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fanficsat12am · 1 year ago

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when the brothers realize how much MC loves them I Lucifer & Mammon

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜

Lucifer

He was Lucifer Morningstar, the picture of perfection. He had everything planned, everything taken care of, everything written down. He had to protect that perfect image and anything that dared to disturb it was met with a toothy snarl, a sharp glare, glowing ruby-red eyes, and a towering figure with the power to kill anything in just a second. No one had managed to see what was behind the curtains, nor had anyone really tried. No one except you.

He had been slaving away at his office for what felt like the nth night in a row. His usually kept demeanor was disheveled, posture stiff, shoulders tense, movements quick and emotionless, like that of a machine. You knew he couldn’t do anything about it. As Diavolo’s right-hand man, he had a plethora of work that needed to be finished—with even more to come the next day. That didn’t mean you could idly watch by the side though, unable to bear the thought of your significant other rotting away with each passing night.

You slowly moved closer toward the hunched man, each step more determined than the last. Even as you stood in front of him, he still had yet to acknowledge you. The distance made by the desk between you felt vast like it was a great wall barricading him from you. The only coherent thought in Lucifer's mind was the documents that were sprawled along the mahogany surface. “Lucifer…” you call out, the name falling on deaf ears. The scribbling of the pen continues to taunt you as you wait for a response. “My Love, you’ve been at it for days. Please rest” you plead, the previous attempts of getting him to rest slowly starting to weigh on you. You move closer, positioning yourself beside him. You take a gentle yet firm hold of the hand furiously writing on the parchment, halting it in its tracks. He briskly flicks your hand off with a grunt—as if your touch alone had burned him. The simple action took you aback. It was as if the demon infront of you was foreign. You knew to yourself this wasn’t your Lucifer.

You were unsure of what to do. Your once-firm determination had by this point waned, leaving you with little more than a desperate desire to pry him out of that chair. Whenever you were in need of comfort, his warm embrace would be there to hold your pieces together. Now, you were met with the crisp cold feeling of nothingness. It had been so long since you felt his touch, you didn’t realize how starved you were of it. Slowly, you envelop him in your hold. You needed him, you needed to know he was still there. He was just about to shove you away again when he heard your faint, trembling voice. “Please…stop hurting yourself. Stop hurting me,” you whispered, letting him go and instead cupping his face to make him finally look at you. “Just for tonight…don’t be Lucifer Morningstar” you beg, a stray tear finding its way out and falling down your cheek. You silently cursed yourself, knowing that crying will just add to the stressful plate he already had. But you couldn't help it. The dam you had tried to conceal had finally broken, pouring out every unshed tear you kept hidden from him.

As he sat and watched each crystalline tear roll down your face, he could feel his heart sink further and further down his stomach. Gazing into your eyes, he sees all the worry you’d been garnering all this time. All the hurt you had wasn’t for you, but for him—because of him. How could he have done this to you? You didn’t deserve this. Everything was wrong. This wasn’t perfect. Nothing was, not until your beautiful smile had returned. He wasn't aware of when he had begun to cry, only noticing once were wiping it away with the pads of your thumb. What did he ever do to deserve you? Even in your time of despair, all you cared about was him. He gently brought his hand to your face, wiping away as much of your tears as he could while kissing away those that followed. “For you, I’d do it every waking hour” he replied.

As he carried you to the comfort of his bed, his mind had yet to cease its punishment on him. He felt disgusted with himself. The mere thought of you having to see him in such a state, to have you think you needed to beg for him to come back to you when in reality it was he who should be pleading for you to stay. He couldn’t stand it. Pressing a tender kiss to your temple, he makes a silent promise to be better for you. You didn’t need a perfect boyfriend, because he knew that in your eyes he was already enough.

Mammon

“Psh. How stupid can ya be?”

Push. That’s all he knew to do. But how much could he push until you fall off the edge? How long would you hold on until you’d finally had enough? As he stared at your sleeping figure, he was afraid he’d found the answer.

“I don’t need ya. Not now not ever”

He wanted to take it all back, to slap some sense to his past self, to get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness. But the damage had been done. The seed of doubt had already been planted. To make matters worse, he had yet to apologize, letting the seed take root and grow into something sick and twisted. All he could think to do was to silently lay down next to you for what might be the last time. It was greedy of him, but he had to at least savor each remaining moment he could cling to. As he places himself inches away from you, the repercussions of his actions were now on full display. He quickly noticed the dried tear marks across your cheeks, your usually bright eyes now puffy and swollen, and how a deep breath would interrupt the steady rise and fall of your chest. He could feel as his heart clenched in guilt, the words he’d carelessly thrown at you now seemingly forming a huge lump in his throat. He wanted to pull you close, to hold and shield you from the other dangers of the world. But he knew he couldn't, not when he himself was what he needed to protect you from.

“Know your place, Human”

With a shaking hand, he places his palm on your cheek and attempts to wipe away the tears he was meant to wipe a long time ago. You’re gently woken up by the feeling of his touch, still a bit tired after your crying session. Although your mind was hazy, you could easily see the absolute regret Mammon had as he gingerly wiped away at your face. He refused to meet your eyes, afraid to see the hatred awaiting in those orbs that once held so much love for him. But he couldn’t resist. He needed you to know that the next words he was about to say were his, that it came from the deepest part of his heart. Shifting his gaze to finally look at you, the apology he had prepared quickly died down on his tongue. Even at your state, you still cease to leave him breathless. But he knew he had to say something. Anything. Please, just do something.

“I’m sorry” he whispered. It was pathetic, he knew. There was so much he wanted to say, but…this was the most important one. He watched as you placed your hand over his and softly kissed his palm with the most love he had ever felt, nuzzling closer into his touch. Tears brimmed his eyes, blurring his vision with each second that passed by. The hand that used to be by your cheek was now entangled in your hair, while the other had wrapped around your waist—both drawing you closer to his embrace. That night he held you tighter as if you were sand about to slip through his fingers. He doesn't know what to do to make it up to you, but for now, he focuses on holding you, relishing the warmth that his stupid mouth had almost cost him. He would let anyone from the three realms take everything he had if it meant he could keep you. Anything but you. You were his MC, and your place was here in his arms.

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shiftertech · 10 months ago

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"Can I tell you something?"

The girl sat by the campfire, lazily stoking it with a stick doesn't remove her gaze from the licks of flame. "Depends. Are you going to give me an explanation as to why we're here?"

"I—," you sputter out the short noise before clamping your mouth shut. It'd be better if you showed her. She pokes at the crumbling logs again, a dance of embers bursting upwards in drifting spirals.

"Because I know we're not here just to camp," she continues, eyes tracking upwards with the glowing specks. "You've been anxious as fuck since we arrived. I have eyes. Your fingernails look like shit with all that biting." Ah, fuck.

"W-well, it's something you should really know about me." You shuffle between the fire and the foldable chair placed beside it, eyes stinging as you catch a face full of smoke on your way to her side. You take a knee on ashy soil, still slightly damp from showers the prior day, and steady yourself with your hands.

She doesn't look at you. You dig your fingers into the dirt.

"You know what I've been thinking this is," she finally asks after a prolonged moment.

"What, hun?"

"The moment since we've got here, I've been thinking, 'This is it. This is the part where he breaks up with me.' I been thinking this is your intricate, fucked up way of separating." She waves her free hand in the air, continuing, "And how would I know! I can barely tell what's on your mind most of the time!"

That's not what this is. Not at all. Your heart breaks to even comprehend she's felt like this.

Perhaps it shows on your face because she gives you a peculiar side-glance, eyes glinting with curiosity.

"No!" You reach for her but she flinches, your hand halting in place mid-reach, going slightly limp. Softer, "no, that's not it. Why would I—"

"You're a mirror."

The first time she says it, it sounds like a profound realization.

Silence. The crackle of fire, the chirping of night critters, the cacophony hiss of wind swept tree branches, gone. She sits there, an infinite stare piercing the flames once more.

"What?"

"A mirror. You take on the mannerisms, the patterns, the emotions that others show you, and give it right back." She hangs her head low to the dirt as if she's espousing some fatal truth. "It makes you so easy to love but impossible to know.

"Because, love? Your mirror is cracked. I've known you long enough to tell it isn't you.

"And that was okay for a while. It was so simple to be with you... until the past month.

"You've grown distant and quiet, and I'm worried that you've been a mirror for so long that you haven't noticed your cracks were growing to the point of you being unable to reflect me anymore.

"I'd like to know what lies behind the broken shards but...

Is there anything even there?

Her head turns to you, golden fire-lit eyes landing on your face. You can see your perfectly blank face reflected in them. Hairline cracks decorate your face in an intricate web, crumbling shards falling from your glassy cheeks.

Your hands find their way to your face, fingers landing on the smooth surface with a hard clink. More cracks form at the points of contact, branching to other splits in the material of your smooth skin and knocking more shards loose.

The dirt beneath you is littered with ash and glass. Pieces of you, sharp and fractured, sunken into the earth. Your glass fingers try to pluck the shards out of the ground but only manage to break them further, chipping away at intricately painted details of soft skin and nails bitten away to the false skin. Soon your struggling to bend your fingers at all, stiff as can be in a straightforward posture.

Soft, fleshy fingers gently grab your flaking chin. She turns your emotionless face towards her. Her eyes glow brighter, no longer permitting reflection.

"I'm sorry." A hand is placed upon your chest, just over your heart. "It's too late to go back, you already saw it..."

Another hand combs through the thin glass hairs on your head, shearing them off as she goes. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she says, "but it'll be okay. I've been here before too you know."

She pushes with an inhuman force upon your chest...

And your glass shell shatters.

Emptiness prevails in the sensation of your chest, a million shards falling inwards and disappearing into your void. The gaping hole spreads further as your internal gravity wins over the failing integrity of your body.

Before you, a known but undefined entity kneels onto the dirt with you, in a body of its own design. Her perfectly crafted hands place themselves upon your cracked thighs, thumbs gently tracing circles over the smooth surface. She leans forward, lips next to your broken left ear, its top half snapped off. She speaks in a voice she spent much time perfecting.

"It's almost done, sweetest. Just know I'll love you, whatever you decide to be without your shell. I'll be by your side."

With a quick movement, she shifts all of her immense, impossible weight into the hands on your thighs. They shatter instantly, and take the lower legs and feet folded beneath with them, shards falling upwards into your core. All that remains of you after a few moments is a wispy void. And then...

"Oh. Gorgeous."

An ember from the campfire strays from its upwards path, drifting towards the void of you.

And then another.

And another.

Unlike your shattered shell, these embers do not flicker out of existence in your gravity well. Instead, they begin to wrap around your core in a tight orbit.

The campfire dims as the void of you draws out bursting flecks of glowing carbon, drawing more and more into your orbit, until you are just a sphere of spinning ember light. A sparking fire ball of potential.

Potential. You can feel liquid potential circling around you, currently formless. Potential you can control, shape and mold into whatever the void of you desires. You're not sure what to make of it.

"Whatever you want. This is for no one else but you. Don't hold back," your loving entity replies to your wordless question.

You begin with a small movement. An arc of flame goes wide of the sphere before falling back into the fold. Okay. Maybe you can put more strength behind it.

A minor explosion is the result of that effort, as you learn the extent of your shaping strength. The entity leaps back, a few nasty embers leaving burns across her skin, which are quickly overtaken by a golden glow from inside that fades back into unblemished epidermis. You feel larger, embers leaping off of molten liquid hissing and bubbling in the brisk air.

"Okay, now shape it!"

For lack of a better template at the moment, you try to form the liquid with invisible hands into curves just like the contours of her body. The torso comes into definition, followed by limbs shooting out, and finally a head filling out a rather obvious replication of her, made of the caustic liquid. Your molten feet touch the ground, boiling the water trapped in the soil beneath into steam.

A bubbly laugh comes from her. You look up from your glowing body to see her head thrown back. She's actually crying of laughter, what the hell? She said anything!

You place liquid hands upon your liquid hips, annoyed at the obvious judgement of your choice of form, which only serves to make her double over again.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, it's just..." she pauses to wipe a tear from her eye. "I should have expected you'd try to be me first! Shattered one mirror for another, eh?"

Another bout of laughter. You'd consider her an ass if it wasn't so cute. Well, no, she is an ass, but a cute one at least. This sudden flow of emotion-laden thought comes with new curiosities.

You look down at your body once again, and decide you like its curves, but start to make simple alterations. Simple begins with changing your height, material expanding with a deep thrum and burst of heat until you're towering over her.

"Wow, that's like, a lot more than professional athlete height!" The comment wavers in tone, as if the size is affecting her. You lean in close and her face turns red—and not just from the orange glow of your molten body.

Having had your fun with height, you shrink back with a sharp hiss of escaping pressure and heat, much to her apparent disappointment. There are other things you try, like proportions and weight, but some things stay the same, like having breasts, which feel so right it feels wrong. You make this form your own.

It's pretty clear that you've settled on a feminine body, which makes so much sense to a certain part of you. You are a bit tired of being a humanoid light bulb though.

"We can work on that now. Imagine what you want to be made of, and reach for it."

The lava that makes you starts to cool off, flickering light ebbing away to dark basalt. You feel it crack and reform as you bend your arm at the elbow. A new idea strikes you, and before long, the rock crumbles away all across your body as if it were just a thin crust, revealing a shiny metal skin beneath. Neat.

After definitely not an abundance of playing around with this (you really liked being a sentient humanoid water thing, that was cool), you returned to what you knew best, with human skin and hair.

You test your voice for the first time, a feminine lilt, saying, "what happens now? Once I find what I want to be, will I be stuck like that forever?" The lightness of your tone gives you a fluttery feeling in your chest.

Her hands find her way onto your hips as she pulls you close. "That's the best part. What we want to be isn't a static thing," she says. "As we grow, as we learn, as we experience, what we want to he changes. You and I are gifted with the knowledge that we are malleable things. Entities of change. One's who can embrace it with no restriction."

You look at your hand, you shape it. Scales chase up the wrist and previously bitten down nails slide out into avian talons. You flip it over, and in the midst of the motion consider another form. Tufts of fur burst from the gaps between scales, and leathery pads swell upon your fingers and palms. The talons shrink back into canine claws, that you could easily imagine digging into the dirt to pull you into a sprint.

You let it return to a human shape as you look back at her, emotions overwhelming you.

"I had something I wanted to tell you," you say, tears pooling in your eyes. She tips her head forward, your foreheads touching. "I think... I'm a girl..."

"I know, baby. I know you are."

She wraps you in her arms as you let it all out, sobbing into her neck. She doesn't let you go even as the campfire simmers and cracks, no more flames licking up into the sky. She doesn't let you go as the night critters resume their chirping. She doesn't let you go as the wind swept trees bristle under the growing light of dawn.

Not even as you both let sleep take you, no more mirrors and broken shells keeping you apart.

#writing #transgender #transformation #lesbian #empty spaces

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golden-cherry · 2 years ago

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deal - cl16 (4/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Charles and you pay Joris a visit that raises more questions than it answers.

Warnings: Charles is distant, angst (idk if it counts), fluff, Google translated French

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

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A/N: I'm running on two liters of coffee and three Red Bulls. thank you for being so patient. hope you enjoy it! love y'all.

Charles doesn't make a sound, but the way his slender fingers clench around the worn steering wheel, he doesn't have to. His knuckles stand out white - surely deep imprints of his rings have already bored into the gray leather - and he clenches his jaw.

Whoever called him has chased away the empathetic, gentle Charles you've come to know in little more than twelve hours and who, in your limited opinion, doesn't deserve to feel that way. The person sitting on the driver's side of your car stares at the road in front of you with an icy stare. His movements to steer the car are skillful but stiff like a doll's, and his breathing is so shallow it looks like he's stopped altogether. He even turned off the radio after a few meters, so there's nothing between you but this strange silence.

Most of all you would like to comfort him, support him, do something to cheer him up, but Charles won't let you see his cards. You don't know if he wants to, if he's even the type to be comforted or distracted. All you know is that the phone call has driven away his good, playful mood. His expression is blank, emotionless, and you don't know what to do - if you should do anything - which is why you just sit quietly next to him.

You're immensely grateful that Charles has shown you his secret place and tried to cheer you up. And you would only too gladly return this kind gesture. But you don't. You don't want to drive his mood even lower with a pitiful attempt. You sit silently next to him, making yourself very small so that he doesn't notice you.

Charles steers the car after some time through a narrow alley into a backyard, where it comes to a stop in a marked parking space. He turns off the engine, takes the key out of the ignition, and gets out without a word.

Briefly, you're unsure whether to follow him - after all, you can't assess what he needs and wants right now - but when he stops at the hood and takes a quick glance back, you exhale in relief. Apparently he hasn't forgotten that you're still there, too.

You follow him, and when you stop at a large wooden door, he places his ringed index finger on a bell with the name "Trouche" written on it. For a brief moment you wait and nervously you tap from one foot to the other, not knowing what is waiting for you behind the door, while Charles stands beside you like a statue. Out of the corner of your eye, you eye him inconspicuously.

His jaw is clenched and at his neck his vein is pulsating slightly and he hasn't stopped breathing, which of course pleases you very much. But his gaze is fixed on the door, he doesn't even seem to blink.

The call seems to have thrown him very much off course.

A muffled whirring sounds and your roommate pushes the door open.

The hallway of the house where Joris lives isn't particularly wide, so Charles climbs the stairs ahead of you. His hands hang down by his sides, but with his thumbs he tries to turn the rings on his fingers. A nervous habit? Or a coping mechanism for stress? Whatever it is, it's the only thing that makes him human right now.

You look down at your feet to keep from tripping, and nearly slam into him when he stops abruptly in front of an apartment door. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. Then he knocks on the door.

"Joris, good to see you," Charles says cheerfully as his buddy opens the door. His voice is bright and friendly, the complete opposite of what you just witnessed on the drive. "Can we come in?"

While Joris, who doesn't seem at all surprised that you two are suddenly standing in front of his door, takes a step aside so you can enter, you can't take your eyes off Charles. What the hell is he doing? Why is he suddenly acting so differently? How does he manage to change his mood like that from one second to the next? Faking his good mood? Does he perhaps have multiple personalities? Or has he put the call behind him and doesn't want to think about it anymore?

"Go ahead and sit down," Joris says, disappearing into the kitchen. "I'll just get something to drink."

His apartment is definitely bigger than yours. The living room, which is done in simple shades of white, beige, and black, is bigger than your whole apartment by itself. As you look out the window behind the couch, you can even see the Côte d'Azur. How much is he paying for this view?

Charles sits down on the comfortable looking couch and smiles at you. "Sit down before Joris commandeers the only other comfortable place in this apartment and you have to sit on one of those uncomfortable chairs there." With a nod, he points to the chairs around the large dining table in the corner.

You look at him uncertainly. Apparently he's talking to you again, and even in front of you he seems to be keeping up the facade that he's fine. Maybe he really does have multiple personalities.

When you don't move, he tilts his head and smiles. But something is wrong with it. It doesn't reach his eyes. "I won't bite."

