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thisonehere · 5 months ago

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The Lin Kuei boys find your diary and learn that you're in love with them

Mk Headkanons

A/n: Here you are, the winner of my recent poll. Just a little fun headcanon while I work on another request. It should be ready by Wednesday or Thursday.

Tags: MK1, Polls winner, invasion of privacy (but their hot so it's okay)

C/w: None

Bi-Han

This wasn't usually like Bi-Han, of all things the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was, invading someone's privacy wasn't one of them. Until today of course.

Today was the 4th time in a row that you were missing from your training session with him. He would've thought that being allowed to train with the Lin Kuei's very own grandmother would be considered an honor. Yet here he was, standing alone looking like a fool waiting for you.

Bi-Han does not like being stood up, especially not by you. You whom he holds in such a high regard. He has so much respect for, he is generally fond of you, he feels things for you he can't even explain. So he goes to look for you, bringing him to your room.

He enters with even knocking, you don't deserve such a thing with how many times you stood him up. When he sees you aren't here he turns to leave, still eager to find, to let you know how hurt furious he is by your actions.

But before he can make it to the door, he sees something at the corner of his eye. A book. No, not just any book. Your diary.

Bi-Han thinks such things are stupid, and a waste of time. Nonsense made for children not adults. Surely anyone who partakes in this are ridiculous...But...this is your diary, and he doesn't think your ridiculous or a child at all.

He picks it up, showing care as he holds it carefully in his hands. He inspects from front cover to the back with a perplexed curiosity. Why would anyone have this? Why would you have this? He holds you in such a high regard that he views such trivial things as beneath you. What could be so important you would need have your very thoughts and deepest darkest secrets left on paper.

He knows his brothers wouldn't hesitate to open it and read. But not him though. Because unlike them he has restraint, he has strength, he has-

Bi-Han starts flipping through the pages. There has to be something in here that explains why you've so distant and absent lately. His eyes scan each and every word like they have a sacred meaning.

He especially looks for parts where you talk about him. Surely you will speak with utmost respect for your grandmaster. Maybe you explain why you've been avoiding him too.

Eventually he finds a part where you bring him up, he completely ignores the part where you talk about his brothers and goes straight t6o part where he is involved.

He takes notice with how you talk about him. You talk about how you felt butterflies in your stomach when you were near him, the way he made your heart race, the fear you had that he'd notice you blushing, how much you loved him, you wanted to be with him until the end of all time. You then go one to say the dirtiest, the most depraved things he has ever read in his life about him.

But Bi-Han reads on. He takes note of all the nasty things you'd like him to do to you. Part of him is slightly appalled. The other is very amused.

After staring at it for a while, Bi-Han clears his throat and sits the book back to where he found it and leaves.

From that point on, you can't help but notice that Bi-Han has been staring at you whenever you were in the same room. He is noticeably more patient with you than he was before. In fact, it's almost like he's being nice to you.

He has never really thought of you in such a manner before, but now, now you have his interest.

Kuai Liang

Like his brother, Kuai is a man very respectful of other people's privacy...sort of. Kuai will respect your privacy most of the time, he'll try to at least.

Kuai had been looking for you all day, he wanted to talk to you about a very private Lin Kuei business. He also wanted to see you again, just hearing your voice made his day better. But you were just friends so he never told you about it because then that would make things weird.

Kuai gets to your door and gently knocks before he enters. He happily calls your name as he enters. When he sees that you aren't present he disappointedly turns to leave. But he catches something in the corner of his eye.

He goes to pick it up, he doesn't really know what it is at first. He's not as familiar with concpt as Bi-Han and Tomas. So he opens it and starts reading. It doesn't take him long to figure out what it is after reading the first page.

After that something clicks and he goes to put it down and leave. Or that is at least what he wants to do. He is so tempted to continue that he has to remind himself how wrong thus is.

To continue reading is wrong. It's a violation of you, one of his closest friends. Besides, he is an honorable man, he believes in duty and respect and-

Anyway, now he is sitting on your bed reading through your diary like it's the Bible. He's basically halfway through the books so he convince himself that it's far too late to turn back now.

He is specifically interested in reading what you have to say about him. So he flips ahead to a writing log where you mention him. Kuai takes a deep breath before reading, he generally hopes you like him.

You talk about how nice you think Kuai is, how cool, also hot he is. Pun intended.

It took Kuai a few seconds to process what you just said. He reads on, finding more writing logs about him and they all say similar things about how attracted you are to him. He gets one specific one where you were talking about all the things you liked about him.

Kuai was overwhelmed with all this affection you had on paper for him. At the end, you confess that you have feelings for him, that you were in love with him.

Kuai couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was on paper in front of him yet he still couldn't believe it. He sets the book back where he found it and quickly leaves your room.

The next coming days were tough for him. Whenever he looked at you, all he could think about was your words. He was still in shock, this all felt so unreal. He stares into your eyes and wonders how long you felt this way, if you still feel this way.

He wants to come up to you, tell me that he feels the same way. But that would also mean he'd have to confess about reading your diary. Would you be forgiving if he tells you? Maybe, you'll just need time to forgive.

He will just fantasize about the potential future he could have with you if everything goes. Please, Elder gods of you're listening, let things go well.

Tomas

Tomas is a sweetheart, that is known. But he is also a very nosey sweetheart. Unlike his brothers, Tomas is a very curious person. That often is much to his and others slcurgrine

He comes to your room with the hopes of being able to hang out with you. Kuai and Bi-Han were always so busy so it was often you two who hung out the most.

Tomas enjoys the time he spent with you. Bi-Han and Kuai can often be pretty intense for him to be around, so he finds comfort with being just with you.

After knocking a few times he enters, much to his disappointment you aren't here. He goes to leave hoping to find you, until he notices your diary. It caught his attention the single second he laid eyes on it. He immediately recognizes what it is, he has one himself.

The thoughts of opening and reading all your dark and dirty secrets pop into Tomas's head instantly. I can't, he thinks. How could I possibly do this to you? I would be violating your personal space. There could be something in there that is really embarrassing, or be about your deepest darkest desires, maybe even someone you might have a crush on.

Tomas tries to fight off the temptation to read it, but he fails. He carefully picks up the book and opens it. Already he feels filthy with guilt.

He begins to look through it, every page feels like a sin to read, but he couldn't stop reading. The thrill of it all kept him going to the point that he already got through almost half of the book. He laughed at your most embarrassing stories, he felt sad when you expressed any tragedy or hardship you faced, he felt overjoyed at your victories.

He felt pretty good...until you began to talk about him and his brothers. At this point he got nervous at what you could potentially think about him and his brothers, especially him. It was pretty standard things, you thought Kuai was nice, Bi-Han was a hothead, and you thought Tomas was cute...wait...

Tomas's eyes grew ten inches wide at this. What? N-No, that's all wrong he has to read it again. Cute? What do you mean cute? Cute as in nice, o-or as in attractive. Surely you meant as in kind.

He flips forward, finding another log where you talked about him. Here you go into much more detail about how you felt towards Tomas, how much you loved, the way he made useful so giddy, you just wanted to plant kisses him all over his cute little face.

Tomas, jaw on the floor and eyes wide opened to the point of almost popping out, couldn't believe what he was reading. He cheeks were turning red with blush and he was without words as he continued reading. Okay, now he really regrets reading this.

In a panicked state, Tomas throws your book somewhere and runs out of your room.

The next few days were hell for Tomas. He felt like such a horrible friend. He betrayed your trust and privacy, and now he knows that you're in love with him. He feels horrible whenever he sees and remembers what he's read, how he invaded your privacy.

As he continues, Tomas can't help but think of you differently now. He fears that he's falling in love with you now. He thinks. He doesn't know.

Gods, he just wishes he never opened that book. Now he has developed feeling for you in such a rapid pace, he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he'll just have to confess to reading your diary.

He plans too eventually, the guilt eats him up every day. He just needs to work up the courage to do so. Hopefully you won't hate him, please don't hate him.

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let-me-luve-you · 12 days ago

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Season Colds

Joe Burrow x Reader

Summary: When you wake up sick, you decide to go stay in a hotel and lie to Joe about where you are going.

Warnings: Slight angst but not a lot, Worried Joe

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: My first Joe Burrow fic!!! I've been feeling sick the last couple of days and thought of this.

Masterlist Buy me a coffee

You knew it was coming. You felt it coming. You were on the verge of being sick. You could feel how exhausted you were. You could feel that your chest was starting to tighten up. You could feel your nose starting to get congested. It happens every time the weather drastically changes. Allergies jumped started it into something worse. But you knew this was more than allergies. This was a cold.

When you woke up Wednesday morning, you felt awful. You looked around for Joe to see if he was still home, but when you locked eyes on the clock and saw that it was after 9 am, you knew he already left for training and wouldn’t be back until mid to late afternoon.

Getting up to go to the bathroom was a chore. After washing your hands when you finished your business, you decided to see if you had a fever. You quietly thanked your mom for giving you a thermometer years ago and quickly pulled it out of the cabinet. You put it under your tongue and waited as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You looked rough. The thermometer beeped and you pulled it out of your mouth to check it. 102.

Going back in the bedroom after washing and putting the thermometer up, you decided you needed to leave so Joe wouldn’t get sick. He was in the middle of season and it was already rough enough as is without adding sickness on top of it. You quickly made a reservation at The Westin for the next two nights just in case you weren’t better tomorrow. You surely hoped you were because you didn’t plan on telling Joe you were sick. He would insist you stay home so he could take care of you.

After packing a bag of just necessities and medicine, you loaded the car. You decided to call Sharon to see if she was available to clean the house today.

“Hey Y/N, what can I do for you?” Sharon asked as she answered.

“I’m sorry to call you on an off day Sharon, but is there anyway you can come in today and just wipe down counters, change the sheets on the bed, and maybe vacuum. Just a little disinfecting. I don’t feel great and I don’t want to risk Joe getting sick. And I would really prefer him not know about you coming today or telling him I’m sick.” You said.

“Oh dear. Are you okay?” She asked, concerned.

“I’m fine. Just a cold. I just don’t think Joe can afford to get sick in the middle of the season with how it’s going so I’m going to go stay in a friend’s spare room so I don’t get him sick.” You answered.

“I know he’s not going to like that, but yes. I can be there in the next 30 minutes. I will have it done before lunch.” Sharon was someone that has been in Joe’s life since he moved into this house. She has worked for him since the beginning. A few months after he moved in, Joe asked you to move in when he realized the two of you were getting serious. “What do I tell Joe if he comes home early?”

“Just tell him I asked you to come today and that you could take Thursday off. But with it being Wednesday and him having a longer practice and having press, I doubt he does. Just know I appreciate you for this Sharon. I will make sure I add to your Christmas bonus.” You added honestly.

“You don’t have to do that dear. I love the both of you dearly. I will make sure the house is good for him. If you need anything, you let me know.” Sharon said sweetly.

“Thank you Sharon.” You smiled as you hung up. We really didn’t deserve her. You quickly texted Joe before you decided to head off to the hotel near the stadium.

You at 9:46 am: Hey bub. I am going to Maks house for the night. We are going to do dinner and have a treat yo self type of day. I will see you tomorrow after practice. I love you!

You knew he wouldn’t see it for a couple of hours since he usually had a late lunch on Wednesdays. Backing out of the garage, you tried to make the drive as quick, but safely, as possible. You thought about going by the stadium on your way, but the exhaustion and headache was starting to get worse.

After a quick, early check in, you went up stairs and got into bed. You plugged your phone into the charger so it wouldn’t die if you fell asleep. You turned on the tv to a local Cincinnati sports channel and listened to them talk about the Bengals season as you fell asleep.

— — — — — —

You woke to the hotel room dark with only the tv giving light. You heard buzzing next to you and realized a phone call is what woke you. Picking up your phone as the call ended, you noticed you had multiple missed calls and texts from Joe and a couple from Makenzie.

Shit. You thought. Looking through your texts with Joe, you start from where you left your message.

JoeyBear at 12:53 pm: Sounds good babe. I hope you have fun. You deserve a relaxing day. Call me after dinner. I love you.

JoeyBear at 3:12 pm: Hey babe! Hope you are having fun. Don’t forget to call later. I have a funny story to tell you if you haven’t already seen the press conference.

JoeyBear at 5:48 pm: Mak just called and asked if I’ve talked to you today. I’m not mad you lied. I just need you to call me back.

JoeyBear at 5:55 pm: Y/N please call me back.

JoeyBear at 6:08 pm: Y/N this isn’t funny. Answer the phone.

JoeyBear at 6:21 pm: At least text me back so I know you are okay.

JoeyBear at 6:29 pm: I just checked Life360. Why are you at a hotel?

JoeyBear at 6:34 pm: If you don’t answer, I’m going to come down there and get you myself.

JoeyBear at 7:07pm: I’m on my way. Call me. Please.

“Fuck.” you whispered to yourself. You looked at the clock and saw it was 7:45pm. You slept all day. If this is what his texts are, I don’t even want to hear his voicemails. You decide to click the last one just to know what state he’s in before you call him back.

“Y/N, babe. I need you to answer the phone or call me back. Please.” He sounded worried with a hint of anger. “Mak has tried calling you and so have I. What are you doing at a hotel? You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be there shortly. Please call me back if you get this before I try calling again.”

You quickly lowered the phone. You needed to call him. As you started to click on his name when someone frantically knocked on the door.

“Y/N, let me in.” You heard Joe say through the door.

Despite being a little lightheaded from dehydration and getting up too fast, you walked as fast as you could to the door and opened it up.

“What the fuck Y/N? I’ve been worried sick.” Joe said as he stormed past you into the room.

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep and didn’t hear my phone. I just woke up.” You said as you used the wall to help guide you back to the bed. Joe finally really looked at you. He saw how pale you looked.

“Shit.” You heard him whisper. “Come here.”

Joe walked towards you and helped guide you back into the bed. You gratefully laid down and Joe covered you up before putting the back of his hand up to your forehead.

“You’re still warm. How long have you had a fever?” He asked concerned as he looked around the room for water and medicine.

“Since this morning. I took medicine before I left, but fell asleep shortly after I got here.”

“Is this why Sharon came today?” You looked at him shocked. “It’s always easy to tell when she’s been by. House smells like cleaning supplies instead of your candles. Plus I could tell the sheets were changed.”

“Wait. No. Get away. You need to leave.” You said pushing him away as he brought a water bottle to you.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you right now. You’re sick Y/N. I’m not going to leave you like this.” He said as he sat beside you and helped you sit up to take the medicine.

“I need you to leave. You can’t get sick because of me. I don’t want to make anything harder on you.” You pleaded.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll stay in the guest bedroom if you really want me to, but I’m taking you home. You should be in your bed in the safety of your own home.” He said as he stood up and started packing what little you got out of your bag. He quickly grabbed the brush you packed and brushed the bed head you had going on. He took his hoodie off and put it on you. He then put the hood up over your head.

“I need to call Mak.” You said as you remembered her texts and calls.

“I already told her I have you. Now come on, the car’s still parked out front.” He said as he kept an arm around your waste to keep you steady.

“But what about my car?” You asked genuinely.

“I’ll get Ja‘Marr to pick me up tomorrow and bring me by on our way to practice and I’ll bring it home tomorrow afternoon.” You nodded at him as you got in the elevator.

Once you got in the car and started to head home, you turned to look at Joe. He looked back at you and smiled as your eyes started to droop. He reached over and grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers.

“How did you know what room I was in?” You asked quietly.

“Helps that you put the room on my credit card.” He laughed softly. You let out a small giggle as you said oops.

“I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t want to get you sick. And now you will because you’ve been around me.” You said with a pout.

“I’ll be okay. I promise. I just want to make sure you're okay. You don’t have to run from me. I thought something seriously happened to you. I completely forgot about Life360 until it finally clicked that I should check it.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I just knew you would want to take care of me and I didn’t want you sick. The season already sucks for you. I see what you’re going through. I know you try not to bring it home with you, but I see the frustration every day. Getting sick is the last thing this team needs. They need you out there. The fans need you out there.” You said honestly.

“I get it. I do. Just know you never have to hide from me. I’m with you in sickness and in health.” He said as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

“You need to put a ring on it for that line.” You said with a laugh.

“Don’t worry. I plan to.” Joe laughed with you.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you looked at his profile. You knew every inch of Joe like the back of your hand. That never stopped you from admiring the love of your life though. But with the soft sound of your music that Joe turned on, the rumble of the road, and Joe rubbing your hand, you finally let the tiredness take you.

As Joe took the exit toward your neighborhood, he looked over at you and noticed you were asleep again. He smiled softly as he drove carefully through the streets. After a few minutes, he pulled into the garage and gently let go of your hand and turned off the car. He opened your door and carefully lifted you out of the vehicle and took you to your shared bedroom. Laying you softly on the bed and tucking you in. As he went to kiss your forehead, you turned.

“Oh Joseph Lee, I love you more than life itself.” You said with a sigh and curled into yourself.

“I love you more than anything in these universes.” He whispered and kissed your forehead. He pushed your hair out of your face and smiled down at you as he watched you sleep. He knew he was going to marry this girl one day.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fanfic #nfl imagines #nfl fanfic

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merakiui · 7 months ago

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angel/angler.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, stalking, non-con, non-consensual photography, chikan/groping (train molestation), obsession, kidnapping/captivity, drugging, violence, blood, death (or is it??), azul's insecurities and low self-esteem, azul’s not-so-subtle breeding kink, implied disordered eating, reader's height isn't described, but it's written that azul is taller note - to obsess is to hunger like an angler from the deep sea. living his entire life in pitch-black solitude, entranced by an angel's halo; his only purpose is to find the body that will become his lifeline and, one day, his cemetery.

entry 1: 18 April, 20XX.