"I'm not so sure about that," you counter him honestly, but - with enough distance - you sit down next to him on the couch anyway, which is actually as comfortable as it looks. You feel his gaze on you, but don't dare to return it. You let your fingers slide over the soft fabric. "Is everything all right?"

Charles' smile is carved on his face, as it doesn't move a millimeter. The corners of his mouth remain at the exact same height as you look at him as he answers you. "Everything's fine." He glances briefly at your hands folded in your lap, then looks to Joris, who joins you.

He places three Coke cans on the glass table in front of you, which is certainly more expensive than all the furniture in your home. And he even puts them on the glass without a coaster. For that alone, you would have gotten in trouble at your parents' house. "To what do I owe the honor of your impromptu visit?"

Your roommate leans back and rests an arm on the back of the couch. "What do you think?" He glances at you, your gaze fixed firmly on the cans, and then back at his best friend. "Guess."

Joris grabs a can of Coke - a ring of condensation has collected on the glass - and takes a big gulp, surely to stall for time before he starts explaining. Charles doesn't take his eyes off him. "As I explained to you, I rented the place out so it wouldn't sit empty for months, and there are expenses that need to be paid. Garbage pickup and maintenance of the house, for example." He puts the can back on the table.

Charles raises an eyebrow. "You know that kind of thing's not a problem for me, Joris."

Nervously, his buddy runs a hand through his hair, "I know."

Charles breathes in and out deeply. His cheerful facade seems to be crumbling. Apparently, he's not satisfied with his buddy's answer. He turns his head and looks at you, "How much did you pay per month?"

Actually, you don't want to be a part of this conversation because, until now, it was irrelevant to you why he rented the apartment. All that mattered to you was that he rented it. And he rented it to you. And now you've slipped into this stupid situation, not wanting to answer this question at all, not wanting to get Joris into even more shit, but Charles' piercing gaze leaves you no room to breathe.

You swallow. "Two thousand euros."

Your quick glance at Joris blows your fib, because Charles doesn't believe a word you say. But he says nothing, merely looks at you before propping his elbows on his knees and looking back to Joris. "You're going to pay her back. Every cent of it. And the lease will be terminated."

Is Charles trying to kick you out? After you were still discussing living together this morning? What was that about the next bridge in Monte Carlo?

Your (still) roommate looks at you. "The apartment is bought and paid off. You don't have to pay rent, just the running costs like electricity and water. But we share those, of course. After all, we live there together now." You hope no one notices as you breathe a sigh of relief. His gaze wanders back to Joris. "And you and I are going to have another talk about trust soon. It's not okay for you to do something like this without my consent."

Joris nods slightly. "I'm really sorry, man. I really didn't have any bad intentions." He looks to you. "And I'm sorry I put you in such a stupid situation. It must have been scary to have Charles standing in the apartment all of a sudden."

You smile gently at him. "That's okay. I got a meal as compensation, so it's all good."

"After you almost hit me over the head with a newspaper," Charles replies.

As you look at him, you notice something has changed in his face. His smile reaches his eyes and his teeth are no longer clenched. All of a sudden he looks much more relaxed, which is why you dare to counter again. "You were going to call the police."

His grin widens even more and he leans back again, this time clasping his hands behind his head. "You were standing in my apartment, after all."

Since you don't have a reasonable counterargument to that - after all, it is indeed his apartment - you grab one of the countless couch cushions and throw it in his face. Unfortunately, he actually catches it and laughs as he throws it back at you. "I think you would have had a better chance with the newspaper."

Before you can throw more pillows at him, Joris speaks up. "Before you tear my whole place apart - what do you think about lunch?"

Charles glances at his watch. "Since when do you eat lunch before three in the afternoon?"

Joris gets up from his seat and shrugs. "Think of it as an apology for the whole situation."

"The way you cook, I'd call it more of an attempted murder, not an apology." Charles leans in your direction. "He can't cook at all. He tried to cook pasta once, but didn't know you had to turn on the stove to do it," he whispers with a grin, knowing Joris can hear him anyway.

"Haha." Joris puts his hands on his hips. "Well, I didn't say I was cooking. Actually, I was hoping you would be cooking."

Charles gets up from the couch and walks over to his buddy. "Then all the more reason it's not an apology." The two men stand facing each other, Charles a few inches taller. "But you told me the other day that you got yourself a new camera. Maybe I can borrow it sometime."

The two look at each other before grinning and falling into each other's arms. All you hear is "Je suis désolé" i’m sorry and " Oublie ça, mon pote“ forget it, buddy before they pat each other on the back - like real bros - and then pull away from each other. There's something comforting about the way the two can't seem to stay mad at each other for long. Something comforting.

"All right," Charles says, putting his arm around Jori's shoulder. "Let's see what your fridge has in store, then." The two take two steps forward toward the kitchen before stopping. Your roommate turns to you. "You coming?"

You nod at him. "I'll be right behind you." The two of them leave the room and you turn around on the couch so you can look out the window again.

Monaco is beautiful and you are immensely grateful that you can continue to stay here. That Charles is letting you stay with him, and even rent-free, which is of course very convenient for you. If Joris should really pay you back the money, which in itself is only meant nicely by Charles, then you would be able to stay in Monaco even longer without a fixed income. And then you would also have more time to find a good job.

A huge stone falls from your heart. You don't have to look for a bridge to live under. You won't be kicked out of your apartment within the next few weeks because you can't pay the rent anymore. You don't have to take a job as a dog sitter so you don't starve.

You take a deep breath and only then realize that a few tears are running down your cheek. Relief fills you and for the longest time you see a silver lining on the horizon.

You couldn't be more grateful to Charles for that.

You wipe away the tears with the sleeve of your sweater before getting up from the couch and following the two of them. There are many pictures on the walls in the hallway, some of which you recognize from Charles' phone. He is in many of them, and so are some of his friends. Pictures of birthdays, vacations, and parties that seem to have been celebrated as if there were no tomorrow. Slowly, you walk down the hall, looking closely at each picture as the men talk in the kitchen.

"Elle a déjà appelé deux fois aujourd'hui“, Charles says coolly. she called twice today

Abruptly, you stop. She? Twice? Then the person who called Charles on the trip today is the same one from this morning who woke him up.

" Que voulait-elle?“ what did she want?

" Que je rentre chez moi.“ come home. You hear Charles exhale. " Je lui ai pourtant dit que je ne viendrais pas. Mais apparemment, elle ne comprend pas." wasn’t coming – she doesn't understand

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire?" what do you mean?

"Je lui ai dit que j'allais vivre ailleurs pour le moment, mais qu'elle pouvait continuer à vivre dans l'appartement si elle le souhaitait jusqu'à ce qu'elle trouve quelque chose de nouveau. Mais elle n'arrête pas de m'appeler et de m'envoyer des SMS pour me demander où je suis et quand je vais rentrer.“ live somewhere else – continue – apartment – keeps calling – coming home

" Avez-vous déjà pensé à la mettre à la porte?" Jori's tone sounds serious. "Je sais que cela vous mettrait mal à l'aise, mais peut-être que vous vous sentirez mieux.“ uncomfortable – feel better

"Je ne sais pas“, Charles replies. i don’t know. "Je pense que je dois m'asseoir avec elle à nouveau et mettre les choses au clair."

"Tu lui as parlé de Y/N?“ When Joris mentions your name, you stop breathing.

"Non. Le fait que je vive avec elle ne la regarde pas non plus." no – none of her business.

As a phone rings, you awaken from your rigidity. You hear some footsteps, and suddenly Joris is standing in front of you with his cell phone in his hand. As he walks past you, you pretend to look at a picture.

Who were they talking about just now? An ex-girlfriend of Charles'? Is that why he can't go to his other apartment? Because he doesn't want to live with her?

"There you are." Charles pokes his head out of the doorway and smiles at you. You feel caught, though there's nothing in his expression to suggest he knows you heard them. You smile back. "Come on. I need help, and you're certainly a bigger help than Mister Can't-even-cook-noodles."

Wordlessly, you follow him into the kitchen, where he has already spread out some things on the kitchen counter. You see potatoes, peppers, and there's already some salmon on a cutting board. "How can I help?"

Charles positions himself at the kitchen island and puts a pan on the stove. "Can you peel the potatoes, please? Peeler's already there, you put the potatoes -" he pulls out a saucepan from a drawer and places it on the opposite side of the island - "in here."

You raise your hand to your forehead and salute him. "All right, chef." After washing your hands briefly, you grab the potatoes and peeler and face Charles. You pick up a potato and start peeling.

"What kind of music are you listening to right now?" asks Charles as he works on the salmon filet in front of him.

You shrug your shoulders. "Pretty much anything. My latest playlist tends to be a little quieter, a lot of classical music. But it helps me when I need to concentrate."

"Do you want to turn it on? I'm a big fan of classical music," he counters, setting the salmon aside before moving on to the peppers.

You wipe your hands briefly on a kitchen towel and pull your phone out of your pocket. Finding the playlist doesn't take long-after all, it's the one you heard last-and as soon as the tone sounds, you set your phone down on the countertop between you.

"I don't know anyone who likes classical music either." You put the first potato in the crockpot. "Everyone always tells me it's too boring. Like that, with no lyrics."

Charles shakes his head. "Absolute bullshit, if you ask me. I don't know any song that has lyrics that can be as deep and emotional as a harmonizing orchestra."

You smile. "I agree." When there's silence between you for a moment, you take a chance. "Thank you, by the way. For sticking up for me just now."

Now it's Charles' turn to shrug. "You don't have to thank me for that. I think you were treated unfairly, and I wanted to set the record straight."

"You didn't have to do that, though." The next potato loses its skin. "After all, Joris is your best friend."

"And you're my friend. Just because Joris and I are close doesn't mean he gets to treat you that way. And even if you weren't my friend, I would have stood up for you."

He says the word friend so lightly, so easily, as if he's been saying it for years and not as if you've only known each other for a short time. And most of all, he seems to mean it, too. It amazes you how quickly you were able to form an emotional bond with him within hours. As if he had bewitched you.

But you have no problem with that. Charles is kind and gracious and a good man. You're glad you can count him as a friend.

The music suddenly stops as your cell phone begins to vibrate. You take one look at the screen and freeze.

It's him again.

Spellbound, you stare at the phone, hoping you're imagining it, but it rings and the vibration against the countertop is so loud it's definitely real. A cold shiver chases down your spine. Can't he finally leave you alone?

You reach for the phone to push the call away.

But Charles is faster.

And before you know it, he presses the green button to take the call.

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc fanfiction #carlos sainz jr #Charles Leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #Charles Leclerc deal

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sylusjinwoon · 8 months ago

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{ 132 }

crush, crush, crush.

megumi fushiguro x fem.reader

no curses | college au.

{ and i'm like, yeah | everything you heard is true | everybody knows i'm hung up on you. }

much like half of the female population of students that attended this university, you had a crush on megumi fushiguro.

something about him was just so appealing to you (and many others). from his deep, emerald green eyes to the way his spiked hair fell across his pale face.

his full lips were often seen set in a permanent scowl, indicating his absolute disdain for something-

and his deep voice was painted in nonchalant tones, as if nothing in the world could ever bother him-

but it was enough to fuel your desire to get closer to him.

being somewhat of a smart cookie, you ended up sharing quite a few classes with the enigmatic megumi. from ethics to advanced calculus, you were honestly just happy enough to be in his presence.

because you knew that the chances of megumi returning your feelings were slim to none, that didn't stop you from doing something a little silly (and quite stupid, really) to get closer to him.

in your advanced calculus class, you purposely failed a sequence of pop quizzes, each and every one of them serving to be like a test drive before the real deal: the first exam worth nearly 20% of your final grade.

your professor, feeling exasperated on your depressingly low averages, finally decided to enlist the help of the student who consistently scored a 100% on every assignment and pop quiz-

megumi.

she calls you to the front of her desk while stopping megumi from leaving the classroom. megumi's eyes were furrowed in confusion, and you did your best to put on a sad face, jutting your lips out in a disappointed pout and all.

"fushiguro, you're one of the best students in my class- actually, you're the only one who has ever had consistently high scores on my homework and quizzes."

your professor gestures over to you, all while saying your name with a disappointed sigh. "she needs your help. her scores have been embarrassingly low, and i'm afraid if this continues, she will not have a chance to pass this class and may need a retake. so please, when it's still early in the semester, can you help her?"

you take this chance to meet with megumi's gaze, seeing them flash with an unknown emotion for a brief moment before returning back to his blank, emotionless gaze. he places a hand within the pocket of his jeans, looking away from you to see each one of your written quizzes spread out against your professor's desk.

you had to fight back the heat against your cheek when his bored, emerald gaze looked at the 0's written in a deep red ink, the anger and disappointment your teacher felt for you seeming to create a harsh dent, with each bold x seen scattered across the problems on the papers, nearly ripping through each sheet.

"so, as you can see, i don't wish for this student to be a hopeless case. if things go well, the highest grade she can make is a 70. but... i'll allow it if you can help her."

without another word needing to be spoken, megumi gives the professor a stiff nod before collecting your quizzes together in a single, neat stack. he meets with your gaze and says a simple "follow me." before walking out of the classroom.

and despite how you could feel your heart pounding from within your chest, you kept your cool and followed megumi from close behind. you continue to walk in silence for several seconds when he turns around to face you, seeing you standing behind him while letting out a sound of annoyance.

"don't walk behind me like i'm better than you." he gently grabs a hold of your wrist so that you were now walking right next to him. "i hate that shit. we're in the same year, so act like it."

the way your heart suddenly jumped into your throat was enough to make you feel dizzy, and the fact that megumi didn't show any hints of letting you go made it all the more overwhelming for you.

with his hand loosely gripping at your wrist, he leads you to your university's library, the silence was once deafening as you thought that your ears were close to ringing-

but the moment several students laid eyes on megumi holding your hand, you felt all eyes turn on you. their studying all but forgotten as whispers and giggles were heard throughout. seemingly unbothered by the sudden change, he keeps holding on to your wrist before going towards one of the hallways that held several study rooms. the first empty room he finds, he enters it while shutting the door.

in the middle of the room was a large, square table with four seats surrounding it. megumi takes an extra seat and settles it on the same side as him, silently gesturing at you to sit to his left. you nod and heed his words, feeling somewhat shy as you took out a fresh notebook along with some pencils and pens from your backpack.

megumi settles himself beside you and takes out his notebook. as you trail your eyes over those meticulous pages, you saw just how much care and detail he put within them, the black ink seeming to bleed through each page as evidence of his dedication.

he takes one of your quizzes and points to each concept you missed within his notes, and you found yourself following along quite well. you end up completely correcting your errors within 20 minutes, and was simply basking in megumi's presence when a deep chuckle was heard.

"heh, i knew you were suspicious..." megumi had placed his lips against the shell of your ear, tone dripping with an uncharacteristic amusement. the feeling of his hot breath against your ear was enough to make you shiver in response, your wary gaze meeting with his.

"ah... i... don't know what you mean?"

he gives you a scoff, telling you that he didn't believe your bluff for a single minute while shutting his notebook. "you know, professor irie has told me to tutor some of her other students in different classes several times. and i can't tell you how we often spent two hours working on a single problem."

"yet you... you corrected each and every one of your mistakes, redoing all 10 problems and giving me the correct answer within a mere 20 minutes."

you were frozen, eyes going wide, as if you were a deer caught in headlights. a smirk was seen gracing megumi's handsome features when you could feel his large hand against your back, pushing you forward so that you could see your past quizzes. he spreads out each and every one of the pages that averaged a 0, taking his signature black pen as he filled them all in with 100's.

"it takes a different type of genius to purposely choose wrong answers, so tell me... why?"

you begin to blush profusely, unable to meet his gaze as you felt your heart pounding faster with anxiety, nearly coming out of your ribcage. you lost all nerve, unable to even look at him when you shakily manage to tell him.

"i-i think you know why."

"i do, but i'd much rather hear it from you."

you could feel his gentle hands rubbing against your cheek, making you sigh as you relented.

"i-i did it so that i could be closer to you...because i know that you wouldn't notice me otherwise."

"and who says i didn't notice you?"

you gasp upon feeling megumi take a hold of your chin, forcing you to face him as his eyes were shining with a look akin to... adoration for you. he allows the pad of his thumb to trace at your bottom lip before admitting to you, "i've seen the truth of your studious nature and your hard work. and those glances you've been sneaking at me when you thought i wasn't looking... so how could i possibly ignore your presence so easily?"

you watch when he slowly narrows his gaze, suddenly inching himself closer to you as you could taste his breath against your lips, giving you little choice but to cave in to your feelings for him as you met with him halfway.

and as his lips perfectly slot themselves against yours in a perfect kiss, you found yourself sighing, thinking to yourself that failing a few quizzes was completely worth it in the end.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro imagine #.stories

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wysteria-bloom · 1 year ago

Text

honkai star rail x f!reader - random prompts

characters : caelus, welt, sampo, gepard, dan heng

warnings : none! :) sfw

a/n : im obsessed with this game and its characters!! Huohuo and sampo have my whole heart ❤️❤️ requests are 100% open for hsr, so feel free to suggest whatever ideas you have and i will write them! Be mindful that I am currently moving onto the second story chapter so i wont know stuff about jing yuan or blade!! I'm definitely doing one with the girl characters after this one-

Prompt : ̗̀➛Caelus touching [name]'s face and telling her that her face is really soft.

When talking with Caelus, you typically notice the far-off look he gets in his eyes. It’s as though his mind is in a distant land and yet his physical form is present here, with you.

It was an endearing trait of his, but also irritating. Especially when you’re trying to explain something extremely important to him.

He was definitely an odd one…

I mean, the first time you had met him he was head-first in a trash can searching for… something.

But… his strange quirks are what drew you to him. The times where he seemed emotionless were actually the times where he was the most gentle… and the times where he is the most aggressive he comes across as seemingly unhinged.

You were definitely down bad for this strange raccoon guy whom had a literal nuke within him.

Yeah, if your parents were still around they definitely wouldn’t be proud of your choices.

Sighing at the distant look in his eyes, you clicked your fingers in front of his face, frowning when he didn’t even blink,” Oi- Caelus!” You called out, frown deepening further when he didn’t respond,” Yahoo~? Astral Express to Caelus??”

He didn’t budge.

Biting your lip in frustration you went to pinch his cheeks but you were found frozen in shock when Caelus had, in fact, beaten you to it. His fingers were rough from how much he’s been swinging that destructive bat around but they had a comforting warmth surrounding them, and when mixed with the blush on your cheeks you felt as though your face could be considered a heat hazard at this point.

He pinched at your cheeks with a concentrated expression, fingers rubbing your skin gently like he was testing the feeling of it, deciding whether he liked it or not.

It was weird.

He was weird.

But fuck, was it adorable to you.

A hum slipped through his lips and he stopped pinching your cheeks, seemingly deciding on something as he just sort of cupped your face gently in his hands instead.