For anonymity’s sake, I’ve chosen to write using a vague pronoun. Additionally, this diary will be a record of my thoughts so that I can keep my mind and senses intact. In my youth, I was prone to terrible fits of self-destructive rage, and as a result they suggested I write my feelings down to prevent any outbursts. I’m not very physical towards others. Rather, it was the harm I posed to myself that fostered concern.

But this space isn’t for my own views on myself. It’s about someone else.

I have a confession: I’ve fallen in love with you from the train, and I’ve been in love with you for the four months I’ve come to know you.

You wear perfectly pressed suits, heels of a modest height, tights, and pencil skirts that cut just at your knees. I want to touch you, but if I do you might stop wearing skirts altogether and then I’ll never see your legs again. I suppose trousers aren’t so unattractive. They’re appealing in their own right. Everything looks good on you, though. (Nothing would look even better.)

You work in an office building. I’m not sure which floor, but I’ll know soon enough. I wanted to follow you inside, but there’s a security guard in the lobby. He always greets you, and you always smile and chat with him. You’re a kind person, so I let this pass without incident. But I can’t lie to these pages and say it’s not troublesome when I watch his gaze linger longer than it needs to.

I’d kill him, but then they’d employ a new guard and you’d make friends with him because you’re so kind. I don’t admire kind people. Rather, I find kindness to be a double-edged blade (Is that the correct phrasing? It’s different in my hometown. We say kindness is like pufferfish—harmless until it’s provoked and then it becomes poisonous). It’s not that I look down on kind people. I just think you shouldn’t be so quick to befriend the world in its entirety.

After plenty of observation, I’ve learned that you often leave your building to get lunch by yourself. This is what you’ve eaten in the week:

Monday - A salad at a popular café. Iced tea because it was a sunny day. A tiny cheesecake for dessert. It was blueberry.

Tuesday - A wrap of some kind. Chicken? Or was it vegetarian? Sweet potato fries. Water.

Wednesday - You didn’t leave your building. Were you at work today?

Thursday - Another salad. Water. Same café. No tiny cheesecake.

Friday - You went to lunch with that guard. I only remember my irritation and so I’m afraid I can’t make note of your meal for today. He looks at you like an obsessed puppy waiting for its owner to give it attention. I want to pluck his eyes from his sockets so he’ll never look at you in that way again.

You lead a healthy lifestyle, but I can’t help wondering if you’re eating well. Did someone say something about your figure? I’ll eviscerate them for you and then they can see how much it hurts when unnecessary scrutiny is thrown around.

It’s quite late. I want to sleep, but thinking about you has my body wide-awake. I wonder if your mouth tastes like the moonlight shining in through my window. I wonder if your body is soft like mine… Of course it is. A silly, irrational thought. You’re much warmer than me. This is just a theory. I’ve yet to feel and confirm for myself. I will in the foreseeable future.

Before we part ways, I want you to know that I’m not very good at cooking. I’ve picked up a few books and hope to learn. I’m going to practice so that I can feed you better meals one day. Salads are the worst. Fried chicken is the true meal of heaven. I’m certain you would share this sentiment.

If I were to be condemned to a last meal like those serial killers on death row, I’d ask for fried chicken. Knowing you, you’re too good to kill anyone. In this hypothetical, supposing you’re a heinous criminal, your last meal would be something healthy. Do you even like those salads, or are you forcing yourself because you must? I understand calorie-counting well enough, but if there’s one thing to enjoy in life it should be food.

I suppose that makes me a hypocrite. I ought to take my own advice.

Oh. I’m starting to grip my pen with more force and the lines have become shaky. I usually break my writing utensils if my focus strays. I’ll stop here for today. Ink is a pain to clean.

AA.

The morning rush is your greatest enemy.

Jack Howl, the lobby’s security, has suggested giving you a ride on numerous occasions. “It’s part of the reason I got my license,” he explained once, “so that I can protect those who work in this building from the rush. Not like you have to accept my offer. It’s just…convenient for both of us. Again, I don’t care what you do.”

(He does. You see through his gruff surface.)

According to him, the morning and night rushes bring out the worst kinds of characters.

But isn’t that everywhere? you think as you peer out the window, watching the city come into clarity.

Like every morning, the train car is more crowded than a sardine tin. You’re used to being pressed up against other commuters, pinned to the window or between people. You’re flattered to know someone’s concerned, but nothing has happened yet. And why would it? It’s bright outside. No one would dare do something during the day. At least, not in a crowded area where anyone could see and hear.

I wonder what I should have for dinner. I still need to go shopping. My fridge is way too empty, you think, sighing. And I need to follow up with that one author. They’ve yet to get back to me about my edits. Perhaps we should meet in the office instead of through video call… And I also need to finalize that other style sheet after the last round of editing. And then another conference… There was something else. Was I scheduled to have lunch with an author? Or was that next week? I should check before—

The train shudders as it slides into the station. Someone brushes against you from behind. Their hand is pressed against the window just near your head. They steady themselves, their body so close to yours you can hear their staggered breathing.

“Ah. S-Sorry…”

It’s next week, right? I really should check once I get to my stop. This is going to eat me alive all day.

“Mhm,” you hum, waving dismissively.

The stranger standing behind you peels his hand away from the window. A sweaty palm print is left in its wake.

“We will be approaching the next stop shortly.”

Just one more and you’ll be getting off.

A pair of bright eyes blinks back at you in the reflection, watching the city just as you are.

entry 5: 22 April, 20XX.

I’m not a social person by any means. If I can avoid crowds, I usually do. An introvert’s paradise is best spent in the comfort of their own room, after all. But if you prefer outdoor dates I can become extroverted for your sake. There are lots of things I’m willing to do for your sake.

Which is why I’ve forced myself to tolerate the train. I loathe it. It’s cramped and uncomfortable. Most days I’m not even near you, and so all I can do is stare longingly from afar. I content myself with imaginary scenarios like in the books you edit. I’ve mentioned it sparsely in this diary, but you’re a brilliant editor. Most of the novels you work on aren’t exactly my taste, but there’s something to appreciate about them. Reading through them knowing your very eyes pored over these pages dozens of times before publication… I admire your work. Immense time and effort goes into all professions, especially ones that involve meticulous touches.

With this discussion of careers, you might wonder what I do for a living. I manage my own restaurant chain off-site. It must be shocking news for you to realize: your secret admirer is actually quite successful.

If I’m not able to provide an adequate life—no, more than that. If I cannot drown you in all of life’s luxuries, I should sooner throw myself on the beach and let this soft, wriggling body of mine dry out than settle for the barest of minimums. You deserve only the finest.

In fact, I have a room in my home dedicated to you. A private office in which you can write and edit in peace. It’s furnished with everything you’d ever need. I hope to gift it to you one day.

Remote work is very relaxing. (You’ll know this once you try it here.) When you’re boss, you work your own schedule. That’s why I’m able to fit our secret meetings into my weekly itinerary.

Today’s meeting was quite fortuitous. I felt like I’d won the lottery. Mostly because I was finally given the opportunity to be close to you. So close, in fact, that you didn’t even notice when I slid my phone under your skirt to take a few photos. Your undergarments are unexpectedly plain. Truthfully, I’m somewhat disappointed. I was hoping to learn your lingerie preferences. At the very least, I know your tights are sheer enough to show me the color of your panties.

I consider myself a connoisseur of many things, and I’ve done enough interior decorating in my time to become well-accustomed to color palettes. A fool would say your panties are red, but they’re actually maroon.

That same fool wouldn’t take another breath after glimpsing such a private side of you.

If you must know, my dear, I am excessively avaricious when it comes to the things I like. I have always been this way. I am a collector. A hoarder of secrets. I refuse to let others touch or take the things that belong to me, especially when they are wholly undeserving…

I’ve broken another pen. Thankfully, the mess wasn’t so extreme. Not-so-thankfully, I’ve lost my train of thought.

Ah. Right. Trains.

Today I rode the train, and I was standing right behind you. You were looking out the window, lost in your thoughts, and so you didn’t notice me. You must have seen my reflection, but I wear a mask and a hooded sweatshirt when I go outside. Perhaps it’s a touch embarrassing to admit, but I am very self-conscious of the way I look. Firstly, my eyes are too tired. I’ve read that many people are not fond of eyes with dark circles under them. Secondly, my face is average—unworthy of your love by my lofty standards. My hair never cooperates. My smiles never fit properly. My skin is too pale. My eyes are too blue and my pupils are abnormal. My weight is just a few kilograms above the average. I will work hard to bring it back down for your sake and for my own so that it won’t show. I prefer a slim waist, so I must stomach all manner of healthy foods for the weekend. What a pity… Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could eat whatever you wanted without having to worry about caloric intake and numbers on a scale?

That aside, there are times in which my glasses sit crooked on my face and it’s a horrifying thought to imagine I walk around looking like that! As if I’ve rolled right out of bed with no regard for my appearance whatsoever!

Perhaps the both of us share one similarity. We are vain creatures who care too much about how we present ourselves to others.

Thus, I conceal myself so that you won’t judge me harshly should you look upon me. Not like you’d do that. You were so immersed in your head that you hardly paid any attention to your surroundings. You should be more careful. What if something were to happen and I wasn’t there to protect you?