You blinked up at him in embarrassment and utter confusion,”… You gonna explain what’s going on in that strange head of yours orr…?”

A small smile curled onto his lips as his amber eyes swirled with affection and warmth,” Your skin is very soft… I like it.” He complimented bluntly, his thumbs caressing your cheeks to further emphasise his point.

You were silent for a long moment before furrowing your brows,” I-I… thank you??”

“No problem.”

Prompt : ̗̀➛Welt using [Name]'s lap as a pillow.

It had been a long day seemingly, and Welt felt as though he just wanted to collapse into a black hole.

Maybe even one of his own.

March was a lovely girl but her social personality was tiring… and she clashes too much with Dan Heng. It was like babysitting rowdy siblings.

When he had made it into the Astral Express with an exhausted cloud hanging over him, you noticed it almost immediately. You could pick it out from a crowd of people.

When he saw you his tired gaze seem to soften a little, an ounce of tenderness within them,”… We are never having kids.”

You let out a laugh as he made his way over to you, his head hanging ever so slightly,” Guessing the youngsters were a little too much for you?” You cooed out gently, watching his stiff movements with pity,” oh, dear… surely they weren’t that bad?”

“No, no… they were that bad.” He corrected as he sat down next to her huffing slightly,” I feel drained.”

“Hmm… thats the joy of children.” You teased lightly, gazing softly into his honey-coloured eyes as you pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose for him,” Do you want to sleep in my room for a while?”

“…” He watched her, studying your expression and feeling his admiration and love for you slowly consuming him.

Perhaps his exhaustive state was affecting his ability to think logically.

Or maybe that’s just what he wanted to beleive -

But when he found himself moving to lay his head in your lap, he felt as though nothing else in the world mattered to him except for how you make him feel.

You blinked in surprise for a moment at his actions, your hands frozen in the air before you slowly began to card your fingers through his hair. Smiling down at him in amusement you raised a brow,” Is my lap comfortable, love?”

“Well… I’m not uncomfortable.” He answered ambiguously, closing his weary eyes.

I chuckled lightly at that response, continuing to scratch at his scalp gently with my comforting fingers. He hummed in approval,” That’s nice…”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm…”

I sighed a little,” You can’t fall asleep on my lap, Welt.”

“ I disagree… I think this is a perfectly optimal place for me to rest.”

“My legs will die.”

“… a small price to pay.”

Sighing once more, a weak smile curled onto your lips as you took his glasses off for him, setting them to the side,” Alright, alright… Sweet dreams, love.”

There was a small curve to his lips at these words as he began to drift off.

Prompt : ̗̀➛Sampo teaching [Name] how to kiss

“Oh~? Well if it isn’t one of my dearest friends! [name], what brings you to the underground, huh?” Sampo cooed out with his usual easy-going smile on his lips, the sight of you filling his heart with genuine joy.

You blink up at him blankly before humming,” I came to speak with you, actually.” You answered honestly, arms crossing over his chest.

His placed a hand where his heart would be, a fake-shocked look on his face,” Moi?? Why, what a wonderful surprise!” He leaned down a little so he was looking eye-to-eye with you,” My heart swoons at the fact you think about me, doll! How endearing of you~”

You click your tongue, eyes narrowing up at him,” Don’t get too cocky, moron. I came down to make a purchase, not to see you personally.”

He ignored the disappointment he felt as he deflated slightly,” Ehhh? A purchase?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow,” I’m afraid I don;t have many valuable relics in stock at the moment—“

“I want to buy… a-advice.”

“Ehhhhh??” He was even more confused,” I understand I’m a veteran in this business and everything, but you don’t need to buy advice from me, doll. I can just give it to ya.”

You frowned a little at his response and just decided to rip the bandage off, eyebrows furrowing in determination,” Sampo… I want advice on how to kiss somebody.” You stated bluntly and full of purpose.

His eyebrows raised at that answer…’ Who is she prepping to kiss, I wonder?… lucky guy/girl.’ His heart felt like it was breaking.

“Huh? Why do you need to learn a skill like that?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively,” You planning on fooling around with someone, [name]? How scandalous—“

“No.” You interrupted instantly, bitting your lip to keep yourself from spilling information.

“What makes you think I would be good at kissing?”

“…. Do I really have to answe that?…”

“Yes, please.”

“No… you’d have to pay me if you want to hear that kind of praise from me.”

“Hmmm… I dunno…”

Her eyebrows furrowed,”… I will pay you handsomely if you teach me.”

He bursts into laughter as he pet her head affectionately before stopping himself,” There’s no need to pay me, doll, really!” Then he gave her a cocky smirk,” A chance to kiss you is payment enough~!”

You waved your hand dismissively,” Yeah, yeah, whatever you want… now teach me.” You seemed fairly eager.

Sampo is utterly amused at this, he shakes his head and gives an amused sigh. “Oh, this should be fun.” He says, his smirk turns into a smile. “Okay, come here. Let me show you.” He says and he pulls you close.

He puts his hand behind your head and he kisses you gently. Not too soft, and not too aggressive. You lean into the kiss almost immediately, shutting your eyes as you basked in the feeling of his lips against yours.

Sampo pulls away after a few moments and he’s blushing hard, his eyes locked on yours. “See? How’s that for a lesson?” He asks, his breath a little heavy but he smirks like he’s already planning something to do to you next. He was completely mesmerised by you.

“Hmm… I think I need another demonstration, I didn’t quite understand…” You mumbled, eyelashed fluttering up at him innocently.

Surprised and very eager at this response, he raised a brow and smirks. “You’re asking for more?” He asks. He shakes his head. “Okay then, have it your way..” he says and he pulls you in again. He kisses you a bit harder this time, his arm coming around you.

“Mphm!…” you were surprised by how much more aggressive this kiss was but you were able to adapt to it instantly, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck to pull him closer to you as you took complete control over the kiss.

Sampo is caught off guard by this, his eyes widening in surprise but he keeps kissing you, matching your intensity. One of his hands grabs your waist, the other hand running through your hair. He’s enjoying every second of this. “Mmm…” he says, between kisses.

Then, you pulled away, breathing heavily as you stared up at him with a hazy look in your eyes,” How was that?…”

Sampo’s chest is heaving, his heart is racing. He looks down at you, a big grin on his face. “I think that was perfect,” he says and his breath is shaky. “You’re a natural..” he adds with a smile, his eyes glowing,” In fact… I think you could teach me a few things… how about another try?”

“Sound good.”

Prompt : ̗̀➛[Name] catches a cold so Gepard makes sure all her needs are met like an overbearing mother.

A groan left your lips as you stared up at your ceiling hazily, your nose felt entirely blocked and your face was burning hot.

You were definitely sick. From what? You do not know.

But what you are aware of us how much of an overbearing boyfriend Gepard can be when you're sick like this.

You watched in amusement as he ran around your shared bedroom like a headless chicken, fixing the pillows beneath your head for about the hundredth time that day.

"Gepard... The damn pillows are fine, leave 'em alone." You mumbled, your voice was hoarse and scratchy. You just didn't sound well at all.

Gepard pauses in the middle of fluffing up your pillows to peer down at you for a moment," do you have to be so cranky whenever you get sick?" He rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, but in spite of that, he was still fussing over you, pulling the throw blanket over you and turning the humidifier to full blast.

"I'm only cranky when you start acting like my mom. I've already got one, I don't need two." You watched as he opened the window to let fresh air into the room, and you would be lying if you said it didn't feel nice to have cool breeze hitting your face.

Your response makes his cheeks puff out in kick annoyance, letting out a dramatic sigh," so your mother is the only one who is allowed to care for you?" He settles himself into the comfy rocking chair next to your bed as he looked over you with a tender smile on his lips," I bet you're not even aware of how cute you look while you're sick." He observes.

You huffed, letting out your millionth sniffle that day," yeah, yeah... Only you would find me cute with snot running from my nose." You teased, still finding his compliments charming however.

He smirks and makes a clicking noise at you in response," I think your snotty nose and feverish flush brings out your eyes." There's that charm of his again before his smirk settled into a warm smile," how do you feel, anyway?" There was worry lacing his words.

He reminded you of a cute dog... His caring loyal attitude never ceases to make you fall in love with him even more.

Smiling up at him, you raise a brow," I feel like shit," you stated bluntly before your eyes softened," but you're making the experience more bearable."

Gepard chuckles and strokes through your hair, ruffled up in a way that was adorable to his eyes." I'm sorry you feel so awful." He murmurs," are you hungry?" He asks.

"no... I'm good for now," you looked down at the swathes of blankets covering you and opened them up, patting the spot next to you encouragingly," I think taking a nap with my wonderful boyfriend would instantly cure my fever." You grinned up at him innocently.

Gepard blushed, your expression and the invitation being far too inviting for him to resist," Of course..." He murmurs as he slowly, but carefully climbs up on the bed before nestling against you until he's under the covers.

His arms are wrapped around your body and he's pressed all the way up against you, like your very own heated pillow," is that all better for now?"

Instantly leaning into him warm and comforting touch, you nodded with a peaceful smile on your lips as you buried your face into his chest,” for sure…” you hummed out, already feeling yourself getting sleepy. Your arms wrap around his waist comfortably as you sigh in his smell of cinnamon,” Thank you… for taking care of me.”

Gepard holds back a groan of pleasure as you tuck yourself so close against him, your warm body just that much more appealing with your feverish flush. The moment your head rests against his chest, his arms instantly tighten around you, and he's holding himself perfectly still. He's not letting you go.

He kisses behind your ear, the tender gesture causing him to blush. "It's nothing," He hums, nuzzling into your neck. "It's my duty."

“I suppose it is,” you giggled out, leaning into the tender kisses he was giving you,” You’re like a knight in shining armour…” you hummed sleepily.

His fingers are gently stroking through your hair, the caress almost enough to lull you to sleep. The tender kisses he's pressing into your neck help, but not nearly as much as the loving expression on his face, one that's a picture of pure content. He nuzzles into you, as if to mark you as his, but mostly because he doesn't want anything separating the two of you.

"And you are my damsel," He whispers.

“Your princess,”you reiterated, blinking up at him tiredly.

"My princess." He echoes.

Gepard's arms are as warm and as comforting as they are tight around you. Your head is pressed right against his chest, his voice just an ear-hugging whisper in your ear.

"My precious and beloved princess." He purrs gently.

You slowly drifted off to sleep at his words, his warm and soft voice lulling you to sleep like the lullaby of a siren.

or maybe it was the fever that made you so sleepy.

Gepard holds you against him, nuzzling into your shoulder as he's content to watch over your peaceful sleep.

His fingers trace circles into your hair, and the warmth of his body, especially as the blankets he's pulling up to you trap the heat, are just perfect for helping you recover comfortably.

All this fuss over a simple cold. He'll make sure you're treated like royalty.

Prompt : ̗̀➛Dan Heng doesn't like talking on the phone, but [Name] always calls him instead of texting. [Name] admits that it's because she wants to hear Dan Heng's voice.

Den Heng let out a sigh the second his phone started ringing, he almost immediately knew who it was.

Nobody else called him. Not even March!

Why did you have to be different?

Dan Heng answered his phone with a sigh,"Yes, [name]? What is it?"

There was silence before your light voice graced his ears," Hey there~! Long time no talk, buddy." God, he could hear the shit eating grin in your voice.

That stupid grin.

That stupidly charming grin.

"... I hate you, you know that?" Dan Heng murmured and shook his head with frustration as he rubbed his eyes,"What is it you need now? Money? Food? What have you done this time? Are you in trouble again?" He hissed quietly.

"You don't hate me! Den Heng, where are your manners?" You gasped out, acting as though you were offended by his words when you were only growing more amused.

This is usually how your interactions went. You being irritating and him being irritable. Himeko and Welt can't count how many times you both have had your little spouts.

You were like a married couple, honestly. Disgustingly cute.

"And I don't need any of those things! I'm on the straight and narrow," But then you paused then there was a chuckle," For now."

A small smile spread on Dan Heng's face as he heard your laughter. Thank god he wasn't talking to you in person he'd look like an idiot.

"... you're certainly not on the straight and narrow if you're telling me 'for now'..." He leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow, "So what is it you need, then, if it's not money, food, or my help when you've definitely gotten yourself into trouble again?" He asked.

"Welllll..." you dragged your words out, almost as though you were delaying something. But then there was a click of your tongue and-," I just like hearing your voice. Is that so bad?"

You said this so casually. Like it wasn't meant to make Dan Heng have a heart attack.

Dan Heng hesitated and coughed awkwardly as he was taken aback by the sudden shift in what he thought to be a light exchange between him and you. He put his phone close to his ear, his eyes wide with surprise.

“... I-I don’t know what to say.” He said honestly but then he deadpanned,“I was about to tell you that you’re a brat to tease, but I had no idea this was going in this direction.”

"I'm not a brat, am I?" You chuckled out, there was a somberness to your tone," I dunno, you're just easy to talk to."

He heard your clothing shuffle, you must have shrugged.

"But I can tell I'm annoying you, so if you want I can just start messaging from now o-"

Dan Heng was quick to interrupt.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dan Heng said quickly, waving his hand in front of him as if he could see you through the phone.

“You call me whenever you want to talk. It’s just— your timing—” He ran his hand through his hair again,“I thought this was going to be another prank call.”

He heard silence and then your breathy chuckle," You're so cute when you're flustered, Dan Heng." You hummed out teasingly.

Dan Heng’s face turned a bright shade of red and his cheeks warmed in a way only you had ever managed to achieve for him.

He couldn’t find the words to respond and sat there for a moment until he let out a quiet sigh.

“I wish you weren’t so… so… so…” He said, looking around his room as if to search for a synonym. He sighed again and gave up.

“I take it back... you're annoying.”

"Cute."

He heard the creaking of a chair," I'd like to take you out to dinner." You admitted rather bluntly, though there was a gentle tone to your voice.

"If you'd let me," you then added on as an after-thought.

Dan Heng’s face turned a deeper shade of red and his jaw dropped from sheer surprise.

“…W-what?” He asked you, and for someone who wasn’t known for stuttering, he was doing a whole lot of it.

Once or twice you'd joked to him about it, but in all honesty, there were so many times he wanted to ask you out but never did.

“I-… I would love to go to dinner with you." I said. But then realisation struck him and he cleared his throat," But..." He trailed off.

"Buuuut?...." You repeated, sounding a little nervous.

He frowned at himself for making you anxious,“There’s always ‘buts’ with me, it’s never just a clean cut ‘yes’.”

He looked up at the ceiling and let his head drop back down, growing more emotionally exhausted by the second, “In my defense, ‘you’ and ‘me dating’ are things that have never went together in the same sentence in my head.”

"Dan Heng! So mean." You whined out but you began laughing afterwards," You sure about that, though?" There was a teasing lilt to your voice," I see you and I together a lot.

“Well—” Dan Heng paused briefly and cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed cutely. Was he really about to confess this to you? Over the phone at that as well.

“…I have actually imagined a few times…”

He looked up at the ceiling again, his expression turning slightly red and he shut his eyes tightly, cringing at his own words.

“…it’s nothing I can say I ever thought would happen for real. But here we are…”

"Ah, I see..." you sounded almost touched,"... Well, how do you feel?" You asked, genuinely wanting him to express himself.

“How do I feel—?” The question caught Dan Heng off guard. As if he had a lot of thoughts going through his head at once.

“I-I feel—”

He was silent, trying to find the words. He couldn’t find the right words.

“I’ll be honest,” He said quietly, staring at nothing as he held his phone to his ear, “I feel a little scared.”

"Yeah?" She breathed out.

"Yeah," He repeated in the same tone,"...If you and I actually… you know… went on a date..." Dan Heng cleared his throat again, and again, trying to find the words," And you started to know more about me… who I truly am... will you still look at me the way you do now?"

He paused.

"Will you still like me? Or will you end up being disappointed?" He finally spoke in a whisper.

"I... I don't think I could ever be disappointed," you admitted genuinely, a gentle smile to your voice," I know you're closed off for your own reasons... but that makes me more drawn to you."

You sounded so enamoured. Affectionate. He's never heard you speak like this before.

"I want to shoulder your burdens alongside you," you stated simply," No matter what those burdens are. I need to make the weight holding you down lighter... that's my genuine feelings."

“…” In all his years of knowing you, he never thought he’d hear those words in your lifetimes.

The silence grew before Dan Heng spoke again, his voice still a soft whisper but now one of resolve and strength.

“...Okay then.” A small smile twitched onto his lips," Message me the details when you have it figured out."

"Nah, I'll just call you." You confirmed with a clear sound of giddiness within your voice.

Den Heng finally let a soft breathy laugh fall from his lips, his resolve evidently broken,"... I know you will."

#hsr #hsr x reader #sampo x reader #gepard x reader #welt x reader #dan heng x reader #caelus x reader

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octuscle · 6 months ago

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Cursed Ken, part 2: Jack, the lad

Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to pocket this doll… But it looked so great. And it would have been a waste if it had ended up in the bin. Presumably the others had all ended up in the bin. What a waste!

John hadn't been in product design long. But he recognized quality and potential. He thought his boss had made the wrong decision. That cool kid in the cool clothes… John might not have made them pink. But of course it somehow fitted the character… The bus was full, it was rush hour. John wanted to have another good look at the doll. But bloody hell, the doll was no longer in his coat pocket. And actually, his coat pocket wasn't there either. His whole coat was gone. He was wearing a pink Adidas down vest over his suit. His gaze fell on his hands. They weren't real hands. They were the hands of a doll. Flawless. As if cast from a single mold. Basically no difference between skin and fingernails. It looked… Like plastic!

"Hey, Ken, where's Barbie?" a redneck yelled at him. Shit, what was going on here… John fumbled for his cell phone. It was in his vest. And it was in a pink case… He switched the camera to selfie mode. And he looked into a motionless and emotionless face. Perfectly cut. Beautiful. But as if made of plastic. John panicked. Thank God he was soon home. He jumped off the bus at the next stop. He had to get away very quickly. He… I don't know what he had to do… His head felt so nice… But somehow… Empty.

His joints were a bit stiff… But he felt fit. He didn't really feel like going home. He'd only get into trouble with his parents there. They were probably drunk again and would just moan at him again. And if he didn't give them any money because they'd already got through the social welfare again, his father would try to beat him again. He should. Pathetic old man. He wouldn't give him any of his hard-earned money.

John had only seriously thought about going home for a few minutes. He was now on his way to the pub. The boys were probably there too. A couple of beers, maybe a round of darts. Maybe he'd find someone to fuck, too. Jack stroked his chin. His hands were calloused. Calloused from working out at the gym, calloused from working at the road construction company. It was a good job. The other guys were in a good mood. And for a high school dropout, Jack was making a hell of a lot of money.

Shit, the evening had escalated again. It was already dusk when Jack made his way home. He would only be able to lie down for an hour at most before he had to go to work. And the gym would have to wait until after work. Jack pissed in the bushes outside the miserable council block where he lived. But anything was better than having to spend the night on his parents' sofa bed again. But now he would even crash there. The main thing was to get a good night's sleep before he started a new day at the jackhammer.

#male tf #reality change #age reduction #getting dumber #ken tf #ai image #chav tf #kenergy

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simp4wom3n · 2 years ago

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The Quiet One Pt.II

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: After losing Dewey right in front of their eyes, y/n decides to try and run away with the only other person she can trust. That plan however, turns sideways as Tara and y/n experience yet another real-life nightmare. ~ Word Count: 6.319k ~ Warnings: swearing, a lot of description of blood and gore, scream 5 spoilers obvi

A/N: HELLLO pt2 is finally hereeeeee!! I'm sorry it took me so long uni work has been killing me + I think this might be my longest fic yet so. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it and I did end up listening to the poll so hopefully everyone is happy with the ending <3

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5

"I would fucking love to."

"Let's get you out of here then", Sam smiles at you, a stray tear escaping your weak grasp at her soft words. She gives your hand one last gentle squeeze before she stands up to get the nurse, your soft gaze shifting to Tara, whose warm smile still adorned her face. Your eyes scanned her tired features, the mental and physical weight of the situation clearly catching up to her - and yet her smile still managed to set your body alight.

When Sam returns with the nurse, you gingerly sit up as they help you swing your legs off the side of the hospital bed. With Sam holding one arm and the nurse on the other, they balance you as your feet touch the ground, your knees shaking slightly as you stand up. You chuckle lightly when the young nurse hands you a black walking stick. You catch Tara choking down her laugh in your peripherals, causing you to playfully glare at her as you try to get used to walking again.

After some initial help from the nurse, you were allowed to leave. When you walked towards Tara on your own, hobbling like a stiff post due to your aching torso, she offered you another small smile before teasing your rigid form. "Hey there, old man". She chuckled at her comment as you made your way towards the elevator, your mouth dropping in feign offence as you placed your hand over your heart. "Jeez, It's good to see you too."

You were so focused on not falling on your face when you all entered the lobby that you didn't notice the two familiar figures watching you as you approached the door. It wasn't until the Sidney Prescott approached the four of you that you lifted your head away from your walking stick, your eyes widening considerably when you noticed Gale sat just behind her.

The familiar burn of tears returned as your eyes lingered on Gale, and as her broken eyes met yours, you ripped your gaze away from her as your tears escaped down your cheeks. You had no idea whether Gale knew who you were, hell, you didn't really care if she did or not, but you certainly knew who she was. You and Dewey were each other's safe haven; for every piece of information you ranted to him about, he returned in the same volume, meaning that you had heard many of Dewey's rants about his ex-wife.

Knowing how strongly Dewey felt for Gale only made your heart ache more as waves of grief started crashing down on you. The more you tried to grasp that you had lost the one person who had always been there for you, the further you sank into the endless depths of grief, the ice-cold water infiltrating your lungs as you started to drown.

You were the first out the door when Richie suggested that the three of you bring the car around, the rush of fresh air causing your tensed muscles to relax slightly as you slowly inhaled. Richie was leading the way to the car with Tara in front of him, leaving you trailing behind with nothing but the sound of your stick connecting with the cold concrete beneath you and an emotionless and blank stare on your face.

As Richie helps Tara out of her wheelchair and into the backseat of Sam's car, you cautiously lower yourself next to her, a huff escaping your mouth when you're finally seated. You close the door before letting your head fall back in exhaustion, your eyes glued shut as you attempt to take the world's shortest power nap, the tidal wave of emotions finally starting to drain away.

Even as the car started moving, your eyes remained shut as your breathing began to steady, continuing to be blissfully unaware of Tara's worried gaze. It wasn't until Richie honked the horn obnoxiously that you finally opened your eyes. Catching a glimpse of Gale and Sidney, who continue to talk to Sam, makes you immediately regret looking out the window.

Turning away from the window, your eyes land on Tara, who had been sending you a worried gaze. "You okay?" she asks, her voice so soft that you almost miss her. The corner of your lips flutter with the essence of a smile as you send her a slight nod, your heart singing at her gentle words.

"Let's get the fuck out of town, huh?". Internally chuckling at Richie's words, you watch the two women try to stop Sam from leaving, failing horribly as she moves to get in the car. "No. We're leaving. That's the only way I can protect Tara.". You cast a hesitant glance in Tara's direction, her face dropping ever so slightly as her sister's words sink in.

Those exact words had you on the verge of tears once more. You had no idea where Sam had been all this time, having never met her before. Still, Tara obviously meant a lot to her, which made you both feel relieved that Tara was receiving the love she deserved and jealous that you lacked that same unconditional love.

You wanted to be cared for and loved - and not because they felt bad for you.

Obviously noticing the absent look on your face, Tara inhales slowly, trying to compose herself, before she gently reaches for your hand. You flinch slightly at the contact, not used to the affectionate and comforting gesture, but you take her hand nonetheless. Your heart is pounding as her fingers interlock with yours, and she gently squeezes your hand.

As Sam got into the car, she explained what Gale and Sidney wanted, and whilst you understood where they were coming from, there was no way you were letting whatever psycho was behind that mask take the only two people in this fucked up world that you cared about - one was already too many.

"Fuck that. Let's go."

The silence of the car trip was both eerie and serene. Both you and Tara had been tenderly looking at each other in silence for minutes on end, your eyes glancing back and forth between her flawless features and your conjoined hands.

Whilst losing Dewey was easily one of, if not the worst thing that has happened to you, as you admire Tara in the backseat of her sister's car, the passing street lights dimly lighting her face, you finally face the thought that you could have lost her too.

"I'm really happy that you're ok." you whisper, trying to hold onto your emotions as you swallow the lump in your throat. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you too". Squeezing your hand gently in response to your words, Tara looks similarly overwhelmed with emotions, her breathing becoming erratic.

"I don't know what I would've done if I lost you either", she responds breathlessly, her hand finally slipping out of yours as her attention shifts to her packed bag. Her sentimental words fail to sink in as you worriedly watch her search through her bag in a panic.

"Fuck, where is it?" "Where's what?" you asked worriedly, her frantic search causing your heart to race with anxiety. "My inhaler. I usually keep an extra one." "Should we go back" Sam chimes in, which causes both you, and apparently Richie, to internally panic. "Whoa, okay. I vote for not going back to the murder hospital" he speaks as if stealing the words from your mouth. "Should we stop at a pharmacy?" Sam suggests. "I'd need a prescription, but I left one at Amber's."

The pounding of your chest grew as you diverted your eyes outside the window. Just when you thought you had finally escaped Amber's murderous gaze, here you were finding out that not only were you probably about to go pay her a visit, but for Tara to have left a spare inhaler at her house, they must have been close - closer than you would like to imagine.

The thought made your body burn in unwarranted jealousy. You scolded yourself for feeling such a childish emotion. After all, you were the one who started ignoring her, not the other way around. "Is there seriously no other way we can get you one?" you spoke sharply, earning a confused glare from Tara at your tone. You refused to look at her as you felt her eyes scanning your side profile, your clenched jaw apparently obvious as her gaze softened slightly, "No..."

You slowly nodded your head in defeat as your heart plummeted. Your body clenched in agony as you turned back to the car window to watch the passing scenery in an effort to block out Richie's request for the location.

You would have preferred the murder hospital.

"Oh, perfect. She's having a party"

The loud music echoed through the car's closed windows as it came to a stop. The modest home on a dark and ominous street was now full of drunk teens who, for some unknown reason, decided to gather during the middle of a killing spree.

"I'll go in quickly and get it. I'll be back in five" "I'm coming too." Tara moves to unbuckle her seatbelt as Sam gets out of the car. "I'm coming with you" You follow Tara's movements as you unbuckle your seatbelt, albeit a bit more stiffly than Tara, a dull ache still in your torso.

Your words had caught Tara off-guard, her eyes studying you for a moment before she exited the car with Sam's help. She knew how you felt about Amber, how uncomfortable she made you. Even from miles away, she could tell how your body shifted uncomfortably whenever she was around you or how your usually lively expression would drop instantly when you caught a glimpse of her - or at least that was before you stopped talking to her.

Situated with her crutches under her arms, she looks over at you as you pull yourself out of the car, your posture still incredibly rigid as you close the door behind you and walk hesitantly around the vehicle until you are standing next to her.

"You ok?" she asks faintly, a hint of concern evident in her tone despite her inability to walk. "Yeah... You?" The ghost of a smile passes over your lips as your eyes meet hers, the softness in her gaze causing your heart to melt. "Yeah", she nods, her lips creeping upwards before Sam pulls her attention away from you.

The blaring music overwhelms your already delicate senses, the coloured lights straining your eyes as everyone starts the cheer at Tara's arrival. Although you felt like you were going into sensory overload, you couldn't help but admire how Tara looked under the euphoric lighting. Her typically gorgeous features now completely captivate you as you stare in awe - how could someone be so fucking perfect.

Your blissful admiring ended abruptly as Amber pushed her way through the crowd. "What are you doing out of the hospital? Should you even be up and around?" she said as she hugged Tara, your eyes averting themselves away from their affectionate embrace.

"I need my spare inhaler." "Why? where are you going?" You notice Tara's eyes shift towards Sam, who shakes her head at the question - a relief, considering you really didn't want Amber to know where you were going. "It's fine. Don't tell me. I get it. Just be safe, ok?.... I think it's in my room."

You couldn't help but scoff at her words. Of course it was in her room. Where else would it be. Your internal rant about how insufferable Amber was was sadly cut off by her words, "All right, everyone! Thanks for coming, but the party's over!" As you leant on your walking stick, your brows furrowed as the music stopped playing and the confused and angry calls of the partygoers came from all directions.

'Why is she ending the party?'. As far as you knew, she didn't need to do that. All she needed to do was disappear into her room for a minute to get the inhaler, and you would all be on your merry way. You now watched as everyone started to walk out the door, but your eyes were drawn to Tara as she shifted uncomfortably at Richie's mention of her attack. 'Prick'

Amber captured her attention as she rubbed her back sympathetically, earning herself a small smile from the girl. Your scowl grew due to the interaction, and your feet now carried you instinctively towards the one person left who meant anything to you.

"Can we just get the inhaler and get the fuck out of here" you interrupted, both of the girl's eyes landing on you with confused expressions - and a hint of anger on Ambers's part. "Sure thing, ghost face... but you're staying right here, away from Tara." her harsh words stung, your pained gaze landing on Tara, who simply looked at you blankly.

You tried to find words before Tara eventually spoke up, "Just stay here, y/n I'll be fine." she spoke plainly, already moving away from you with Amber on her tail. "You sure?" you call out. Tara turned her head back towards you with a small smile.

"I'll be right back I promise."

Sam was pacing around the house as you stood awkwardly in the entryway, shifting your weight between your stick and your feet as you tested whether you could walk without the irritating clicking that now followed your every step. If you were honest with yourself, you just wanted to leave. You wanted to run after Tara and pull her out of this goddamn house.

You obviously didn't know the layout of this house, but you were sure there was no way she could have taken this long to just grab her inhaler and go. You tapped your finger anxiously against the handle of your walking stick as Sam walked towards you, yelling, "Tara! We're leaving!". 'About time', you thought before you heard a phone start to ring.

You watched as Sam pulled out her phone, staring at it hesitantly before she inevitably pulled it up to her ear. "Hello?" you always hated only being able to hear one end of the phone call, but this one particularly angered you as you stared expectantly at Sam. "How do you know where I am?"

Silence.

You watch Sam's eyes flash with fear, her face going blank as she slowly scans her surroundings. As she finally stops still, terror overtaking her features, you begin to panic. "Sam? Sam, what's going on?" She blinks out of her trance, her mouth ajar as she sputters. "We have to get the fuck out of here."

As the last words left her mouth, a high-pitched scream pierced the air, followed by the sounds of furniture breaking, shattering the overbearing silence of the house. Sam bolts in the direction of the screams whilst you, being far less mobile, stumble in no particular direction, your head whipping around for any evidence of where Amber's room might be as your desperation to find Tara reaches your bursting point.

Eventually, stumbling into what looks like the living room, broken lamps and blood splatters covering a corner of the room. In that same corner, you notice Sam standing over Mindy's weakening figure. "No, Mindy, stay with me." You hobble further into the room, using the remaining furniture to support yourself as you make your way over to Mindy as quickly as possible.

Just as you make it over to the two girls, now covered in blood, you hear another piercing scream from behind you, causing your head to whip in its direction. "What did you do to her!?" Amber screams angrily as she storms into the room. 'Wait, is that Ta-' your thoughts are cut off as Amber throws you into the wall, her eyes staring daggers into your own.

You grunt in pain as Amber presses you into the wall, her hands gripping your shirt as your torso erupts in pain, causing your words to catch in your throat. "N-nothing. No, I didn't do anything." She scoffed before she let you fall to the floor, a whimper escaping your lips as you landed with a thud.

Curled up with your back against the wall, you squeezed your eyes shut in pain as your body throbbed. Feeble whimpers escaped your throat as your mind fogged over, the rapidly approaching clicks of crutches flying over your dazed head.

"God, Y/n!" your eyes crept open at the sound of a familiar voice calling your name. You watched as Tara made her way over to you in a panic. You couldn't tell whether it was the traces of painkillers left in your system making you loopy or whether you were just that desperate to feel like someone cared about you, but you couldn't help but admire her as she 'ran' over to you, her face painted with fear and yet you found it kinda cute.

She was stopped in her tracks when the sound of glass breaking echoed through the room. You silently scoffed as Amber stood protectively next to Tara, everyone's eyes darting towards Richie, who stood at the kitchen door with a broken beer bottle at his feet.

"What the fuck?" "Richie, where the fuck were you?!" Whilst everyone shouted at each other and Liv had at some point stumbled into the room, fuelled by pure desperation and jealousy, whilst Amber threw names around, you tried your best to stand up and close the remaining distance between you and Tara. Pushing with all the strength you had left in your legs, you managed to grasp onto a wooden set of draws and pull yourself up, now resting against them.

"Fuck you, Amber. I'm not the fucking killer!" Liv screamed in agony as you finally returned your attention to the chaos unfolding before you. Tara was already glancing at you with fear written all over her face as you glanced back and forth between her and the other group members.

"I know"

Liv's body fell to the floor with a loud thud as the sound of a gunshot filled the room. Breathing heavily, your eyes widened as they darted towards Amber, a smug smirk on her face as she proudly swung the gun around and pointed it directly at you.

"Welcome to act three"

You think you hear Richie scream 'Run', but as your eyes stare down the barrel of her gun, you remain frozen. A wave of nostalgia washes over you as your stitched wounds start to burn at the memory of the very night in the hospital. It slowly sank in that Amber was behind the mask that night.

The one that stabbed you mercilessly whilst undoubtedly plastering a smile all over her sick face.

The one that killed Dewey and, in doing so, took everything away from you.

The one that was about to kill you.

Your face was emotionless as she smirked at you. You had accepted your fate. The world hated you, so why not let it take you. Anticipating a bullet straight to the head like Liv had suffered moments ago, you were surprised when the gunshot went off, and your lights weren't immediately turned off.

Instead, you watched Tara intervene at the last second, putting Amber off as the bullet missed your head. You would have sighed in relief if your leg hadn't collapsed. Dropping onto the wooden floor, you gasp in pain as your eyes divert to your thigh, which is now spewing blood

"Y/n!" you hear Tara desperately cry, your eyes diverting away from the gaping hole in your leg to land on her tormented figure as Amber drags her out of the room. "Tara! Tara, no!" You attempt to push yourself off the floor, getting up onto your hands and knees as you work up the strength to follow her.

"Y/n! please!" she screams again, her voice becoming more distant every second. Sucking in a deep breath, you struggle to pull your good leg up from beneath you before your hand slips in your own pool of blood, causing you to fall flat on your stomach.

"No... N-No" you cry softly as you bleed out helplessly on the floor.

The sound of a distant gunshot causes your eyes to shoot open. The house has been eerily quiet for the past few minutes. When two more gunshots ring out, you turn your head from your position on the floor, attempting to see if you can see anything through the doorway.

The sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention as Amber appears from around the corner, gun still in hand. When she spots your fragile figure lying in a small pool of blood, she tilts her head playfully as the corner of her lips crack into a smirk.

Taking slow, calculated steps towards you, she crouches in front of you so her eyes meet yours. "Oh y/n... y/n, y/n, y/n." She taunted as you chewed on your bottom lip, knowing that if you made a snarky remark, she wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet right between your eyes.

"This feels awfully familiar, but I can't seem to think where from... Oh yeah, that's right... the hospital" she chuckles as you begin to cry, a solemn tear falling down the side of your face. "Look at you, so pathetic... Dewey can't save you now, can he." Any grip you had on your emotions was broken as soon as his name left her mouth.

"Fuck you", you spat, your body now seething with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. "Aw, aren't you feisty? You know, normally, I would just shoot you right now, kill you while I have the chance, but... I don't know, I think I'd rather see you die slowly... painfully."

She gave you a sarcastic pat on the shoulder as she stood back up and walked away, probably going to put her costume on. The eerie silence returns as Amber disappears, the front door opening, which you presumed was her leaving to continue her bloodbath. However, when you heard what sounded like Sidney calling out, your head lifted in hope.

"Anyone hiding, killer or not, you have five seconds to show yourself!", "In here! I'm over here! Help me, please." you begged as you continued to keep pressure on your bullet wound. When Sidney enters the room, you let out a wet chuckle in relief before she points the gun at you.

You raise your spare hand up in surrender, your eyes pleading with her for her help. You see her eyes flash in recognition. Although extremely hesitant at first, she eventually takes one last glance over her shoulder before she comes closer to you, kneeling down next to you as her eyes follow your hands to your thigh. She sucks a breath in as she reaches for a blanket on the couch behind her, tearing off a strip of its fabric before she ties it tightly around your leg, causing you to hiss in pain.

As soon as she tied the knot, she quickly got back to her feet and had her gun ready. "Stay here, okay?" You nod softly as she retreats from the room, a soft thank you escaping your lips as she disappears further into the house.

Staring at the ceiling, your hands sticky and painted a crimson red, you take slow, steady breaths to calm your racing heart. With numerous gunshots ringing through the house as Sidney undoubtedly searches every inch of it, you take in what will most likely be your last peaceful moments, knowing that this nightmare will only get worse.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the ground shook violently underneath you, the sound of gasps and groans accompanying it as your ears perked up in concern. Despite being riddled with pain, your leg feeling like a dead weight on your already weakened body, you push yourself up off the ground, grunting as you finally reach your feet.

Using the remnants of furniture as your crutch, you limp towards the commotion as a steady stream of blood escapes from your tourniquet, painting a thin red path down your leg. Your head spins as your heavy blood loss starts to take its toll, your eyesight becoming blurry as you eventually slump against the doorway leading towards the home's entrance.

"Yes! Yes!" "Shoot him!" Your jaw went slack as your eyes focused on what was happening before you. You watched as Sam stood over ghost face, who you presumed was Amber, with a gun pointed towards their head. You couldn't help but sigh slightly in relief at the thought of Amber getting what was coming to her, but that was cut short as Richie forced a knife into Sam's side.