The train stuttered to a halt at the first stop, and some fool bumped into me. I should thank them because I got to brush against you. You gasped softly. I watched your breath fog the window. I placed my hand just above your head and apologized softly, and you weren’t bothered in the slightest. Oh, how I envy your carefree nature.

As a result of that stranger’s mishap, I’ve learned something new. You wear perfume. Even with my mask, I could smell it. Strong and flowery, overwhelmingly sweet. Maybe you prefer these scents? I’m more partial to mature scents, but I admit there’s a certain charm to the scents you wear. I wish I knew the exact brand. There are dozens of perfumes with the same notes as the ones I picked up, but none can compare to the one you use. I want to be able to hold the bottle knowing it’s your favorite.

I’ve prattled enough. With the length of my entries, you’d assume I was this chatty beyond the page. I’m not. I only say as much as I think is necessary.

Once again, I’m having trouble falling asleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m looking through the photos I snapped and the outline of your lips against your panties is lovely. I’m sure you’re just as soft and sweet inside as you are on the outside. If only I could experience it right now. My hand can’t replicate the softness or the wetness or the way you’ll probably clamp down when we finally make love.

I can only fantasize for now. What a pain.

AA.

“It’s going to rain today,” Jack tells you the minute you step through the lift doors into the lobby. He stands straight like a soldier, his shoulders squared and features set into something serious.

“Looks like it, huh?” You glance at the darkening sky outside, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Hopefully it rains after I get home. I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“I’ll drive you.” He falls into step beside you. “It’s dark out and the station is—”

“It’s only five minutes away. I’ll be fine. I take this way all the time.”

Jack’s lip twitches into a grim frown. The beginnings of a sharp, pearly-white canine flashes at you as his mouth curls. “Fine,” he concedes with a huff. Awkwardly, he scratches the back of his neck and looks elsewhere. “Do what you want. I’m not forcing you or anything.”

You smile at him. “You’re very considerate, Jack. I appreciate the concern.”

He’s like a puppy. It’s really sweet.

“W-Wha—who said anything about concern?” His face is growing warmer by the second, thawing his external ice.

“I’ll be okay. It’s not even that dark out either.”

“Still…” He sighs and cards his hand through his hair. “You haven’t noticed anything weird lately, have you?”

“Anything weird?” You furrow your brows, suddenly confused.

“On your way home. Nothing out of the ordinary? It’s the same every day?”

“Mostly, yeah. Why? Did something happen?”

“No. Just wondering…” Jack looks past you then, searching for something you can’t seem to see. “You sure you don’t want a ride? I can walk you to the station. Protect you if anything or anyone—”

You force yourself to laugh. “Come on. You’re trying to scare me on purpose. This is because I told you I’m editing a horror novel, isn’t it?”

Jack doesn’t share in your humor. Instead, his frown tightens on his face.

“While I’m grateful you want to help, I really don’t want to put that on you. It’s not your job to chauffeur me around. I’d feel bad if I made you do that. So thank you, but I’ll have to decline.”

You turn swiftly on your heel before he can protest, striding out the door into the gloomy night.

When is it going to be summer? It’s way too chilly.

You burrow into your jacket as you beeline for the station. A brisk breeze blows through busy city streets. Even though there are still people out and about, it feels strangely desolate.

Jack’s heart was in the right place, but did he really have to phrase it like that?

You wrap your arms around yourself and hurry along. Your steps are in time with your pounding heart. A cold sweat beads along your forehead.

Relax. It’s nothing to get worked up over. I’m fine.

Crunch.

You whirl around, clutching your bag between your arms. There’s no one in sight. The city seems eerily quiet tonight.

Stop scaring yourself. Nothing’s there.

No, it’s not something that could make that sound—a noise akin to a footstep. That belongs to someone.

Is someone following you?

You aren’t going to wait around and find out. Now you’re jogging the rest of the way, your heels clicking against the pavement. Your breath comes in shaky heaves, and by the time you finally step into the station’s blinding fluorescents, adrenaline still vibrating through your veins, you notice the time.

My train—it’s already here! Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!

You rush through the station in a flurry, and the relief is tangible once you’re safe and sound inside the train car. You squirm through the throng of late-night commuters towards the window.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me,” you murmur as you navigate the crowded space.

You make it to the window just as the doors slide shut. Moments later, the train squeaks into motion.

I worked up such a sweat. I can’t believe I got so frazzled over something as small as a snapped twig…or whatever that was. It wasn’t a footstep. And if it was, it was probably my own.

You shake your head at your reflection.

Look at me, losing my mind all because I let someone’s words get to my head.

The stranger standing behind you sighs alongside you. You’re about to turn around, but it’s their hands on your waist that stop you. Your blood freezes. Your spine goes rigid.

“Excuse me? Um… C-Can I help you?”

You gasp, horrified, as the hands creep higher until they’re wrapped around your chest. The stranger squeezes almost curiously. Their breath catches on an eager hitch. You peer helplessly at the window. Two blue eyes blink back.

“Wait… Hold on—”

“It’s okay.” A man’s voice. Sweet and silky-smooth. A reassuring whisper. Only you can hear it with this invasively close proximity. It might as well be a drop in the ocean that is the rickety din of the train on the rails. You reach to grab his arms, hoping to pry him off. “I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you’re quiet…”

“No, you can’t. Please, sir. S-Stop… Don’t touch there.” Your fingers curl around his wrists. You squirm against him, your brain blanking.

This can’t be happening… There’s just no way…

Something stiff prods at your ass from behind. You yelp softly when he rubs himself against you. You try to catch sight of his features when you crane your neck, but all you get is a faceful of a dark hoodie. He’s tall enough to block you from the other passengers, his body caging yours against the window. One hand slides away from your chest to slip under your skirt. He gropes at your inner thigh; his fingers draw dangerously close to private territory.

“Sir—”

He inhales a dreamy breath. “Perfect,” he babbles, his words muffled by his mask. “So perfect. Warm… And soft. Just as I thought.”

There’s nowhere for you to run. Nowhere to hide. You’re trapped here with this fiend until you get off at your stop.

“We will be approaching the stop shortly,” the woman on the intercom says, but it doesn’t give you the relief you’re after.

Three more stops and then you’ll be at yours. Three more. Three. Your stop might as well be years away.

Two fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties. You’re grateful you’re wearing tights.

His breathing is heavy. He’s mumbling filth in your ear. You hardly register it over the static in your brain.

Gross. So gross. Stop it. Please stop. I don’t want this.

A whine bubbles low in your throat when he presses down against your clit. He caresses you through the fabric of your panties. You slump against the window with your palms on the glass. Your heart is in your throat. You feel sick and dizzy. It’s too hot in here. Everything is spinning. Your heart is picking up its pace. Your hands are starting to shake.

And there’s nowhere to go. No amount of begging will stop him. He’s all over you, pressed impossibly close—so close you think he’s trying to fuse his body to yours, becoming one mutual unit.

You want to scream, but you can’t find your voice. You can’t do anything. You can’t even think.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs, twining his fingers around your trembling ones. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mmh, no… No—stop. P-Please, sir, please stop.” You shudder against him, and a choked, broken sob rattles through your ribs.

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. His other circles your tender, sensitive clit, and the contact elicits a whimper from you. “Even though you’re making the cutest sounds? Aah, I wanna be inside you so badly… I’m sure it’s even softer there.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard that your teeth pierce the skin. A thin ribbon of blood dribbles down your chin. You refuse to give him that satisfaction. Even though your attempt to snuff your voice is successful, your body doesn’t seem to agree. It shakes in fear and arousal. When he presses against your panties next, he feels the growing damp spot.

That’s just a natural reaction, right? I’m not actually aroused by this. There’s no way!

Just when you think he might pursue further, he pulls back. His hips are still flush to your ass. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric. It’s gross and demoralizing. You’re nothing but a doll for him to get off to. Less than a person.

The train glides to a halt and the doors open. People exit and enter in a busy fashion. You stare out the window at your blurred surroundings.

When the train eases back into motion, you realize tears are welling in your eyes. They don’t fall. Not yet.

It isn’t until you get off at your stop, sprint the rest of the way home, hurry up into your apartment, and lock the door that the horror of it all finally catches up to you. You collapse to your knees and wail like you’ve just lost something precious—something you’ll never be able to get back.

You’ve never felt more dirty before.

entry 36: 4 May, 20XX.

I did it. I finally did it.

My hand is shaking; I’m so happy. No, I’m more than happy. I’m absolutely overjoyed!

You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m terribly envious. I suppose that’s why I could muster the confidence to touch you and hold you… Your body is so soft against mine. Every inch of you is beautiful. I wish I could have felt beneath your shirt, lifted your bra to see your bare breasts in the window’s reflection. This is quite the shameless admission. Even I, despite admiring you for so long, am loath to admit it.

You mesmerize me. I’m already flustered just thinking about the way your hand fit in mine when I held it… And you were aroused! I was so close to such a precious area, and you were wet for me and only me. I feel so overwhelmed. It’s a dream come true. You’re such an angel. My angel.

My dear, darling angel, I’m sorry for startling you. That was the only way, you see, and certain circumstances led me to that point. You must understand.

To be unfiltered about it, it was annoying seeing that security guard pester you. I had the strongest urge to kill him, but that’s not something you can do on a whim. Murder is like running a business, in a way. One misstep, a bad investment or a sliver of evidence left behind, and it might spell the end.

That’s besides the point. It’s hardly worth the time.

Regrettably, while on the train into the city, I noticed you were wearing trousers today. I was right. Last night was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A pity. Your legs in those sheer tights is a vision to behold. Luckily, I have enough pictures to satisfy the craving to see you in them. When you live with me, I’ll buy plenty of tights for you to wear around the house. That way you won’t have to worry if I rip them.

That aside, you’ve started looking over your shoulder more. You talked to that security guard longer than you normally do. It’s irritating. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.

I don’t want to be childish. I understand you’re stressed and nervous. Anyone would be. That’s normal. But I’m not going to hurt you. I even told you those exact words! I’m certain you would have calmed down if you could see my face. Unfortunately, I’m not very blessed in that department. I assure you my personality is far prettier…despite the ugly truths I’ve penned here.

But then those don’t matter when it comes to love. Even in love, couples are supposed to recognize and accept each other’s flaws. So it’s fine if I’m an ugly person. It’s fine if I’m a devil or something grotesque from the deepest trench in the sea. At least, in spite of such darkness, your halo will continue to light the way and I will always be lured in by your luminosity.

I can’t do much of anything right now and that has led me to feel increasingly itchy. I want to feel you again. Smell you. Touch you. I’d like to taste you next time. Part your legs or tear your skirt off and indulge in the space you keep hidden from me. I want to sink into your depths and know the shape of you just as you twist yourself to take the shape of me.

It’s just not enough. I desire more of you.

AA.

entry 40: 8 May, 20XX.

It’s been a few days. You haven’t taken the train since. Now you’re driven to and from work by that pest. I was overcome with such frustration yesterday that I slammed my hands down upon my desk and fractured my wrist. For the time being, until my wrist heals, I must wear this unsightly stabilizer-brace-thing and write carefully with my non-dominant hand. I like to consider myself ambidextrous, if only because it’s a talent I’m sure will impress you, as you seem to surround yourself with successful, talented people, but I must admit my lettering is rather…subpar.

It’s not as neat as I hoped it would be. Something to practice while my wrist heals, I suppose.

There’s only so much strain I can take, my angel. Are you really so afraid of me that you’ve chosen to rely on someone else to protect you? If it was funny, I’d laugh. But it’s not. It’s annoying. Must I chain you up by the throat so that you won’t run away? Must I cuff our wrists together so that neither of us can part ways? What must I do to ensure you’ll never leave me?

Every day I spend in solitude, you grow closer to everyone but me. It’s infuriating.

However, there are always silvers of hope to be found and exploited in misfortune. As a businessman, I know this well enough.

I can plan around this. I’ve taken a few photos of your house at every angle. It’s important to think ahead when making a calculated risk.

When you go to kidnap the love of your life, you must dress appropriately, no? Now should I wear a formal suit or something casual?

I have some time and plenty to look forward to.

AA.

Like always, early as usual, Jack is waiting for you below your apartment. You see his car from the window and light up at once.

It’s been two months since the incident on the train. Jack insisted you go to the police when you confided in him a week after the fact. But what could they do? A story isn’t evidence. Evidence is evidence. So to combat that, you’ve avoided public transport altogether. Jack drives you to and from work and anywhere else you need to go. You never knew him very well before this mess, and you regret not starting a friendship sooner. He’s everything you need right now: a friend, a listener, and someone you can trust and rely on.

Like always, he unlocks the door so you can put your things in the back. “It’s my turn to treat for lunch today, so let’s go somewhere you like.”

You shut the door and open the passenger side, sliding in seamlessly.

“There’s no need for that.”

Your heart skips. Your breath stumbles in your lungs. Your body tenses.

You finally look at the driver.

He’s wearing what appears to be an expensive collared shirt with a tie, but the top half is covered by the soft hoodie he’s thrown on over it. He has a mask like before, but there’s no denying his eyes. Bright and blue, deep and deceptive like the ocean, they blink back at you.

The door locks with a click.

You throw yourself at it in a useless effort to escape. The masked stranger seizes your wrist. You scream.

“There’s no need to be afraid. I-It’s only me! I won’t hurt you.” He tugs his mask down to his chin so that you can see the wobbly smile on his face. “Please don’t be scared…”

“Let go of me, you pervert!” You rip your arm free and reach for the door once more. “What the hell are you doing here?! W-Where’s Jack? Why are you—”

You choke around the rest of your words when he wraps his arms around you and yanks you over the seat towards him. You kick out like a deranged animal, breathing heavy and frantic, your eyes darting to and fro. The stranger manages to manhandle you into a chokehold despite the struggle. With his arm wrapped around your neck, he grabs a plastic water bottle with his free hand. Clumsily, he unscrews the cap and presses the lip of the bottle to your mouth.

“I’m sorry for being so rough, but I need you to drink this. Can you do that for me? Drink all of it.” As he says this, he tips the bottle and the strange liquid fills your mouth. You fight against his hold, doing everything you can to resist. He tightens his grip on you, dragging your body closer to his. “Swallow it, or I’ll slit your throat.”

Against your will, very shakily, you gulp down the solution. It tastes bitter and vile like medicine. A little salty.

“I didn’t want to frighten you, my angel, but this is the only way you’ll listen.” He swipes the tear threatening to spill from your eye. “You don’t have to cry. I’ll take you home and keep you safe. Just drink the rest of this and take a nap until we get there. That’s it. You’re almost done. I know it’s disgusting, but you have to drink it all, my love.”

“Why…” you sputter, coughing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He blinks at you as if the answer is obvious. “Because I love you.”

You can’t understand the logic there. You don’t want to.

Slumping against the seat, boneless and disturbed, you tremble when he leans over to buckle you in. And you continue to do so until you’re pulled into sleep.

Two blue eyes follow you in your dreams, sticking to your body like old gum under a school desk. In sleep, you feel his hands on you—clinging and cloying like tentacles and the stench of brine, all-enveloping.

entry 179: 24 September, 20XX.

Summer is winding to a close. The last few vestiges of warmth are slipping away. Today’s weather was crisp. Autumn is approaching.

It’s been a difficult few months. I’ve catalogued my process in the time you’ve spent with me, locked away in our bedroom. I must keep you chained to the bed for the time being. It’s long enough to lead into the bathroom. Until I can trust you, this is the arrangement at present.

They’re still searching for you, albeit not as frantically and frequently. I hope they assume you’ve met some grisly end so that I can finally shelve that anxiety and move on with my life. While I’m relieved it wasn’t as messy as I thought it’d be, I’m just a touch disheartened. I would have loved to watch the light fade from that guard’s eyes.

But that just wasn’t feasible or smart. Besides, what else am I to use my current fortune for, if not the props needed for that day? You call it kidnapping, and while that term is technically true I prefer something sweeter. A reunion of sorts.

There’s nothing of note to discuss. You haven’t accepted your new home or me yet, so I will continue to wait. I can be patient. I must be if this relationship is going to work (and it will).

I don’t particularly believe in soulmates. Rather, I find the concept to be foolish. Fate does not dictate an entire life. It is the decisions you make along the way that shape your paths. Just like in my favorite board game. I’d like to play it with you. Although I must admit I already know how our life goes. I have a few routes in mind.

You look at me with such scalding contempt when I imply we ought to start a family, and even though I’ve been victim to that look so many times it doesn’t burn any less. You just can’t see how good this is for you yet.

What else are we to do with our time if not use it to fill quiet halls with the pitter-patter of tiny feet? I have a few names in mind, but for now we’ll take it one day at a time. I’m a patient man despite my temper.

AA.

entry 257: 11 December, 20XX.

Exciting news! Though it may seem small, we’ve reached an understanding. Or so I suspect. You’re not so averse to me anymore. In fact, we take baths together, eat meals together, watch TV together, play board games together… There are so many things we do together as a couple and so, despite the encroaching winter frost, my days have become warmer! Just last night you allowed me to sleep beside you on our bed, and I held you close and you kissed me and I felt like the luckiest man alive.

Finally! Genuine progress!

I won’t delude myself and say that you may finally love me in the way I love you, but a start is a start. I admit I couldn’t help myself. I returned your kiss tenfold, all over your face, down the column of your throat to your collarbone. I was gentle and careful. I didn’t rush.

I like to play experienced in all fields, but even I can’t act perfectly. How should I describe our first time without all of the shameless vulgarity? Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Sex is sex no matter how you try to embellish it. Filthy and imperfect, sweaty and sticky, more effort and exercise than I realized.

You pulled me in close, pursued my mouth with the same want in mine, and it was more cathartic than anything I’ve ever known. Oh, to be kissed by the love of your life! I wasn’t aware such joy existed.