A gasp fell from your lips. Both you and Sam are in complete disbelief. "I really, really wanted to be the one to kill you." You cringe in pain as Richie twists the knife in Sam's torso, the girl screaming in agony as her knees buckle underneath her. The smile on Richie's face made you sick, diverting your eyes away from the pair to try and escape the torturous sight.

However, you didn't find any relief as your eyes landed on Amber as she took off her mask before grabbing the gun from Richie's hand. She smirks at you as she harshly grabs Sidney's hair, pulling her head back so she grunts in pain and points the gun at you again.

Your strength starts to drain from your legs as you slowly slide down the wall, your face becoming a ghostly white as you slump against the floor. Your breathing is laboured as you look back towards Sam, your drooping eyes opening in disgust as Richie pulls Tara's inhaler out of his pocket.

"I can't believe this worked", he said, chuckling maniacally. "You son of a bitch!" you berated him from your place on the floor, staring at Richie with pure hatred burning behind your eyes, begging to be set free.

This was the last time you would let them take advantage of Tara.

"Where is Tara!? Where the fuck is she!? What did you do to her!?" you continued to yell, moving from your place on the wall to try and reach Amber, only for her to hit you across the face with her gun, your back violently falling onto the floor.

"Why do you care so much about her, huh? It's not like she cares about you. Why would she? Hell, I don't even know how she tolerated you... but if you seriously think Tara likes you, oh y/n, you've got another thing coming" Your eyes swam with tears, her words reawakening your most significant doubt about every 'friendship' you had ever had.

Why the fuck would they like you?

"Let's get'em into the kitchen"

"Dewey had to die to make it real. To show that this wasn't just some bullshit, cash-in, run-of-the-mil sequel". Pushed up against the kitchen counter, Amber points a bloodied knife dangerously close to your face as she yells her so-called 'reasoning' for taking your best friend's life, your adopted father, the one person you could wholly rely on.

Her and Richies speech had gone straight over your head, your mind instead focusing on Tara's absence from what would appear a vital part of their plan where they wanted everyone alive to be. They even brought an injured Gale into the conversation, perhaps just to taunt her about Dewey, but it still left you panicking. You had had enough of their useless justification.

You had to find Tara dead or alive - preferably the latter.

"Because our movie has fucking stakes! Cause anyone can die in a requel" As Amber turns her head away from you, you take your opportunity as you reach for a knife left carelessly on the counter. Your fingertips graze the knife's handle as Amber's is shoved into your torso, a hoarse groan escaping your throat as your legs buckle underneath you at the burning pain.

At this point, your entire body is riddled with pain. Your stitches stretch with each way you turn, your legs throb with every step you take, and now with every heavy breath you inhale, your torso burns in agony, the familiar crimson liquid cascading down your body one too many times.

"Whoa, whoa, who do we have here?" Richie mocks as he kneels down in front of you. "Y/n was it?... well y/n, I'm so sorry, but we can't let you live either, can we? I mean..." he humorously chuckles, "you weren't even supposed to be here in the first place... but now that you're here, the more bodies, the better." he smiles at you as if he thinks he is doing you a favour, the bitter taste of defeat begins to resurface as you squeeze your eyes and drop your head.

"Get Tara out of the closet. We got to start staging the bodies!" Your eyes dart towards Richie as Tara's name leaves his mouth, the desperation of your movement causing your head to spin. "What the fuck did you do to her!" You screamed brokenly at him as Amber left the room, your voice cracking in pure exhaustion and fear. His previously playful look turned dark as he stared at you menacingly.

He playfully juggled the gun between his hands before shoving the barrel point-blank between your eyes. "You wanna say that again?" he smirks arrogantly, both of you knowing he has all the power in this situation. With the pistol pushing against your forehead, the barrel still warm from its recent kills, you aggressively bite your lip as you swallow down all the words on the verge of spilling out of your mouth.

"Um, she's not here." You hear Amber shout from a different area of the house. You watch as the smug look on Richie's face quickly drops as he gets back to his feet, his pistol still aimed at your head. "What the fuck do you mean 'she's not here'?" "She's not here!" Your head turned to Sam in conclusion, the hint of a smirk evident on her face causing your own to begin to grow on your lips.

"I untied her." You couldn't help but chuckle at her words. You push yourself back, so your back is leaning against the kitchen cabinets, your body naturally relaxing in relief as the thought of Tara being alive becomes much more realistic.

"Guess you're not as persuasive as you thought" "Fucking idiot", you laughed, the agony your body was in turning into some kind of high as a giddy smile crept onto your tired features. You giggled weakly, blissfully unaware of Richies approaching figure until his face was a few inches in front of yours.

He didn't say anything, instead swinging his armed hand across your face violently, the blunt end of the pistol connecting harshly with your cheekbone as your head turned sideways at the force. You weakly reached your hand towards your now stinging cheek, your fingers gently travelling across a new cut that painted your fingers red.

Your eyes were pulled away from your newly painted fingers when you heard Amber's shouts interrupted by a loud thud. The sound of a struggle echoed through the house and into the kitchen as Richie tried to hide the worry evident on his face as his plan unravelled before him.

"Amber?" he called cautiously as he looked in the direction the girl had gone, leaving the four of you now unnoticed. With him distracted, Sam takes her opportunity to try and grab the gun from Richie's hand. A stray gunshot goes off as Sam tackles him to the ground. You watch as the two of them struggle before, as quickly as you physically can, you frantically crawl out of the kitchen, determined to find Tara.

In your admittedly weak and dazed state, the halls and rooms of Amber's house turned into a maze. Each corner you turned and each room you checked came up empty - and you had no fucking clue where you were. You had been silently stumbling around the dark house, avoiding and hiding from the screaming and shouting coming in the direction you thought was the kitchen.

"Tara?" "Tara, where are you?" "Tara come on, where are you?" "Please, where are you?" you desperately whispered as you navigated the house. With each step you took, you could feel your body growing weaker, your adrenaline beginning to wear off as your energy finally began to deplete.

The echoing of screams and gunshots, as much as you wanted to ignore them, eventually pulled your attention away from your distraught search for Tara. After all, for all you knew, she was the source of said screams, a thought which made your stomach twist in fear.

With a thick trail of blood following your every move, you essentially drag yourself towards the sound of Richie's maniacal laughter. Now apparently incapable of feeling shocked, you eventually find yourself watching blankly as Richie leans over Sam's figure with a gun to her throat.

"Never fuck with the daughter of a serial killer."

You stare, amazed, as Sam begins to 'stab the shit' out of Richie, blood splattering all over the girl's figure as the pool of blood underneath Richie's now mutilated body grows. When she slits his throat, his body begins to seize underneath her as she glares at his dying figure with a vengeful look on her blood-covered face.

Stumbling as she stands up from his body, you limp towards her, the sound of your heavy footsteps catching her attention as she looks over at you. You watch her eyes flash with relief at the sight of you still alive, her lips twitching ever so slightly upwards as you finally reach her side.

The sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen caused both of your heads to turn in fear, a feeling which instantly dissolved as you watched Gale and Sidney walk in behind you, eyes fixated on Richie's body.

"Careful, they always come back." You turn your head away and squeeze your eyes shut as you hear Sam fire three shots into Richie's mangled body, the sound of his blood squelching sending shivers down your spine. After a beat of silence, you look back at Tara's older sister, a new sense of fear reawakening.

"W-Where's Tara?" you ask shakily, Sam's face similarly painted in worry as tears flow down your cheeks. "W-Where the f-fuck is she? Please s-someone t-tell me where s-she is" you begged, looking between the three women surrounding you.

None of them answered you.

"I-I need to find Tara." you said flatly, moving to limp away from the group before your plans were cut short by a harrowing scream. Your widened eyes watch as a disgustingly disfigured Amber comes running at you from the kitchen, a blade in hand as she causes you to stumble back in shock.

Her rampage was quickly ended by yet another gunshot, this time not from one of the girls around you. With a confused look on your distraught face, your eyes dart towards where the bullet came from.

Tara.

You let out a heavy sigh as you spot her shaky figure holding up a smoking gun. "I still prefer the Babadook", she inhales shakily after her words, finally lowering the gun as the realisation that both of the psychos behind the masks were finally dead.

You let out a wet chuckle in relief as you breathlessly limp towards her. She meets you in the middle, where despite your numerous injuries, you wrap her in a crushing embrace, sobbing into her shoulder in pure happiness. "A-are you okay?" you whisper shakily into her ear. She nods as she pulls back slightly, your teary eyes meeting hers as you give her your best attempt at a comforting smile.

"Are you good?" she asks you, her fear still evident in her tone. Your hands are clutched to her clothes as you nod in response, desperate to shut up the terrified part of your brain that thinks all this is too good to be true.

Your eyes soften in her gaze, all the pain throughout your body melting away as Tara hesitantly reaches her hands towards your face, resting gently on either side as her thumb caresses your cheek. She stares at you momentarily with a euphoric look on her face, her eyes scanning yours for any sense of discomfort.

You were moments from pulling away when you noticed her gaze flicker down towards your lips. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, butterflies erupt in your wounded stomach, and your breath catches in your throat as your eyes now risk a glance at her delicate lips.

Deciding she had waited long enough, Tara eagerly pulls your face towards her own as her lips capture yours in a desperate kiss. Despite having wanted this to happen for longer than you could remember, the feeling of her warm lips against yours surprises you, nothing but her overwhelming your senses.

Your hands snake around her waist, forming a tight grip, your lips beginning to move against hers with a renewed passion whilst remaining gentle in both of your fragile states. As your pace began to slow and your harboured breathing mirrored hers, you entered a state of pure bliss.

You couldn't fucking believe this was happening.

Unfortunately, due to your shared need for oxygen, Tara's soft lips hesitantly left yours as your foreheads remained connected. As your e/c eyes met hers once again, a giddy smile overtook your tired features as the realisation that Tara does like you back sinks in.

She was alive, and she was with you.

And that was all you could possibly ask for.

Tag-list:@nitchxhdc @emeraldevan @looseheartedlady @the-night-owl-blr @badassjaguar @txmxav @oh-thats-cute @blckrwidow @cacciatricediartemide @flaiire1805 @rainbow-love4ever @fall-08 @simp4nat @natashadeservedmore @livingforwaddams @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers @wifeyjennaortega @thenextdawn @zhasmindoesntknow @faunusrubyrose @harleyspunchingbag @yourmamacom @rockwyn @androgynouscloudenemy @padf00ts-l0ver @wol-fica @captainbeat

#jenna ortega angst #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega imagine #tara carpenter imagine #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream #scream 2022

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arts-bloody-rose · 18 days ago

Text

Blood of A Rose - Bait and Switch (Art the Clown x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary - A series of unfortunate events leads to (Y/n) turning on her favorite clown.

Notes - Based on a request to show reader snapping on Art 🫢 I originally wanted to take a smutty approach, but I didn’t feel that it was realistic to his character and behavior in this scenario so decided not to for this one.

Word Count - 1,926

Warning(s) - Acts of aggression, minor argument/tension, angst

Song Inspiration -

Ice Nine Kills - Ex-Mørtis

The rain started the week. It wasn’t the soft, misty kind (Y/n) usually enjoyed during her peaceful walks through the cemetery, finding time for herself to recoup.

No, it was a downpour that began when she was still a good distance from home. An unrelenting, soaking storm that had her sprinting back, camera now ruined despite her best efforts to shield it.

When she entered the building, anyone who even glanced at her would steer clear. She stood stiff in front of the door that closed behind her, clothes drenched and dripping wet along with her hair that stuck to her face. Her eyes held a heavy glare, filled with hatred for the universe that defied her.

As she shuffled into the work area that Art occupied in front of his desk, she made her way over and took the camera from around her neck, nearly slamming it onto the empty stool beside him.

Art jumped, items dropping from his hands and snapped his head to look over at her. He took in her disheveled appearance and emotionless expression, then suddenly started to hunch over in laughter. He motioned at her during his fit and held a hand over his stomach as she crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look.

“I don’t suppose you know how to fix a water-damaged camera?”

He then gasped, laughter coming to a halt. He pointed to the soaking camera and her eyebrow twitched in confirmation. Art pouted and solemnly shook his head.

She rolled her eyes and went on to spend the next few hours trying to salvage what she could, praying the water hadn’t seeped into the lens she so loved, but no amount of drying or tinkering helped. The final death blow came when the shutter jammed with a soft click. Silent, but devastating.

The tone was set for what she now declared a dreadful week.

(Y/n) woke up the next night to find her latest series submission, Memento Mori, was shredded by protestors through the local newspaper. She had come to expect the harsh criticism, but something about this particular review clawed at her. It was brutal, dismissive, and worst of all, physically destroyed her work.

Tasteless, is what they called it. As if her entire soul, spilled across her paintings and photos, could be reduced to a single word. (Y/n), who had always been quiet and careful about how she handled criticism, could barely stop her hands from trembling as she lowered the paper with an incredulous chuckle.

It stung in a way it hadn’t in a long time. And that sting stayed with her as her hand came up to press against her forehead in disbelief.

“I don’t get it. These same people go out and watch people get slaughtered for fun in the movies, dress up all bloody and disfigured for some holiday, yet when I put it on a canvas it’s morbid?” (Y/n) ranted and ripped the newspaper in half, tossing it into a steel bucket and beginning to pace.

Sensing the rising tension, Art put down his tools and spun on his stool to face her, one leg crossed over the other with his hands folded over his knee as he gave her his full attention.

She whipped to face him, hand on her hip as she continued. “Am I really that fucking messed up? Am I wrong? Just because I don’t follow their status quo?”

Art shook his head with a snobbish expression, pointing his nose up, hand shooing at the space beside him.

“Trust me, I wish I could brush it off, but when someone tears up my work, that’s an entirely different story.” His face twisted into an offended countenance, nearly breaking his neck with how quickly he looked at her.

He then stood and grabbed the ripped newspaper from the bucket, holding the two pieces together to read the article. He analyzed the photos provided showing security cam footage of the perpetrators, taking in every detail of the individuals involved.

Art then dropped it back into the bucket, stalking past her to grab his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He turned to look at (Y/n) who simply watched indifferently and nodded his head towards the door for her to follow him.

As the rest of the week piled on with a series of small mishaps, it seemed as if she was only inching closer to her breaking point. The littlest inconveniences chipped away at her already weaker state of mind given what had happened already.

Packages arriving late, leaving her without the materials she needed for her next gallery submission. Tripping over a piece of wood laying around in the work area to which she casually flipped off. Her shirt getting caught on a doorknob as she walked past it in an already irritated state of mind.

(Y/n) tried to push it all aside to maintain her usually calm demeanor, but it all inevitably added to the growing pit of frustration in her chest. She felt it slowly spreading, a storm forming just beneath her skin.

By Friday, her patience was thinner than spider silk.

She painted the canvas on her easel, limited to such mediums as her new camera had yet to be delivered. She felt the metal piece connecting the bristles to the handle wiggle as it loosened over time, teetering on the edge of falling off as she painted in the finer details of her work.

As per usual, Art sat at his desk beside her, tinkering away. He then paused with a thoughtful expression, tapping the screwdriver in his hand against a nearby empty jar.

(Y/n) sighed, trying to keep calm as she thought the sound wouldn’t last too long and he would go back to working. When it didn’t, she took a deep breath to compose herself.

“Please stop.” She asked politely, but he caught her irritated undertone and his eyes glimmered.

He held up the hand that was tapping in an apology, nodding before looking back at what was in front of him. As (Y/n) continued to paint through the interaction, he grinned mischievously.

The tapping resumed and (Y/n) poked her tongue at the inside of her cheek, dropping her arm that was painting and tapped her foot. She closed her eyes to calm herself once she felt the familiar sense of anger begin to bubble, taking another deep breath. “Art, stop.” She asked a second time, her voice now firm.

He pouted and put his hands in his lap, looking down at it in disappointment. She paused for a moment, waiting for him to start back up. When she deemed it clear, she lifted her arm again and resumed painting.

For the third time, the tapping resumed, this time in a rhythm. Her heart began to race as the frustration continued to build, nearly spilling over. It felt as if the sound was only getting louder, the high-pitched sound of the glass nearly painful.

Just as she thought it couldn’t get any worse, the tip of the brush finally fell off and paint smeared onto the canvas as it fell.

Without hesitation, she dropped the handle and snatched the jar from Art’s desk, chucking it against the wall nearby and shattering it to pieces.

She stared at Art furiously, nose flaring slightly. His hands were up in defense, mouth creating an ‘o’ of surprise with eyebrows raised. He then smiled deviously, setting down his tools without breaking eye contact and rising from his chair intimidatingly.

Her head tilted up to look at him, standing her ground and expression unchanging as he stepped in front of her. His hand then snatched her jaw, almost painfully as he forced her to hold his gaze. His nose twitched before he suddenly let go, turning away from her with a frown and walking towards his bag.

He picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder and looked at her one last time before walking out of the building.

(Y/n) stared at the door as it closed behind him, taking a deep breath. She turned to look at the shards of glass on the floor, biting her lip in thought. One of her hands covered her eyes, then ran down her face before she grabbed a broom sitting against a corner and began to sweep up the mess.

Guilt began to set in as she finished, deciding to wind down in her room before anything else had happened. She sank into the edge of her bed, elbows on her knees as her hands held her head.

(Y/n) tried to defend him, telling herself that he was just trying to cheer her up. But that couldn’t have been true. He knew she was irritated and went ahead and continued to annoy her anyways. But that still didn’t mean she had to lash out at him of all people.

He had his own personal oddities and behaviors that were out of the norm, but he still had her best interest in mind. He just didn’t know how to properly show it and she should have been more understanding.

(Y/n) eventually laid down on the bed, closing her eyes as her music played softly in the background.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been before she heard the front door open again, a couple of hours at the least. She shot up from her bed, taking a deep breath and stood to open her door. She looked to her left, seeing Art’s now bloodied form dropping his bag in the workroom and she immediately walked over to him.

Art jumped when he felt arms wrap around his torso from behind, face twisted into confusion before he realized what was happening. His shoulders relaxed, expression neutral as his dirtied hands came up to rest over (Y/n)’s arms.

Her breath seeped through his suit as she sighed and he patted her arm, turning around in her grasp to face her. She looked up at him with apologetic eyes, lips frowning and his head tilted endearingly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you…” She mumbled in shame, gnawing at her lip anxiously as he stared down at her with a level of intensity that was almost too much to bear.

Art patted her cheek, his usual smile popping onto his face when he pulled away from her and motioned for her to wait a second. He turned to his bag and began to dig through it, picking out a few things before turning back to her.

In his hands were new brushes. From the looks of it, they seemed to be of higher quality and her eyes lit up.

The smile now on (Y/n)’s face nearly rivaled his own as she gently took the brushes from him, eyeing them in appreciation. She giggled excitedly and hugged him tightly, cheek squished against his chest. He patted her back, tipping his hat when she pulled away.

“But why? I snapped at you?” She asked genuinely.

He simply shrugged with a sheepish look and she giggled and shook her head, stepping up to kiss him on his cheek. He blinked rapidly at her, swinging abashedly.

“Why are they bloody?” (Y/n) asked him with a smirk when he started to turn to make his way to his desk.

Art froze, lips downturned as if he was caught in the act with wide eyes, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

Tag list: @callsignwidow @hoe-for-daddywise

#art #art the clown #art the clown x reader #damien leone #david howard thornton #terrifier #terrifier 2 #x reader #blood of a rose #fanfiction #terrifier 1 #terrifier x reader #clown #slashers #angst with a happy ending #angst #terrifier 3

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emeritusemeritus · 8 months ago

Text

Call me by your name [Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Reader]

Pairing: FredWeasley x Malfoy!Reader

Timeline: OOTP, reader and twins are in their 7th year.

Summary: Malfoy!Reader had been successfully hiding her secret relationship with Fred Weasley for years. What happens when Fred no longer wants to hide? Cue angsty breakup and makeup fic!

Warnings: Mentions of deatheaters, Umbitch, negative commentary of status and wealth. House divide, negative talk of Slytherins. Abusive parents. Sorry Narcissa, I actually like you. Mentions of arranged marriages, swearing, public declarations of love. DA and inquisitorial squad mentions.

Word count: 3.4k

This came from a wonderful request from my dear @kellyxo1, as always thank you so much for your wonderful request, hope this is okay!🖤

The air in the stuffy old Manor House was unbearably cold and stale, much like the family that resided there. The home of the Malfoy family, much like their surname, was figure of stature and tradition, a paragon of social status that oozed wealth and importance on account of their pure-blood status. Each member of the family had been selected by the sorting hat upon their arrival at Hogwarts to enter into the house of Slytherin, a fact the family was most proud of, another ode to their pure-blood roots and continued beliefs. Every malfoy had followed in the footsteps of the previous generation, marrying into other pure-blood families as to keep the bloodline strong, fraternising with equally powerful families that held the same beliefs, each out to gain and maintain status in the wizarding community.

"He's younger than me!" You shriek, you left arms lifting into the air as you look upon the stiff and unemotional faces of your parents who stand by the edge of your bed, delivering the news.

"Blaise is a fine boy and he shall make a fine husband," your father says, as if he truly believed the words that he was speaking. "He's from a long line of Slytherin's, a good student and a promising young wizard."

"He's a complete twat," you argued, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, completely exasperated by the conversation you were forced to endure with your parents.

"It's only two years difference," your mother says, trying to remain at least diplomatic as your father gave you a thunderous look for your selection of language.

"He's a friend of Draco's! It's archaic and barbaric." You added, trying to express your disgust at the very thought but it was immediately apparent that your parents did not share in your distaste, nor understand it.

"Young lady!" Your father hissed in displeasure, the veins on his head looking fit to burst.

"I just don't understand why I have to marry someone with status," you say, in a calm and somewhat emotionless voice, realising that your emotive reaction was doing no favours here. "I don't understand why I have to be married at all, much less to somewhat that wasn't my choice."

"We want the best for you," your mother adds, her hands clasped in front of her as her gaze flicks between you and your father. It's a blatant lie, a way of manipulating you into following their path but it wouldn't work, not this time.

"Then let me make my own choices," you retort, not meeting their eyes.

"So you can run back to that blood traitor?" Your father all but screams, his temper exploding as he throws his cane, narrowly missing the house elf that was tending to the paintings in the hallway just outside of your door. He storms off in a flurry of black robes, almost growling under his breath as you hear his heavy footsteps marching angrily away.

The mention of Fred makes your stomach roil dangerously, filling you with hatred for your family, for the life you'd been born into. You don’t know how they came to know about your situation, but you detested their use of it against you. The anger dissipates slightly as you watch your mother perch on the side of your bed, hands still folded in her lap as she looks at you with a conflicted expression.

"We just want what's best," your mother repeats but you interject, frustrated by her attempt to keep pushing the matter you were so obviously not open to discussing.

"You had your chance! You chose to marry for money and status," you replied, a harsh tone to your voice that you'd seldom used at your mother.

"I didn't have a choice!" She says, her voice coming out like a hiss as her resolve drops so that you finally see her fraying nerves.

You pause, taking a moment to really see your mother as a young woman that was in your position so many years ago.

"If it's so bad why would you want that for your own daughter?" You ask, trying to appeal to her though your emotional delivery, trying to reach out for that young woman who must have felt exactly how you did right now.

She refuses to meet your eyes, nor answers your question. You realise very quickly that you're getting nowhere and never would. All emotions exit you as you look upon your mother feeling no love or affection, nor receiving any in return.

As you looked upon the vision of your mother and thought of your fathers reaction, you felt an empty void of emotion where love should be. The chasm of happy memories was empty, at least when it came to your family.

Right then you thought of Molly and Arthur, of the whole family and the strong, foundational outpouring of love in which the family was built around. Two people that loved one another deeply, building a life and a family, creating a warm and loving home for their children to thrive in.

They'd be celebrating Christmas right now, with gorgeous homemade food and handmade presents, surrounded by love and laughter and maybe the occasional cross word.

Poor in wealth but rich with love; and you would always chose that over this.

"I refuse to marry Blaise Zabini or any other pure blood suitor you deem acceptable," you say matter of factly, your voice completely void of emotion as you made your point clear. "I'll make my own choices in life. You may not have been strong enough to resist the pressure but I am, I refuse to be forced into a loveless marriage and live out a miserable existence like you."

"You're no daughter of ours," your mother sneers. "No. I'm not."

Later that night, you lay in your dark and dreary bedroom, looking around at the bare, lifeless walls that held no sentiment nor icon of your personality, your life. You thought of Fred and George's bedroom and how cluttered it must be, with all their quidditch memorabilia and Weasley products lying around. They'd have bedspreads that had been knitted for them, fresh sheets that smelt like their home and little trinkets around the room that had been collected throughout their lives. You had none of that, even down to the colourless and scentless sheets on your bed. You thought of Fred often, the boy you loved more than anything in the world. The boy that had seen past your surname and your Slytherin placement and still loved you regardless. He hadn't been prejudiced or hateful, nor had he used you to gain status in the Wizarding community. He simply loved you because he loved you.

Loved.

Memories flashed behind your eyes of happier times, your relationship strengthening over the years until you were completely infatuated with each other, planning your futures in hushed whispers and promising secrets. You could be yourself around Fred, completely unashamed of the things you'd believed for so long to be personal failures and character faults.

You'd been together since your fifth year, unable to deny the attraction any longer. You'd started sneaking around, stolen kisses in the secret passageways, sneaking out after hours, notes slipped into pockets, fingers grazing as you walked past eachother pretending the other didn't exist. You secretly cheered for each and every hit he'd administer on the quidditch pitch, every dive and skilful deflection of the bludger. Though you couldn't cheer or support him outright, you always kept a little something on you in Gryffindor red that you both knew meant that you were there for him.

After a while, you told your small group of friends and Fred told his, including his siblings. There were tensions at first, of course there was, but after seeing how good for each other you were, of how happy you were together, the grievances quickly quietened.

His friends became yours too, a real and honest group of friends that too could rely on, share with and care for in return.

You didn't have to hide anymore, at least not with them. But Slytherins much like their name were mostly all vicious snakes, with sharp tongues and deceitful tendencies. You couldn't let them know, couldn't allow them to spoil the singular good thing you had in your life and so for the most part, your relationship remained hidden to the wider school.

It was exciting at first, rebelling against the restrictive and domineering upbringing you were forced into. You weren't like your parents or Draco, or any members of your family really. You were certainly no deatheater and didn't hold the same disgusting values that they did. Blood trainers, mud bloods, muggleborns or muggles, everyone should have the right to be treated the same, to live their life without fear or prejudice.

Fred knew, he knew you weren't one of them, that you were better, different than your name but also that you couldn't step out of line for fear of the repercussions you'd face. Or at least, you thought he understood.

Your seventh year at Hogwarts, your last. The last hurdle to get through before you could truly be your own person and break away from the chains of being a Malfoy. You had a plan, carefully and slowly formulated for years for the eventual day you'd be your own person and free to make your own choices, leaving your family behind. Your world would gain colour and warmth instead of the cold and monochrome world you felt you loved in. Only, it wouldn't happen now, at least not as you always planned it.

Things had been going so well, you were on track to ace your NEWTS, your relationship with Fred was almost blissful and with everything happening behind the scenes, it kept your parents busy and mostly out of your way. But then it all started to crack when Fred became Fred up of sneaking around, becoming paranoid and suspicious of your true intentions. You'd tried your hardest to squash these intrusive thoughts, to calm his nerves and to show him just exactly how much you wanted him but for so many reasons you couldn't be open about it. He'd face repercussions too, not just you. But he didn't see it that way, said he didn't care, that he just wanted to be able to be in love without having to hide it.

The last nail in the proverbial coffin came when Umbridge turned up and tried imposing her disgusting views upon the students, altering the curriculum and moving in favour of the deatheaters under the guise of ministry control. You'd joined Dumbledore's Army without a scone thought, knowing it was the right thing to do. The only Slytherin who was invited to join, their trust in you appreciated. But then Umbridge had formed the inquisitorial squad and you'd never felt a more painful divide in your life. Your younger brother had proudly joined, sadistically enjoying the power he was bestowed with. The danger of being discovered , found to be a traitor and the consequences of that were almost enough to make you quit the DA, but you persevered with increasingly fraying nerves.

You were stressed, tormented by the divide in your life and the conflicting expectations of you with no outlet to express your frustrations.

So you did what you had to do and fought harder to keep your relationship a secret, to keep the one good thing in your life away from the dementor-like happiness stealing of your family. The Christmas holidays were coming up and your anxiety was peaking at having to spend an extended amount of time away from your boyfriend and friends and have to go back to that dreary manor with your even drearier family. Fred could tell that something was up with you, that you were unhappy, tense and quiet but he never stopped to read between the lines, to see the big picture. Instead, his insecurities began to plague him again until one day you both snapped.

"I just don't understand why we still have to hide!" He says with a frustrated growl, pinching the area between the bridge of his nose and his eyebrows.

"Because I can't be without you!" You say back, voice raising to a dangerous level as you become irritated at having the same conversation over and over again. "If my family find out that's it, they'll force me to stop dating you, lock me away. I'll never be able to leave then."

"So what, I'm just a part of your plan? A stepping stone for you to break away and then as soon as you're free you can throw me away? Thanks for that mate, sorry to using you and all," he mocks, only furthering your anger that you're painfully trying to repress.

"Using you? You think that's what this is? You think you're just a pawn for me, even after two years of loving you?"

"You tell me," he says, eyes dark.

"Unbelievable," you say under your breath, closing your eyes as you take a seat on one of the wooden crates down in the passageway between the staircases and Honeydukes, your regular spot.

"Or are you embarrassed by me, is that it? The poor, scruffy Weasley boy that fell for the rich, beautiful Malfoy. The prophet would have a field day, wonder if they'll make us into a film," he rants, a vicious side appearing in his tone. "The deatheater and the peasant."

"How dare you!" You say, standing up in a fit of rage, squaring up to him like you'd never done before; the insult he'd so readily dished out feeling like a blast to the heart. "I'm no more a death eater than you are you prick! You think I'm embarrassed of you? I think you're ashamed of me, ashamed that you fell for the bad seed, the villain. I think you can't stand that I'm a Malfoy and you know it. My surname bothers you much more than your's bothers me."

"Yeah maybe it does."

Silence. His words are met with sheer silence, except for the pounding of your breaking heart. I'm your worst nightmares you'd never expected those words to fall from his lips, for him to admit the thing you'd been fearing the most since your crush of him started to bloom. You were tainted goods, a person that tried her hardest to be good that would always be haunted and spoiled by her name.

"No, no sweetheart I didn't mean, I don't think that," he began backtracking, realising that he'd gone way too far this time. "It makes me crazy that I can't shout from the bloody roof that you're mine no matter how much I want to. I don't care that you're a... Malfoy," he says, reaching out for you to hold you close, knowing that he was hanging by a thread here.

You're quiet for a moment as you take in his words, unsure of how to proceed.

"Maybe you're right, about it all," you paused. "But if you wanted me to believe all that, you should have said my surname with less disgust."

You turned around walked away, ignoring his calls, barely holding yourself together until you made it back to your dormitory and finally allowing yourself to sob. You should have known you could never be happy, it was ridiculous to think that anyone could ever get past the fact that you were born to be bad.

The week that followed before the holiday was sheer torture. You gathered sympathetic looks front your friends, or rather Fred's friends but were unable to get any actual comfort as you couldn't fraternise with the social enemy.

Fred however, hadn't spared you a single glance since that evening in the tunnel, the fight that had ended your relationship, or so it seemed. He went back to pretending you didn't exist, believing your harsh words all to easily. He'd said things on his side too but you thought, stupidly, that you'd be able to explain that you were simply retaliating. Apparently he wouldn't give you a chance to explain.

"Maybe you're right, about it all."

Those words haunted you, cut you deeper than any splinching ever could. If only you'd pushed down your anger, never said those words, he'd still be yours. But now he wasn't.

Christmas break was miserable, even more so than usual as you sat alone in your bedroom, physically and mentally distanced from any sense of company.

You though of Fred often, wondering what he was up to, wondering if he was happy. You hoped his dad was okay after hearing through the grapevine about his attack. You hoped that even if it was just a little, that he was missing you.

When you got back to school, you were just as miserable and separated from your peers as you were at home. The friendship group you'd built up of good people still have you distanced smiles and sympathetic glances but you felt the distance more than ever. It lasted for a few days before you'd had enough, completely depleted and in need of something good back, you needed Fred. You tried to think of ways to get him alone, to explain but you couldn't think of anything. You sat in the Great Hall, completely separated from your Gryffindor friends and sat between two of the most bearable Slytherins you could find, trying to ignore the boasting and mockery your brother was bestowing a little further up the table.

It makes me crazy that I can't shout from the bloody roof that you're mine no matter how much I want to.

You looked around you, considering your options. It wasn't a rooftop per se, but it would do.

You climbed up on the table, unfazed by the cries of outrage of the people around you as you ascended, trying to be mindful of the plates and glasses on the table. Draco shouts at you to get down, what are you doing, but much like always, you ignore him. The commotion began pulling people's attention towards you but you knew you had to make it quick because the faculty and teachers were starting to notice.

"I have something to say," you said, projecting your voice until you were certain you’d be heard across the hall. “I’ve been hiding something, for so long, something that never should have been hidden in the first place. I was scared and stupid. I’m a Malfoy, a Slytherin… but I’m completely and hopelessly in love with a Gryffindor.” You look up to where Fred is watching you with wide eyes, the first hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. Your eyes quickly flick over to George who is beaming at you, enjoying the demented display you were putting on, encouraging you to continue before you lost your nerve.

“Fred Weasley I’ve loved you since that bloody third year Quidditch match when George hit that bludger at Snape and you winked at me for laughing. You told me that we didn’t have to hide, that you’d shout from the rooftops, well this is the best I could do considering.”

Fred makes his way to you quickly, sensing that the teachers were on their way to inevitably punish you.

“You’re bloody insane woman,” he says with a laugh, unfazed by the entire hall watching you as he holds out his hand for you to come down. You smile at him, so happy to see him smile at you again, to hear his voice.

“Y/n Malfoy! Get down, get down! Detention!”

Instead of helping you down, Fred suddenly seizes your hand and uses you to pull himself up until he was also stood on top of the Slytherin table, cackling at the groans of the other slytherins around you.

“Mr Weasley, detention!”

“More time to spend with you,” he shrugs, smiling as he bends down to kiss you wildly in the middle of the hall as cheers erupt around you, making you both laugh into the kiss.

“It really doesn’t bother you that I’m a Malfoy?” You ask, suddenly bothered by what he’d said before as you pull away slightly. His hand holds your cheek as he smirks, shrugging his shoulders.

“Not gonna be a Malfoy for much longer, I plan on making you a Weasley as soon as possible.”

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353 notes · View notes

mannaima · 2 years ago

Note

Literally literally literally just Joel and like desperate sex. Like he is crushing you (Me? All of us? Idk) trying to hold you closer and drive himself in deeper. I’ll die. I’ll die.

Hold me close.

Summary: An odd friendship turned into something deeper…

Warnings: NSFW, smut, female! reader, dub-con(ish)(reader is just a little unsure at first but def has some horniness for joel), age gap (reader is mid20s, Joel is mid 50s) L-bombs being dropped, general pervy vibes from Joel, Joels a little ooc (much friendlier…)

Word count: 4.1K

Authors note: hhhhhhh thinking of a clingy sex depraved Joel is giving me like. Brain rot. SO so hot.

Your eyes fluttered open, waking up in a small dingy bed in a semi-clean place you called home. You never truly felt like it was home, just a place to sleep in and avoid the terrible people. You admit, you were dramatic, but after too many encounters with sickos who befriended you, only to steal what little you had on your back, maybe you had a reason too. You took a glance at yourself in the mirror. What was to be said about the life you lived? Wake up, work an odd job, come home, and sleep. You didn’t even have the solace of a stiff drink after a hard day of labor, no, long gone were the days of luxuries such as that. You could spend two days of ration cards on a ciggie, but you’d be left starving with a short-lived relief from life. You just sighed, and brought yourself to your small collection of clothing.

You moved in auto-pilot, hovering from place to place in your home, nothing ever changed. Slipping on the final piece of your “uniform,” as you liked to call it, you walked out the door into the outside world. It was gloomy, it usually was, but that was all you had to say about the world beyond your empty walls. You didn’t care what job you got, just the one that paid the highest. After lining up among the bodies of soulless wage slaves you paid no mind to, you finally received your assignment. Body burning. Despite the persona you had made of yourself, you still cried after seeing the bodies of the lifeless. Potential. Just gone. You walked to the job site.

Watching your feet hit the gravel in a pattern, you suddenly felt yourself stopped, you had bumped into something, or rather- someone.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Your voice was meek, unaware of the danger that lay in front of you. Could be a crazy person looking for a problem, or someone on a power trip. The universe was merciful to you today.

“It’s alright.” A deep voice with a slight southern drawl, you had looked up for a second, but all you saw was the back of a much larger man, he paid no mind to you. You sighed under your breath, in relief, and moved around him, just to avoid another mishap. The “conversation,” if one could call it that, was already doing a strain on your head.

--------

The job site was filled with people, all with an emotionless expression. Work just wasn’t anything to smile about. Especially the matter you were dealing with. You had to ‘partner’ up with someone essentially, both taking out bodies to put into the pit of fire. As the trucks of bodies arrived, a man stood next to you, signaling you two were together. You looked at him. Same color shirt as the man who you bumped into. Same height. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Thoughts swirled in your head, you hoped he didn’t recognize you. Of course he wouldn’t, he didn’t even look back at you!