You palmed me through my pajamas and told me you wanted a family—that the idea of raising a little one was perfectly charming. I admit it’s an alluring thought I’ve had long before you lived with me. I’ve always thought you would look very enchanting while pregnant. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Even though it isn’t official yet, it doesn’t hurt to call myself your husband. In my mind and heart, we’re married. It may not seem so to you yet, but it will be.

Back to the matter at hand. Hearing that you wanted a child with me made me happy. I can’t remember if I cried. I must have because you pulled me in close and you, lying beneath me, wiped at my face and told me you wanted me to give you a child. And who am I if not the most doting, most benevolent husband? I’d do anything for you.

This must be what a predator feels when they tear into prey: a rapture so absolute and all-consuming that it covers their brain like a cotton shroud and renders every other action a hazy instinct.

It was a blur even though I was sure I moved slowly. Clothes weren’t exactly shucked. They were in the way and we had a singular goal, far too focused to remove them completely. Thus, they were pulled up, down, to the side, in whichever way provided easiest access. I closed my hands around your breasts and they feel so much softer without the obstruction of clothes.

Perhaps, rather than humans, we’re just anglerfish. Hungry for each other, using the other, a voracious relationship full of mutual benefits. If I could, I’d love to live inside you. I want nothing more than to press myself close enough to feel your heart beat alongside mine. To feel rushing blood. To turn myself inside-out just to satisfy you. Give you every little thing I can offer—brain and body—and we’d cleave through sunless waters as one, together forever.

The word ‘love’ is not large enough to truly encapsulate all that I feel for you.

My forehead pressed to yours. You kissed me once. I felt sloppy. I was sloppy. Inexperienced. We both are. Your hand wrapped around me. I told you it was okay, to do it at your own pace, to tell me if it hurts. But you kissed my every anxiety away, and in just a few strokes we were connected. Perhaps I died then and I’m still dead now.

Maybe I’m writing this from the moon or the deep, dark sea. Maybe all of this is just a long dream and I’m not even human. Maybe I’m the anglerfish stuck to your side, latched on with my sharp teeth, our lives forever intertwined. You taste of fruit and blood and every beautifully painful thing in this world.

For the first time in the many months we’ve lived together, you called me by my name. You gasped it as you curled your legs around my waist and clung to my chest, your arms draped over my neck, nails in my back. You chanted it like a song. I must have done the same with yours.

However, no amount of carnal euphoria can change the fact that I still have my reservations about unchaining you.

A deliberation for another day. It’s time to cook dinner. I’ve improved lots in the time we’ve known each other. You help around the kitchen as well. Harmless things like stirring batter or mixing a salad. I can’t trust you with actual food prep for reasons I’m sure are obvious and understandable. I try to create balanced meal plans. Now that I’m no longer eating alone and surviving off of misery, I want to show you that I’m both a great chef and a conscientious eater.

AA.

You watch the seasons shift outside the bedroom window and there’s nothing you can do.

You live life chained like a prisoner and there’s nothing you can do.

You eat off paper plates with the same utensils made for toddlers and there’s nothing you can do.

You let the same man whose touch was once so covetous pet you all over with his hands and mouth and there’s nothing you can do.

You’re stuck here forever and there’s nothing you can do.

There are highs higher than the clouds and then there are lows lower than the sea. You oscillate between these temperaments, a body thrown around on rocky waves. How you’ve yet to sink and drown for good, you’re not sure.

Today’s low has brought Azul to his knees. You stand over him, gripping the knife in a shaky hold. Chopped vegetables scatter in a rainbow on the floor. He had been chopping them so methodically, so wrapped up in pleasant conversation with you, that he hadn’t been expecting the retaliation. The blade is freshly sharpened. The perfect weapon. The perfect opportunity. Freedom just after this final hurdle.

Freedom that comes with its burdens—with a child and the law and the media and… And then what? A life of loneliness. A life spent working through mountains of trauma. A life in which you can never look at the train again.

Two blue eyes blink up at you. For the first time, Azul looks scared and weak—a small, pitiful thing. For the first time, you have him trapped beneath your thumb.

You want to bring the knife down and put an end to these cyclical days. You want to crush his spirits in the same way he crushed yours. You want him to know pain so brutal it rots him from the inside.

But you can’t. You want to and in an ideal scenario devoid of fear you would. But you can’t.

You dig your heel palms into your eyes and sob. “I can’t! I’m sorry. I… I can’t do it!”

Azul deflates with a deep sigh. “Oh… Oh, my angel, it’s all right. I forgive you. You’re just a little confused. A little emotional—I get it. We all have emotional moments. I’m not upset.”

“But I—I almost… I was going to—”

“You didn’t. You didn’t, my love, and that’s what matters.”

He beckons you to his height; you lower to your knees. The knife is still clutched in your hands. He looks between it and you, as if weighing which is more dangerous. Volatile emotions or a blade. Maybe both.

Azul wraps his arms around you and rubs your back consolingly. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

You sniffle, but the tears won’t stop flowing. “Still… I almost did such a horrible thing to you. I could’ve hurt you—k-killed you!”

“My dear, it’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head, tucking you beneath his chin. “I forgive you.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle. “You do?”

“I do. I always will.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Angel—”

You turn the sharpened point inwards and slam it into his side, just below his rib. It pierces through soft flesh. You pull away just in time to see hurt and betrayal flash across his face, hot like the tears you’re now drying.

Shakily, his movements unsteady, he reaches for the handle. His fingers dance across it, assessing the reality of the situation. You stabbed him. You did it.

He hisses through his teeth when he tears it out. Blood spatters the kitchen floor in a brilliant, vermillion arc. Azul, knife in hand, staggers to his feet and lunges.

You stumble away in a blind panic.

“How dare you…” He clutches his side with one hand while the other slashes through the air. You narrowly dodge before the knife can slice your arm. Blood seeps through Azul’s shirt, staining his palm red. His expression is twisted in a dark concoction of agony and anger. “I’ve shown you nothing but love and care… I’ve been nothing but patient. I’ve done everything! You were beginning to warm up to me—to this life—our life! I was wrong to trust you. Get back here—”

“You’re crazy! You assaulted me, kidnapped me, threatened me! Do you really think I’d love you after all of that?!” You yelp when his slick, blood-stained fingers wrap around your wrist to drag you down. “Stop! Let go of me!”

You elbow him in the ribs, which causes a shockwave of pain to travel through him, and it gives you enough time to wriggle free. Ripping your arm from his hold, you try to get away when he, aiming to subdue you, grabs hold of your ankle next. You feel the blade sink into your calf before you see it. A terrible cry frays your throat, torn from the depths of your chest like a flower pried from the soil.

“If I’m going to die…” He flops to his knees, wheezing. “If I’m going to die, you’ll die with me.”

“Like hell I will!” you hiss through your teeth, thrashing wildly.

Stupidly, you pull the knife from where it’s wedged in. Blood spurts from the wound, trickling down your leg in a thick, steady stream. You wince and limp towards the door. Closer… You’re almost there.

Azul reaches out with a bloodied hand, his expression utterly shattered. “Wait… Don’t go any further. Please… I need you. We need each other. My angel, my love, please don’t go!”

You tear your eyes away. He’s a monster. You’ll never sympathize with him.

Just before you can get to the front door, Azul picks himself up and wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls you down and your head hits the floor with a harsh smack. You see stars. The ceiling spins above you. You try to get up, crawl away, escape—whatever it takes to lose him—but he clings to your side, holding tight. His blood is warm and wet against your shirt. The pain in your calf is sparking up your leg, joining the ache at the back of your head in duet.

Pressed so closely, the flow of blood slows. Your shirt soaks up what the rest of his already drenched shirt can’t hold.

You watch the ceiling. The light looks like a halo; it shines brightly. Azul blinks up at you, hopelessly, sickly enthralled. The tip of the knife prods at your stomach. If it pierces, you don’t feel it. You’re sore all over. Bruises are already beginning to bloom.

At the bottom of the sea, clothed in frigid darkness, there is no sense of direction.