Putting the bodies in the pit was no easy task, it took a heavy amount of strength, which you were thankful to have. Despite helping each other throw the bodies, you shared no words with each other, for hours. Body after body, the work didn’t seem to stop, sweat began to bead upon your forehead.

“Here.” The man sharing the truck with you held out a handkerchief. Despite his semi-dirty appearance, the rag was decently clean. You took his peace offering, and gave him a nod, and wiped your forehead with it, allowing you to feel much cleaner than before. You held it back out for him to take, but he shook his head.

“Keep it.” Again, you nodded. But a voice in your head told you to thank him properly, you were quiet, but you weren’t a bitch.

“Thank you.” Now it was his turn to nod at you, and you both continued your work. But this time, after maybe a few minutes, you decided to talk to him again. You just wanted to be polite, is all.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” You internally scoffed, working for over a few hours and you barely got to even greet one another.

“Joel. You as well.” You gave him a small smile while lunging the body into the flames. He gave you a look for a second, before sharing the sentiment, just barely.

“For such a small girl, you’re doing such a difficult job.”

“Well, we all have our strengths. I just happen to be blessed with a dad that made me do push ups at age four.” You let out a small giggle, to which he gave you a chuckle.

“Really? Well I guess those paid off, you’re doing better than my last partner.” You let out another small laugh, followed by a meek ‘thank you.’ A booming voice had let you know that the job was done, which meant you had to go collect your ration cards. Wiping your hands on your jeans, you walked over to the line of people. Joel had followed you on your tail.

“Got any plans tonight?” Joel stood right next to you in line, you felt so small compared to him. You awkwardly shook your head no, looking right into his eyes.

“Just another day of work and sleep.” He hummed at this, and you felt the tension in the air in the silent minutes you waited. Receiving your ration cards, you finally trailed back to your so-called home. You decided you needed some food in your stomach, so you trailed around the market, hoping for something to catch your eye.

“Thought you didn’t have any plans.” A deep voice came from your left, and your eyes trailed up the large man.

“Got hungry. Sorry.”

“Don't apologize.” Nodding at him, you continued to look around for food, and you finally decided. Joel was still at your side, it was slightly creepy, the way he just peered at you. You had assumed a man like him probably had a wife, but now, not so much.

“Can I help you with anything?” You tried to make that sound as polite as possible, not wanting to hurt the sweet yet slightly scary man. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself.

“No.” And with that, he turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction. You were confused, nevertheless you still tracked your way home, you just wanted some calmness before you slept. Tommorows another day.

--------

You got as much sleep as one could in these conditions, but yet, you felt unnerved by some unforeseen force. You brushed it off, you blamed it on just missing life before it all. Sighing, you began your routine once more. This time, however, you took notice of Joel’s handkerchief he had given you. You smiled a bit, before placing it around your head as you would a sweatband. You felt a small semblance of normality, maybe even a little bit more confidence. You shrugged at your reflection, and walked out into the world once more. You took no more than a few steps before you saw a familiar face. Despite your brain saying no, you decided, why not give people another chance?

“Hi Joel. Funny seeing you.” You said, walking up next to him.

“Likewise. Like the hair thing going on.” He pointed to your makeshift headband, to which you gave a small grin.

“I have you to thank for this.” As you reached job assignments, you engaged in more small talk. You mostly talked about how life treated you currently, and that subject dried up quickly. After receiving the same job assignment, you both walked to the site once more.

“So, any friends worth chatting about.” He was such an old guy, you still appreciated the sentiment with trying to stay “hip.”

“Ah. No, sadly. Too many people fucked me over, friends are a luxury in this life.” Your arms lugged over the body into the pit.

“Oh trust me, I know all about that. But you’re so young, you should be making experiences, lord knows I needed those in my youth.” You let out a small ‘ha,’ amused by his words.

“I wish it was that easy. But I kind of enjoy the quiet life of being a loner. Having no friends is too peaceful to give up.” Another dropped body.

“That's not completely true,” You looked up to see him staring at you.

“You got one right here.” He gave you a small grin.

------

And a friend he was. For the past few weeks, he always checked up on you, asking if you slept well, you ate well, and if you were ready to work. You both got the same job assignments, and depending on the job, you both talked throughout the entire shift. Finally happy to have a genuine friend, someone who was scary yet kind in moments. His stoic face brought a shiver down your spine, but it seemed like he always had a small smile while talking to you. Your friendship lasted within the work days, as you both parted ways after your shift was over, thankfully for you. You enjoyed your peace, which he gladly understood, though not today.

“Hey, Y/N?” You looked at him, mid drink of your canteen or whatever, you nodded in acknowledgement.

“Wanna come over tonight?” Simple and blunt, no offer of dinner, cigarettes or whatever moonshine brew people made these days. Just a simple offer to hang out. You smiled, it felt real, it made you trust him just a little bit more.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” What was one night with a friend instead of rotting in your room. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

-----

Work was over as quick as it began, allowing you and Joel to walk to his home before the sun had set. He led the way, talking of ‘business’ being spewed, but you didn’t really pay mind to it.

“Well. Home sweet home.” You took in the room around you. It was nothing special. Similar to yours, but slightly bigger and more lived in. It felt good to have a little change in your life.

“Nice.” The air smelt of him, manly and comforting. He sat you down on the edge of his bed, despite the table in the corner, but you assumed he wanted to sit on something soft after a long day of work. He sat next to you.

“You know, it surprised me when you said you didn’t have friends, surely someone as beautiful as you would have made a couple peers.” You froze at the word ‘beautiful.’ He had never complimented your looks before, and you didn’t know whether to blush or cringe, but you remembered this man had more than twenty years on you, surely he meant it in a way you would call a stranger pretty.

“Well, I did have a few. They just didn’t turn out well.”

“How so?” He questioned, moving slightly closer.

“Well, I had joined a group of people around my age, all super chill but seemed more interested in spending all their ration cards on pills and cigs,” His eyes flashed away for a second, but turned back to you “One day two girls invited me to a hang out session between all of us, but when I approached the meeting spot, they jumped me. Stole everything I had on my person, including a necklace that my father gave me. Gave me a black eye and a busted lip. Fought like hell tho, it wasn't fair they had a knife.” You gave a small chuckle, thinking about the whole ordeal again. A few moments of silence lingered in the air.

“I’m. I’m sorry for prying.” You shook your hands at him, face panicked.

“No, no, no! Sorry, I got all deep for no reason. Don’t apologize.” He gave you a look, another look like he wanted to say so much, but he didn’t. He let the room stay silent before putting his hand on your thigh.

“I’m sorry. Just know I would never treat you like that, sweetheart.” His thumb slowly rubbed against your thigh, your eyes nervously staring at him. He quickly removed his hand and began talking about the fights he used to get in ‘at his youth’ which didn’t fail to make you laugh. Despite the age gap between you two, you felt so comfortable in talking to him like a gossiping girl with her girlfriends.

-----

Hours had passed, the laughter of both of yours filling the room. Your life was depressing, but Joel managed to be a small glimmer in your dark life. You looked outside, it was pitch black now, which made a realization dawn upon you.

“Oh no. It’s past curfew.” A quick check at a wall clock confirmed this, which made you groan.

“Ah, I’m so sorry. I should’ve reminded you.” He patted your back as you hunched over, your hands covering your cheeks.

“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve been more responsible and kept track. I don’t suppose I could trouble you to sleep here?” You glanced up at him, his arm still around you, rubbing circles into your back.

“Of course, I wouldn’t just let you go back out there to fend for yourself.” You smiled at his kindness.

“Do you want to change? Or- Uh. I think I have a t-shirt in here somewhere…” He shot up from his spot on the bed to rummage around his drawers, and he pulled out a tee, perfect size for him, large for you. You thanked him and you walked to the bathroom to change.

You realized the shirt went down past your thighs, which meant pants weren’t necessary. I mean, you didn’t think it was so wrong to just wear panties under the shirt. What did he expect, giving you nothing but a shirt? It was like a night gown at this point, so you didn’t mind. You folded your clothing and walked back into his bedroom. He looked at you with a small change in his expression, his eyes slightly wider.

“I’ll um, set up the floor for me.” He began to move a blanket off the bed. You shook your head at him.

“No, Joel! You’ve already allowed me to sleep over, I can’t make you sleep on the floor in your own home. I’ll take the floor.”

“I can’t do that to a lady, it’s no trouble at all sweetie.” You stood your ground and refused to let him take a pillow from his bed.

“Well I guess we’ll share the bed.” He said, as a matter of fact. You didn’t really think this through, but you nodded, you needed the warmth anyways. It was late and the air was crisp, even inside. You gulped as you settled into bed, Joel leaving to go change in the bathroom as well. Your eyes nervously darted around the room when he came out wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants, no shirt at all. Despite being much older, he was still very fit and toned. It made your cheeks hot at how well he looked. But you shook your head, he was just a friend. A sweet friend. You can’t think of him like that.

“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” You were so in your head that you barely realized he had already gotten under the sheets next to you, inches away from each other's bodies. You nodded and looked at him, his face barely lit by the small light coming from the outside, his usually sharp features became much softer in the dim lighting.

“Goodnight Joel, thank you again.” Your voice was barely a whisper, your body snuggling under the warm sheets, shifting to face away from him. Your eyes began to feel heavy as you drifted off to dreamland, your mind going blank.

------

Your eyes shot open, it was still dark in the room however, meaning dawn had not come yet. Your mouth dry and your body heavy, you felt very off, but nothing that would awaken you from your slumber, what made you wake-

“Oh fuck…” You heard a quiet yet deep groan behind you, right behind your head. You froze, unsure whether to move or not. It only took a few seconds to realize the warmth near your pussy, how had you not felt it earlier?! Your eyes were wide as you felt a warm length press between the fat of your thighs, back and forth in a slow thrusting movement. He was fucking your thighs.

“Mmmmm fuck.” Another groan, this time he seemed to try and quiet himself down, his cock still being pushed between your legs, the occasional shock went through your body as you felt him rub against your pussy. You were unsure what to do about this, you definitely couldn’t just fall back asleep, and you weren’t sure how to deal with the awkwardness of moving away from him. You kept as still as you could, trying to keep your breathing regulated.

His hands suddenly snaked his way to your hips, a firm grip was attached to them as he thrusted between your thighs much harder. He once again groaned, but this time it was followed by small whimpers, a likely attempt to keep himself quiet. You then felt hairs poking your neck, his stubble rubbing against you as he buried his face into the nape of your neck. He had to have known you were awake at this point, his cock was rubbing against you at a much faster pace now. You had no idea what to do, so you just swallowed your nervousness and went with your gut.

“J-Joel? What are you doing?” He froze at your words, immediately stopping his thrusts against you. You heard an audible gulp, his warm hands not moving an inch however. He said nothing, for a few minutes or seconds, you couldn’t tell, the awkward feeling making time stop almost. As you were about to shift away, he grabbed your shoulder and pressed you down, your back bare on the mattress. He was hovering over you now, you could see the desperation in his eyes, his chest moving up and down with his heavy breathing. You didn’t know what to do, you just stared at him with glossy eyes. The tension was broken by his sudden movements to place a rough kiss upon your lips. His tongue slipped in as your mouth was wide open from shock, his hands cupping your cheek. The heat you felt coming off him was like no other, and his tongue roughly moved around yours, a small whimper being moaned out by you, due to the man handling.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t get enough of you…” He pulled away momentarily to begin kissing upon your neck, your eyes rolling back.

“Joel… S-stop…” You moaned out, your hands pushing against his bare chest.

“You don’t mean that sweetheart.” He said, matter of factly, his deep voice making your knees weak. You shook your head, but his tongue working against your neck made you so vulnerable, you couldn’t resist him.

“J-Joel, no, please. We can’t- I can’t.” You begged against him, but he ignored you and continued to grope your body while licking upon your neck. You felt so hot, his hands were so large against your body, you wanted to resist but your body couldn’t. He sat up, his whole body on display for you, and as your eyes trailed down his toned body, you couldn’t help but notice the large bulge in his sweatpants.

“See what you do to me sweetheart? This is all because of you.” His large hands moved it over the pants, making you whimper, the sheer size of it was eye widening. He pulled the pants slightly down, revealing it in all its glory. It bounced up, and it began to leak precum as it twitched.

“Come here.” He pulled your leg, allowing them to be around his own, his cock lined over your pussy, the size of it reaching past your belly button, you gulped. He slapped it a few times over your lower belly, which made you whimper. He slowly pulled down your panties, throwing it to the side once they were off.

“You’re so fucking cute. You don’t know how long I wanted to have this, baby.” His voice was filled with desperation, and he held your hips as he positioned himself at the entrance. He slowly pushed himself in, the tightness gripping him, pain surging through you.

“W-wait. Joel-” He suddenly pushed into you all at once, a loud scream being let through you, to which he quickly covered your mouth with his hand. He held your waist and lifted you up, forcing you to slump over his chest. You whimpered under his hand, the pain of his cock made you feel like you were being ripped open. He suddenly began to bounce you on him, muffled moans and pained groans of yours filling his ears. He was so strong, lifting up your body weight with one hand, allowing your pussy to engulf his cock with such a grip. His throat was letting out groans, his eyes so focused on your tits bouncing through the t-shirt.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” You nodded, your eyes lidded as he slowly began to move his hand away from your lips, a trail of drool following it.

“That’s it. Take it baby.” Both his hands were now guiding you against his length, making you moan into the cold room, pleasure overcoming the pain. You felt euphoric, you haven’t had pleasure like this in so long– maybe even ever. His arms began to snake around you, wrapping around your whole body as he basically hugged you, allowing him to better thrust you into his cock. He pushed you up and down faster and faster– until you could barely take it.

“Joel. J-Joel! Slow down a bit please-” You let out a loud moan, he kept squeezing you against his chest as he thrust into you, he then pushed you on the sheets and kept you in his embrace.

“Sorry love, I just can’t get enough of you. I fuckin’ love the way you feel around me.” He breathed into your neck as he jackhammered you, the bed creaking with the harsh movement of his hips. The mixture of both your moans, he definitely wasn’t afraid to show how much you made him lose control, his hands squeezing you close to his chest, your eyes staring into each other.

“I love you so fucking much sweetheart.” You were shocked, but the build up of pleasure was too much for your brain to handle, you didn’t even give another thought to your next words.

“I love you too Joel.” You said between moans and deep breaths– it wasn’t long before you felt so close to the edge. You muttered small ‘fuck’s and ‘i love you’s as you came around him, your moans being muffled by his lips on yours, his hips suddenly stopping as he pulled out and came on your stomach. He groaned as each drop of cum left his cock, the constant twitching aligning with his soft groans. You opened your eyes as both of your orgasms had gone, his eyes slowly opening as well, his lips slowly leaving yours. You both stayed in this position, his body draped over yours, eyes staring at one other with so much love.

After a few minutes of this, he leaned over to pick up a small rag to wipe your stomach. You let out a giggle, the feeling of it rubbing against it was very ticklish. He kept looking at you, with that look on his face that he gave you when he wanted to say something. You decided to break the ice.

“Something on your mind Joel?” You sat up and leaned your head against his sweaty chest.

“Did. Did you really mean what you said? You know…” He was nervous, you wanted to laugh a little. How could a man who killed people and looked like he hated the world, be so nervous around someone like you. You nodded your head.

“Of course Joel.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #dark! joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

2K notes · View notes

charlotteking23 · 7 months ago

Note

Would you be able/willing to write an Eric Coulter x reader soulmate au where you feel a dulled version of your soulmate’s pain (more of an awareness of there being pain, and knowing where that pain is then actual pain) after you meet them for the first time, and the way that Eric figures out that the reader is his soulmate is because she suffers from chronic migraines and one day she’s missing from training and he finds her curled into the foetal position on the bathroom floor trying to keep still so the room stops spinning long enough for her to stand up? Maybe he takes her to the infirmary or maybe he doesn’t, but the entire time she’s like that he has maybe the worst headache he’s had in his entire life and he knows it’s nothing compared to what she deals with almost everyday.

My Pain

Eric Coulter x Reader soulmate au

I lay curled up in bed hearing the snores and the eerie quietness of the dauntless dorm. I looked around to see everyone asleep but me. This damn headache kept me awake the whole night.

I try to fall asleep squeezing my eyes shut as hard as possible but to no avail. I hear loud footsteps approaching the dorm, knowing it's Four here to wake us up. I silently got out of bed, quickly changing my shirt and putting on my shoes since I decided to sleep in my sweats.

The migraine was still killing me, I wondered if my soulmate could feel the amount of pain I was feeling, or if he was able to get any sleep?

I walked down towards the dauntless cafeteria, hoping I still had an appetite. As I approached, I saw Uriah already awake eating cake. I sat on the bench across from Uriah taking a piece of bread.

"Why are you eating cake at 7 in the morning?" I said with a teasing smile. "Why not? It's delicious" Uriah replied stuffing the rest of the cake in his mouth.

I quietly giggle under my breath. "Are you not hungry, You Usually finish like 5 pieces of bread", Uriah said with a concerned look. "Yeah I'm fine, just a migraine," I said with a fake smile but Uriah saw right through that.

A booming voice interrupted me and Uriah's conversation, "Initiates hurry up, you have two minutes to get to the gym". I look to find Eric standing there with all his glory. He looked out of place among the dauntless maybe it was his emotionless face or his bright blue eyes. But that didn't matter, all I felt was this throbbing migraine, How does one even get a migraine.

I quickly got up rushing towards the gym.

Four told us to run 10 laps, I started running but it kept feeling worse and worse. My head was pounding because of the immense pain, and I felt as if I wanted to puke. We finally finished and by that I mean I was the last one done. Immediately I fell on the floor, trying to regain my breath from the run.

Hearing footsteps, I look up to meet those blue eyes that haunt me. "That was pathetic", Eric said glaring at me as if I was dirt on his shoe. "What," I said getting up from the floor and glaring back at him ignoring the pain I was feeling. " what makes you think you can get into Dauntless if you can barely run 10 laps, He said as if running 10 laps around the compound was the easiest thing to do. Thankfully before I could reply, Four told us to partner up and fake fight. I left feeling Eric's eyes gapping through my head.

I was partnered with Tris, she was decent. I felt so dizzy feeling like I could pass out any minute. I left Tris telling four I had to use the restrooms. I made it in the restrooms splashing some water on my face to wake me up. I sat on the bathroom floor in the foetal position trying to keep still so the room stopped spinning long enough for me to stand up. I sat there for what felt like forever not having the strength to return to training.

Eric P.O.V

Where is she? it's already been half an hour, I said rubbing my hand over my chin and looking for Y/N. I don't know, she said she needed to use the restroom, Four said not even glancing at me but only focusing on that stiff. I huff walking out of the gym to the restrooms, Ever since last night I have been feeling some headache pain but it's been feeling worse recently. I hope she didn't skip if she knows what is best for her.

I expected to see an empty restroom but saw Y/N curled on the floor, crying. Hey, are you okay? I was trying to approach her but didn't know what to say. I am not good at comforting people at all. I gently pick her up bridal style, carrying her to my apartment. I approach my apartment opening the door with my keys.