That’s the sweetest relief while you wade into unconsciousness with a parasitic angler.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #yandere azul x reader #tw: noncon touching #tw: noncon #tw: chikan #n/sfw #tw: stalking

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4theitgirls · 2 months ago

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hii <3 i absolutely love all your workout posts soo soo much <3 thank u for them ! i just had a request if you could make a post about a weekly plan for beginners ? like someone who's just recently starting exercising for weight loss and overall health as a student who's prepping for a national exam , ive spent the entirety of 2024 on my desk , its caused me back issues , weight gain , joint pain and more , now that i finally have time i'd love to feel healthy and strong again <3 it would be a huge huge help if you post it <33 thank u a million times

hi lovely! i’m so glad my posts have helped you. most of the videos i’m going to be posting in the near future are likely going to be beginner friendly because i have had a flare up of inflammation in my shoulder, so i will not be going too hard for a bit. the videos that will work for you will vary from mine and anyone else’s, so the actual videos you do are really up to you and how you’re feeling day to day. however, i can suggest a split for you to try and give you some tips and channel recommendations!

split:

monday: full body strength

- if you have joint issues, strength training can definitely help with that! just make sure that you are doing low-impact exercises to keep pressure off of your joints. madfit and heather robertson have a lot of these types of videos, both with equipment and without! you can also do pilates for this if you feel it will benefit you better, and i have a beginner pilates routine masterlist posted.

tuesday: cardio & mobility

- same as monday, just be sure that you are doing low-impact exercises for cardio. i have a masterlist for cardio routines as well in case you need some recommendations. for mobility, i recommend heather robertson and julia.reppel on youtube. mobility is great for improving joint health!

wednesday: lower body

- you can really do any form of strength training here, with or without weights, pilates, etc. i have a lower body masterlist up as well, but i would recommend trying some mat/lying workouts to build up some muscle before moving into more intense exercises for lower body day. i have a couple of those masterlists posted as well!

thursday: active recovery

- this can include so many things, including mobility, stretching, yoga, walking, or anything else you can do that is gentle on your body. again, i love heather robertson’s active recovery routines.

friday: upper body

- if you have joint issues in your upper body, i would be gentle on upper body days, meaning just don’t push yourself too hard and if a movement doesn’t feel good or causes you pain, stop. emi wong and hailey c. have great upper body workouts that do not require any equipment.

saturday: cardio & core work

- same thing with the low-impact cardio. core work has so many benefits and is great for stabilizing your spine and, in turn, reducing the risk of injury to your joints. madfit has a lot of ab workouts, but you can really find them on any workout channel you like!

sunday: rest or active recovery

NOTE: please make sure, especially if you’re a beginner, that you are stretching after each workout! this will reduce soreness and risk of injury.

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flemingsfreckles · 3 months ago

Text

Replacement Pt. 10

Read the rest of the series here!

Warnings: none :)

WC: 3.4k

A/N: hi I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get this out to you all.

The next morning walking into the locker room you could feel your nerve endings start to tingle. No one else knew, no one knew that you and Jessie had kissed, not just once, but multiple times. They also didn’t know that the two of you were going on a date. When you walked up to your locker you couldn’t help but glance at Jessie as she was already sat, putting her boots on.

“Hi.” You greeted her, having to fight back the smile and blush you could feel rising. You’re not sure why suddenly you couldn’t handle yourself around her. It had been no issue before despite your feelings. But maybe now it was the fact that you knew what her lips tasted like, you knew how it felt to have her hands on your face, you knew how she could make you feel.

Wednesday was quick however Thursday dragged on. Training had been ruthless, trying to work out the issues the team had been having, meaning a lot of running.

“Let’s go out for dinner! We all deserve that after today.” You hear Sam starting to gather support for her dinner. A couple teammates started to throw out restaurant suggestions, offering up different places not far from the stadium.

“You coming?” Sam comes over to you.

You freeze, glancing at Jessie beside you who was looking back at you. You quickly look back to Sam, shaking your head quickly. “Um, no, I can’t. I have plans, an appointment, I can’t.” You usually were a good liar, you had been hiding in a lie most of your life, yet your sentence comes out a blabbered mess when you lie to Sam.

“Boo, don’t be a party pooper.” Sam says before patting you on the shoulder and turning to face Jessie. “What about you?”

Jessie looks like a deer in headlights, eyes wide staring back at Sam, she opens her mouth to speak before closing it, no sound coming out. She glances at you, then around the room before back to Sam. “No, I can’t, tonight doesn’t work for me.”

“You both suck.” Sam teases before quickly moving on. “These two have better things to do than hang out with us.” She announces to the rest of the team. You turn to look at Jessie before quickly looking away, you couldn’t be seen looking at her too much, the team couldn’t know.

You finish changing, packing your bag up when you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Busy huh?” You turn and Janine has a knowing smile on her face. “Both of you?” She glances down to Jessie’s empty cubby. She had gotten up to go to the restroom a moment ago and Janine saw it as the perfect time to confront you.

“Yeah I guess she has something, I don’t keep up with her schedule.” You shrug. Keeping your eye contact with the bag you try to make it less obvious that you clearly knew of Jessie’s plans for the evening, that you were part of those plans.

“Mhmm, sure.” You catch Jessie’s eye as she walks in from the other side of the room, having to fight back a smile as Janine continues to talk. “Enjoy your ‘appointment’ if that’s what you’re calling her.” That makes your face drop, how did she know?

Janine turns, leaning to whisper something to Jessie as she passes, you watch as Jessie’s face contorts into annoyance before she says something hushed back to Janine.

As Jessie sits down you pull out your phone, sending her a text.

You: Did you tell her?

Jessie Fleming: Tell her what?

Jessie Fleming: Who?

You: Janine, that I was coming over tonight?

Jessie Fleming: No, was I supposed to?

You: No, you can’t be telling people we’re seeing each other.

Jessie Fleming: I didn’t.

As Jessie sends her text you can feel her eyes practically burning holes into the side of your head. You look at her, she throws her hands up, pointing at her phone with a confused look on her face. You wave her off and turn your phone off putting it into your jacket pocket.

You can hear Jessie scrambling to gather her things before the sound of her footsteps follow you down the hallway and out the door of the facility.

“Hey!” She shouts at you before calling your name. You stop only once you reach your car. “What the heck?” Jessie says as she stares at you, one hand bracing herself on your car.

“What?” It was silly to play dumb, you knew why she was following you.

“Are you okay?” Jessie says still a confused look plastered across her face.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Then what was that all about?” She says, a smile breaking across her lips, slightly laughing as she shook her phone at you.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” Jessie reaches her hand out but retracts it when she notices you flinch away slightly, your gaze scanning around the nearly empty parking lot, looking for signs of your teammates or anyone who could see the two of you. You give her a very small nod and Jessie reaches for your hand again.

“I just, I got nervous that Janine knew, she made a comment that made it seem like she knew we were having a date tonight.”

“I didn’t tell her. I wouldn’t at least not without checking with you.” Squeezing your fingers Jessie returns the gesture, squeezing your hand in hers.

“Okay.” You say, still feeling a steady state of stress in your body, not knowing what to think about Janine’s comment or the fact that Jessie was holding your hand in a public parking lot. No one was there but you felt like you could be seen.

“Okay, I’ll still see you tonight then?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” You nod at her before dropping your hand from hers and turning to open your car door.

“Okay, I’m free whenever, if you want to just text me when you’re on the way.” Jessie smiles at you. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” You give her a flash of a smile before ducking into the car, closing the door. Jessie turns walking to her own before turning back to wave at you.

The second you got home you were already itching to be back in Jessie’s presence. Staring down the clock you wondered how long you had to wait for it to feel like an appropriate time to text her telling her you’re on the way. As the clock approaches 5:00 you decide to get off the couch and make a quick stop at the corner store before texting Jessie you were on the way.

“Hi.” The door opens quickly, you barely get a second knock in before your met with Jessie’s smile.

“Hi!” Extending your hand you push the flowers towards her. You can feel your stomach filling with nerves as she takes them, her fingertips brushing against yours. You’d been to Jessie’s apartment plenty of times, never for a date. “It smells good in here!”

“Oh I had a candle going earlier, it’s maple latte scented.”

“I like it.” you say following her out of the entry way. You find yourself admiring her as she walked ahead of you. She was simply dressed, a black shirt and light blue athletic shorts. It was nice, you never felt like you had to overdo it with Jessie, she had insisted you wear comfortable clothing, it was supposed to be a cozy date.

She looks over to the kitchen. “So, everything’s ready for pizzas if you want to eat now, if not we can wait, I wasn’t sure if you ate after training or not.”

“I could eat.” You hadn’t had anything to eat after training, too caught up on when to text Jessie, too caught up in the fact that you were actually going on a date, with her, a date with a girl. You hadn’t even thought to eat.

“Oh good I was hoping you’d say that.” You follow Jessie into the kitchen, immediately overwhelmed by the layout she had going. The countertop is covered in bowls with toppings all neatly cut up. Jessie must’ve noticed the expression on your face to her preparedness. “I know it’s a lot, I wasn’t sure what you liked on your pizza so I sort of got everything.” She gestures to the counter.

“That’s sweet Jess.” You lean over, not thinking twice before planting a kiss on her cheek. Jessie tilts her head down but you catch the way she tries to fight back the grin that grew on her face.

“There’s dough in the fridge.” She says to you as she walks to grab a sheet pan from her cabinet. You open the fridge, grabbing out the bowl with a lump of dough in it, placing it on the counter.

“Give me your hands.” Listening to her, you extend your hands in Jessie’s direction before she coats them with a small amount of flour. “Now the dough won’t stick.” Coating her own hands after Jessie reaches for the bowl, splitting the ball of dough into fourths before putting one in front of you. “Just roll it however thick you want, then we’ll cook them for a bit and then toppings.”

“Did you hand make this?”