It was bigger than most apartments because I was a leader. it was spacious with a living room and a bookshelf near my desk. I walked towards my bedroom gently laying her on my bed since she was asleep.

I could she didn't get any sleep because her eye bags and her nose looked so red because of the crying. She looked so peaceful but I know in reality she was hurting. I waited for a couple of hours until she woke up, Training for today was already over.

Y/n P.O.V

I woke feeling well rested, the covers were so soft it felt like silk, It was so warm and I didn't want to ever leave. If I didn't realize this was not the dorm but someone's apartment.

I carefully slid off the bed checking if my clothes were still on. I tiptoed towards what seemed to be the living room but who was there surprised me. "Eric", I whispered his head immediately looking toward me. "how are you feeling? I made some tea if you wanted some, He said but all I could was nod yes. He pats the seat next to him on the couch, and I quickly sat next to him. I waited for him to speak but he just kept looking at me with these different emotions, it felt overwhelming to look in his eyes.

" what happened and why am I in your apartment?", I said trying to recall what had happened. Eric's voice interrupted my thought, "I found you laying on the bathroom floor asleep so I carried you here because they were full in the infirmary." "Thank you, Eric". I felt grateful he had helped me and that my migraine felt less intense than before.

"What happened, why were you on the floor?" Eric began to stay seeing how curious to know what made me pass out. "I had a migraine since last night and It got worse throughout the day". I replied, expecting Eric to kick me out but instead, I heard him whisper last night over and over as if trying to solve a mystery.

"Y/N, I think I am your soulmate", He said putting his hand through his hair. Okay, that wasn't what I was expecting him to say. "what, are you sure?" I said not believing him. You said you got your migraine last night well so did I and it felt worse today, especially when you passed out. And I know it sounds cliche but when I held you I felt sparks.

"Here I will prove it." This man decided to punch himself in the face to prove he was my soulmate. That's kinda sweet but stupid but still sweet. "Owe, Okay I believe you but please don't punch yourself on purpose again", I said as I rubbed my cheek angrily with a pout on my lips.

"I'm happy I found my soulmate, even if it is the scary leader", I said with a teasing grin I probably look stupid right now but I didn't care I was just happy I found my soulmate and didn't have to die lonely. "I am happy my soulmate is someone I tolerate", Eric said smiling. It was my first time seeing him smile knowing it wouldn't be the last.

#eric coulter #dauntless #divergent #eric divergent #erudite #eric coulter imagine #eric coulter imagines #eric coulter fanfiction #eric coulter oneshots #eric coulter x reader #amity #abnegation #candor #fem reader #eric coulter x y/n #y/n #x reader

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illubean · 2 months ago

Note

hihi ^^! may i please request touch-starved akechi (tdlosk) &/or kageyama (haikyuu) hcs?

TouchStarved!Kageyama

Characters: Tobio Kageyama Type: Headcanons, Gn!Reader

chose Kageyma for this one cus i lwky don't know how to write for Akechi im sry >.<

Warnings: none

this kid...he's so emotionally constipated

he thinks aggressively shoving money into the vending machine before you then banging on it when your item gets stuck is rizz

if he's this clueless to these kinds of things just imagine how clueless he is when you guys get together and get. to the physical touch stage of your relationship

he was already stiff and awkward, not knowing how to express his emotions properly

so whenever it comes to physical affection (or any type of affection for that matter..) you have to be the one to initiate it most times

his face blooms a deep shade of red every time you sneak up behind him and give him a hug, its even worse if you do it in front of others

one time you got him after practice and he damn near passed out cus of embarrassment, tsukki making fun of him nearby was NOT helping (dw bae he's just mad cus single)

you have to take things slow with him, if you go to fast he might just overheat and die

he might get defensive and snatch his hand away from you or wiggle away from your embrace if you show him any sudden physical affection especially in public

but once he's gotten more comfortable he mayyyyyybbbeeeeee will hold your pinky in the halls

not hand, only pinky

hand is too much for now..

do not kiss him in public he will fr pass out

even in private he's on the verge of doing so

people think Kageyama is so mean and emotionless and arrogant but deep down he really is just a miss-understood softie whos just as awkward, anxious and shy as your average teenage boy

the first time he ever worked up the courage to hug you was moments before a game, so he was sure he could run away immediately after doing so

and when he kissed your cheek for the first time it was more or less the same

he gave you a quick peck before speeding down the hall (he may or may not have ended up tripping/stumbling over his own feet because he's so flustered)

pls warn him before you touch him

#kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #haikyuu kageyama #karasuno #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq x you #hq x gender neutral reader #hq fluff #hq kageyama

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slut4thebroken · 1 year ago

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 6

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Dr. Crane wants to make some changes to your previous arrangement.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, hickeys, grinding, riding, praise, degradation, crying (but in a hot way), consensual sex, cockwarming?, he’s a simp lowkey, but he’s doing his best to hide it.

Words | 3k

Notes | I hope y’all enjoy! I’m doing my best to keep it consistent with how his character would act but it’s definitely a challenge lol

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 5

True to his word, he did return the next day with a few things. He stopped by your cell, rather than having someone bring you to him. When he handed you the bag, you eagerly took it and sat down on your bed to look through it. A sketch pad, multiple pencils- some colored- and two books that you haven’t heard of.

“I hope it is satisfactory.” He said, emotionless as ever.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” You beamed at him and he gave you a stiff nod, awkwardly looking everywhere but your eyes.

“Would you like anything else?”

“This is plenty.” You lied, not wanting to abuse his kindness.

“Okay. Bring that whenever you come to my office just in case you need something to do.” He gestured to the bag in your lap and you nodded. “Shall we?” You weren’t sure why he was asking, but even with the items he gave you, having only a little decent human interaction is not enough so you agreed eagerly.

“Do you have something planned?” You asked as you walked next to him, bag in hand.

“Not exactly. I just have some questions.” That’s all? He’s just going to ask you things? When you arrived, you sat down across from him, waiting for his questions.

“Are you eating?” He asked suddenly.

“Uh- yes? It’s hard to, though. The food is… not what I’m used to.” You did your best to say ‘the food here tastes like shit’ without actually saying that.

“And that is preventing you from eating even though you must be hungry?” His tone was clinical… neutral.

“I’ve gotten used to the feeling by now.” You shrugged and he hummed in acknowledgment.

“From now on I think it would be best if you ate lunch with me, in my office.”

“What?” You choked out, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You are of no use to me this malnourished.” Is it really that obvious? You’ve only been here a couple weeks… “So I will bring you something and you will eat with me.” He said simply, as if his words didn’t have the impact that they do. He wants to not only bring you food, but eat with you every day too?

“You can refuse, though I would highly frown upon that, given your current state of health.”

“No, I- I’ll eat in here. Please.” The thought of actual food was already making your stomach roar to life.

“Good. Starting tomorrow then.”

“Okay. Was there anything else?”

“When you offered your assistance, was that to satiate boredom or were you being genuine?” He asked casually.

“Both. Why?”

“It might be nice to have someone to help with all of the paperwork so I can spend my time on more important tasks.” It wasn’t lost on you the way he phrased it as a statement, rather than him just asking for your help.

“What would you have me do?”

“To start? Copying my notes onto forms, scheduling appointments, things like that.” While it didn’t sound like the most exciting job in the world, it seemed better than your current routine.

“Sure.” He almost seemed caught off guard by your answer. “During lunch? Or would I do it another time?”

“You need to eat so, no, not during lunch. It will vary each day so I do not have a specific answer.”

“Okay.”

“Have you thought about my other offer at all?” You completely forgot about that to be honest. Which he seemed to be able to read from your expression. “That’s alright. You can think about it now if you want and I can answer any questions you have.”

“Okay… I do have questions.” He motioned for you to continue so you did. “What exactly would I be doing?”

“Sometimes administering the toxin yourself, sometimes writing down my thoughts. Depends on the day.” He shrugged.

“Why do you want me to do this?”

“There’s no catch, if that’s what you’re asking.” He said coyly— trying to deflect.

“If there’s no catch, then why?” He let out a heavy sigh and looked away from you as he thought.

“Normally when a patient outgrows their… usefulness… Well, you saw the state of some of them down stairs. And as of right now, your fears are trivial. Phobias of a person or an object are common, it’s not something I need to use you for.”

“So instead of giving me enough toxin to drive me mad, you’d rather I help you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why can’t you let me go? If I’m not useful to you anymore.”

“Do you want me to?” That made you falter.

“I… I don’t want to leave you, I just want to leave here. I miss my bed, I miss real food and comfortable clothes.”

“You miss that… more than you would miss me. Is what you’re saying.” He almost sounded offended.

“No, I just- I want to help you, but I can’t stay here forever. I’m miserable.” He looked down to the desk at your words.

“And how do I know this isn’t just some plot to get out of here?” He said, looking at you again.

“You’re the one with the psych degree, you tell me.” He narrowed his eyes as he examined you and you waited patiently for him to find that you’re telling the truth. He hummed in acknowledgment, seemingly not finding the right words.

“Why do you want me to stay so bad? You said it yourself, I’m not useful to you anymore.” You asked softly, hesitantly.

“Just because I don’t need to study you in my experiments, doesn’t mean you can’t help me with them.”

“That’s the only reason?” You could already feel yourself deflating from his words.

“What other reason would there be?” You bit your lip and looked at your lap.

“Nothing.” You smiled dryly, looking back up at him. “Look, as far as I’m concerned, whatever I do is up to you. You’re not going to let me go and you don’t want to use me in your experiments so there aren’t many options.” You shrugged, not wanting to draw this conversation out so you can avoid any other tactless remarks.

“Fine. Regarding your… treatment, that will be up to you.” Did he not want to do that anymore? You don’t want to say you want to keep doing it if he doesn’t actually want to.

“You don’t want to anymore?” You tried to sound normal and not desperate or sad.

“Do I want to keep raping you? No, I don’t.”

“Oh,” You didn’t mean it like that. Honestly it’s hard to think of it as that now. “Okay, then… we can stop.” You said quietly.

“Is that what you want? Or are you just saying that because of what I said.”

“It doesn't matter what I want if you don’t want to. That defeats the whole purpose of discontinuing the rape.” He eyed you curiously before responding.

“If it wasn’t rape, would you want to continue?” He asked, looking at you through slightly narrowed eyes.

“I mean… it’s- I don’t know… I haven’t really thought about it.” You shrugged, trying to play it off.

“It’s a yes or no question.” He said teasingly with a glint in his eyes.

“You answer first then!” You said defensively.

“Would I want to keep fucking you consensually? Yes.” He said lowly, making your breath hitch.

“Okay well maybe I want that too.” You said, once again, defensively. When he didn’t respond and let you stew in your answer, you rambled out more. “And by maybe, I mean more than maybe.” You watched his lips turn up into a smirk at your rambling. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like- like that!” You exclaimed, pointing at the growing smirk on his lips.

“Would you want me to consensually fuck you right now?” He asked casually, making your eyes widen. You tried to stammer out a response, but he granted you mercy by continuing. “Come here.” As he took off his glasses and set them on the desk, you stood and slowly walked over to him, waiting awkwardly once you were by his side. He grabbed your hips and rolled his chair back a little, giving you room to straddle his thighs. Once you were settled, he placed his hands on the arms on the chair, making you frown.

“It’s only consensual if you actually give consent. So far you haven’t.” He explained, raising his brows as he waited for your response.

“Yes. Fine- I want it.” You muttered, embarrassed.

“What was that?”

“I want you to fuck me. Please.” You weren’t able to maintain eye contact as you spoke. His hands grasped your hips, pulling you forward to grind against his bulge, making your breath hitch. You lifted your hands to place on his shoulders, but froze, not sure if it’s okay. He seemed to sense your hesitation because he gave you a nod to your silent question. As your hips maintained the movement without him needing to guide you, your gaze drifted down to his lips. You’ve never seen a man with such pink, soft looking lips. You watched them curl up into a small smile, making your eyes snap up to his.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He asked, eyes fluttering down to your lips.

“Yes please.” You whispered, subconsciously leaning closer. It hasn’t even been very long but you already miss the feeling of his lips pressed to yours— the way he eagerly swallowed down your sounds.

He leaned up a little and captured your lips in a kiss, making your hips stutter. This kiss was less desperate and hungry than the previous one you shared. Instead, it was slower, more gentle. He removed one hand from your hip and placed it over your covered heat, rubbing your clit through the layers of clothing, making you gasp into the kiss.

“Please.” You whined against his lips as he continued to tease you. That seemed to be enough for him though and he pulled away from the kiss to free his cock before pulling your pants and underwear down just enough to free your drooling cunt.

“Tell me what you want.” He prompted, stroking his length to full hardness.

“Please fuck me.” You whined, hips squirming, trying to maneuver yourself onto him. He relented, lifting your hips enough to line his cock up with your entrance, then pulling you all the way down. You let out a choked moan, brows furrowing and eyes slightly watering from the stretch— maybe I should’ve let him tease me a little more, you thought, trying not to wince. He seemed to pick up on that though and he let you remain buried on his cock, not moving yet.

“Relax.” He said softly as his hands settled on your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.

“I- I’m sorry.” You whispered, willing your body to just hurry up and adjust. “I’m okay… You can move.” You said, holding your breath, preparing yourself for the stinging pain to worsen. Instead, his hand moved to your clit, rubbing slowly to build your arousal. When your walls fluttered around his length, the only indication he gave that he was affected was a slight hitch of his breath.

His other hand wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled you into another kiss. Your hips started rocking slowly and he pulled back from the brief kiss to remove your shirt. He leaned down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, not even teasing you first, and you gasped as your hands found their way to his hair again. The hand that wasn’t on your clit, moved to your other nipple, lightly pinching and rolling it between his fingers. After another few seconds, he pulled back with a wet pop, then switched to the other one. The stinging in your core was replaced with a dull ache by the time he had finished.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, hips rocking greedily. He had to look in your eyes to be sure, but once he was satisfied with your honesty, he moved both hands to your hips again and slowly lifted you before letting you drop back down with a startled moan. He continued the slow, teasing pace, you started to whine impatiently as you pulled on his hair. You could tell that he was having an internal battle of whether or not he should fuck you like you wanted or punish you for being greedy and you did your best to hide your smirk when he chose the former.

He grabbed your hips tighter and planted his feet to start thrusting up into you, but he only lasted a few seconds before his chair started rolling back. He cursed under his breath and stood up, making you grab onto his shoulders as you let out a startled sound. Holding you up by your thighs, he walked you over to the couch, then sat down and almost immediately started bucking up into you.

“Shit-“ You said through a breath at the suddenness of his thrusts, but he paid no mind to it. He just held you still and fucked you with an intensity you didn’t know he had.

“That’s it- just take it. Just be a good girl, sit nice and still, and fucking take it.” He growled, making you whimper.

“Please.” You cried, holding onto his shoulders so tight that your fingers ached.

“Tell me what you’re begging for.” He said lowly, but his voice was starting to get breathier.

“I- I don’t know… please!”

“Poor thing. I fuck you for just a few minutes and already you’re too cock drunk to even know what you’re begging for.” He cooed mockingly, making you whine and clench around him.

“Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, eyes filling with tears of desperation.

“I wonder how long I’ll have to fuck you for until you’re permanently cock drunk.” You sobbed out a moan at that, feeling the knot of arousal in your stomach grow even tighter.

“Please!”

“You want that? You want me to turn you into a cock drunk whore? Just a little sleeve for my dick?” You let out an embarrassed whine, feeling your cheeks heat up as you nodded.

“I bet you do.” He chuckled breathlessly. “I bet you just want to be turned into a proper fuck toy— you don’t need to think, you just need to be fucked and bred.” You let out a choked sob, his words feeding into your kink enough that the fear was at the back of your mind. You nodded again with a whimper.

“If you want something, you need to ask for it. And quickly too, otherwise I’ll have to pull out. You don’t want it to go to waste do you?” He frowned, making you mirror the expression.

“No… Want your- I want your come, please…” You whimpered, eyes burning with tears of humiliation.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up? Say it.”

“I- I want you to- to fill me up... Please, Dr. Crane.” When the tears started falling, he removed one hand from your hip to wipe them away as he shushed you.

“There’s no need to cry. I’ll give you what you want.” He said softly and you sniffled in response.

“Thank you.” You whimpered.

“Ready?” You couldn’t respond, not as his grip became painfully tight on your hips and he fucked even rougher. All you could do was nod. “Rub your clit.” He said through a breath. You moved a shaky hand between your legs, rubbing fast circles over your clit as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. He let out a low groan as your walls spasmed around his length from the pleasure, then forced you all the way down, the tip bulging your stomach a little. You let out a choked moan, feeling his cock twitching inside as hot come painted your walls. Through your moans you could hear him groaning and panting, eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his orgasm. When he stilled, you whimpered painfully, feeling close to your own orgasm.

“Please.” You cried, hips trying to rock against him even though he was mostly holding you still. “Please, I wanna come.” You whined, eyes filling with tears once again.

“Go ahead.” He said simply, removing his hands from your body and settling into the couch with a small smirk.

“But I want your help.” You frowned.

“I’m giving you my cock. Would you rather I let you hump my leg instead?” You let out a long, needy whine as you pouted.

“…No.” You muttered.

“Then go ahead.” You whined, but started rocking your hips faster, continuing to rub your clit. “That’s it. Put on a good show for me.” The emotion in his voice was new to you— even if it was just smug amusement. You moved your hips faster, rubbed your clit harder, eagerly chasing your orgasm.

“Good girl.” He was teasing you, mocking you, but you still let out a strangled moan from the praise. Your orgasm crashed over you suddenly, making your whole body tremble as you rode it out, sobbing out moans from the pleasure. When your sounds died down and your body stopped shaking, you sagged in exhaustion, hissing as his cock went even deeper in your now sensitive cunt. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked up at him through your lashes, sleepiness clear in your features.

“Good girl. Did that feel good?” He said softly and you nodded, not even attempting to talk. You wanted to lean forward against his body, lay your head on his chest and let your heavy eyes fall shut. But you knew there wasn’t even a slight chance that he would react any way other than negatively. So you placed your hand on his chest, forcing yourself to stay up and not give in to the sleepiness.

“Are you tired?” He asked and your eyes fluttered open again, not even realizing you closed them.

“Yeah.” You did your best not to slur the word.

“You can rest here before returning to your room. I have quite a bit of work that needs done so I’ll be here a while.”

“Mhm.” You nodded, giving him a small smile that you swore he almost returned. When he grabbed your hips and started lifting you off his cock, you whined.

“I know.” He said quietly. Once you were sitting normally on his lap, he pulled your underwear and pants back up, then gently set you on the couch. When he stood up and walked away, you frowned, but he quickly returned, holding your shirt. He slipped it on over your arms and head, then let you lay down, resting your head on your hand as you curled up on your side.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, not able to keep your eyes open long enough to wait for a response.

Part 7

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow #exposure therapy

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