“Yeah, I did, yesterday though because once you make it you have to let it sit.” Jessie grabs a rolling pin, handing it to you before starting to flatten her own ball of dough with her hands.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“I’ve always really liked cooking and baking. Cooking is cool because you can experiment with it more, baking has to be a bit more precise it’s more of a science. It’s always been something I’ve been around I guess, it’s something my Mom really enjoys. I always wanted to help her in the kitchen, I think mostly as a kid I wanted to lick the spoon and taste everything. Then as I got older it was more about spending time with her and my grandma too, she loved baking as well. It’s just comforting to me, especially when I get to do it with someone, or for someone.” She continued to roll her dough while speaking, you on the other hand caught up in her taking had yet to roll out yours at all. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, it’s nice, I like hearing about those things. I’ve started to like cooking since I’ve been on my own. I didn’t have much influence from my parents on that as a kid.” You can almost feel the uncomfortable tension that you created bringing up your parents. It wasn’t often you spoke of them, but when you did you knew the reaction you’d get from people around you. Some uncomfortable not knowing the situation with your parents, some trying to change the subject to a completely different topic, dismissing everything you said, some give you the look of pity knowing your relationship with them is poor.

Jessie didn’t do any of those options. “Maybe we could do a cooking class sometime, you know where they bring in a chef and they teach you some really cool special recipe? If that’s something you’d like?”

She didn’t look at you with pity, she didn’t completely disregard your comment, still acknowledging your interest in cooking, but not lingering on the unsettling topic of your parents. She somehow always knew what to say, how to make you feel comfortable.

“I think that could be cool.” You nod at her before finally starting to roll out your own dough, glancing over every few seconds to watch Jessie, trying to match her actions. The two of you roll out all the dough into a couple mini pizzas and Jessie sticks them in the oven, setting a timer before walking into her living room.

She shows you a few games she had gotten out, as well as a few movie options, as she stands looking at a cabinet of stuff you look around her place, you’d seen it a hundred times, but still it felt like you were seeing it in a different light now. Your eyes fall on the table beside her couch, a stack of photos sitting there. What catches your eye is that your own face is looking back at you.

“Oh, those are the film photos, I finally got them developed.” The photos are quickly scooped up into Jessie’s hands and she sits down on the couch, patting beside you to come sit by her. “From the day we walked around, so a lot of them are of you, see?” She begins flipping through them, photos of downtown, of people, signs, birds, cars, capturing the essence of Portland. Then there’s photos of you. Similar to the digital ones she had show you, you find yourself actually enjoying the photos, you aren’t repulsed or uneasy looking at them.

“You know,” you start, “you’re the only person who’s made me not hate photos of myself.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, that was depressing, it came out wrong, I meant it as a compliment.”

“No I know you did, I just,” she pauses looking at you, “I don’t see how you could hate a photo of yourself, you’re perfect.”

“Stop.” You look down to your lap, unable to maintain eye contact with Jessie any longer.

“No seriously.” She goes to reach for your face before pulling her hand back and whispering a quick apology. You grab her hand that was retreating and place it onto your cheek, you didn’t want her to be scared to touch you, you trusted her.

When your eyes meet you can read the look in her eyes, the way they dart down to your lips, the way her tongue quickly wets her bottom lip. You can’t resist her, leaning in to meet her lips with your own your hands fall to her lap, bracing yourself on her thighs.

The two of you get lost in your own world. The warmth of her hand on your cheek, the feeling of her thighs under your fingers, the way you can smell her shampoo over the smell of the candle, the way her lips are soft on yours, the kiss is firm but her lips are soft. Jessie leans further into the kiss, encouraging you to lean back as her tongue traces your bottom lip. Her body slightly hovers over your own, her chest against yours, you could live in this feeling forever. Forever is cut short by the timer on the oven going off.

You both let out sounds of disappointment when your lips part followed by small laughs. “Guess we should go finish making dinner.” Jessie hops off the couch extending her hand to help you up. She keeps her fingers intertwined with yours as she walks both of you to the kitchen. Grabbing a hot pad she gets out the partially baked dough placing them on the counter. The two of you put sauce and toppings on your pizza before sticking them back in the oven.

“Hey, you’ve got a little something right, there.” Jessie says bringing her finger to your nose, only instead of cleaning anything off, she wipes sauce from her finger onto your nose.

“Hey!” Your jaw drops at Jessie’s behavior. She’s staring back at you with a shit eating grin across her face. Her smile drops when she sees you stick your own finger into the bowl of sauce before lunging in her direction. She lets out a scream and runs away, making you chase her around the kitchen island. You both make a few laps before she lets you catch her, backing her into the corner of the kitchen. “Looks like you’ve got something, here, and here, and here.” You put sauce on her cheeks before on her lips, quickly following your finger with your lips gently kissing the sauce off.

“You know, for someone who’s never really dated, you’re incredibly smooth.”

“Thanks.” You say before stepping back, giving her personal space. The two of you chat, discussing that day’s training while you waited for the pizza to be done. When the oven timer finally rang again you played your pizzas and followed Jessie to the table. The two of you played cards while eating, adding in conversation about training, the weather, your plans for the off season.

You offered to clear the plates ones you both had finished eating. When you returned to Jessie’s living room she was sitting on the couch. “Movie time?”

“Yeah, sure.” You looked at her and then at the couch. There was space on either side of Jessie, she sat near the middle. You chose to sit on her left side, the side closest to you, it seemed like the easiest choice. As the movie started you were unsure of how to sit, feeling incredibly stiff and suddenly overly aware of every move and breath Jessie took.

Were you at the point of cuddling? You weren’t even sure if you felt comfortable with the idea of cuddling her. You liked her, there was no denying that, you just had never cuddled with another girl, not in a romantic way. You thought it was all in your head, apparently not as Jessie places a hand on your thigh. “You know you can relax, you don’t have to sit so stiff.”

“Oh, I just, I’m not used to this, I wasn’t sure.” You glance at her out of the side of your eye.

“That’s fine, you just look uncomfortable.”

“Yeah.”

“Here, lean toward me.” Jessie opens her arms, shifting her body to face you a little bit more. You lean back slightly putting your back halfway on her chest and shoulder. One of Jessie’s arms wraps around your waist, the other remains at her side. “More comfortable?”

“Yeah.” It was not only comfortable but it felt safe, Jessie’s front against your back, her arm around your waist, you felt safe. You could feel the rise and fall of Jessie’s chest with each breath, you could hear her soft laughs at the movie, her breath close against your face. So caught up in the feeling of Jessie’s body you nearly forget you're watching a movie, feeling as though you have no idea what you just watched when the credits start to roll across the screen.

You shift, leaning forward and off of Jessie. “I guess I should get going.” You clap your hands onto your knees before standing up from the couch. When you turn Jessie looks surprised.

“Oh, yeah, of course, yes sure.” Jessie nods rapidly standing up to mirror you. You head toward the door, grabbing your shoes and bending down to tie them. When you stand back up you are startled with how closely Jessie is standing to you.

“I had a really nice time tonight Jessie.” You reach a hand out placing it on Jessie’s forearm. “Thank you.”

“Of course, I also really had a nice time.” The two of you stand, fidgeting with your hands while Jessie’s fingers pull at her shirt as she sways her weight side to side on her feet.

“Um, so next time, maybe I can, I can, set something up for us to do?” You look at her.

“A second date?”

You're suddenly racking your brain for date ideas. You’d never taken anyone on a date, you’d been on dates, just never one you were planning. “Yeah, I want to take you on a date. I’ll uh, send you the details, once I figure them out.”

“That sounds great. Still on for our regular coffee tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight Jessie.” You look at her, she’s looking at you, were you supposed to kiss her, you’d kissed already today, but were you on a goodbye kiss basis yet?

“Goodnight, text me when you get home.”

“I will.” You reach your hand behind you, grabbing the door handle and twisting it before opening the door slightly. “Goodnight.” You give in to your desire, quickly dropping the door letting it close and leaning to kiss Jessie quickly. When you pull back from her you’re both smiling, matching blushes. “Okay, now I’m actually leaving, goodnight Jessie.”

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

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intimidating-fettuccine · 4 months ago

Note

Can i get headcanons for whats it like everyday in the mansion

I hope I did okay on this, I tried to just summarize a general average day for you

While there can be a lot of chaos in the mansion with so many people going through so many different things, on any random given day it's actually more normal than you might assume. They've all lived together for so long that they essentially function as a family, and they tend to get along for the most part. If it's a training day, their days start early. They're usually up by 6 or 7 on training days, all working in groups to train specific aspects for their job, or just working out together and getting in their exercise for the day. If it's not an exercise day, they all tend to sleep in to different times, and if they don't have work at all for the day some of them can sleep quite late.

Usually Slender handles breakfast as he's always the one up the earliest, but generally they try and rotate shifts for meals. I think they'd have a board in the kitchen, and whoever is going to cook the following day will write down either what they want to make for their meals, or they'll write a few foods that they can vote on and they'll make whatever wins. Depending on their schedules and how much they like cooking a creep might cook all three meals or just one or two, as cooking for that many people is a lot of work, so they tend to work in pairs sometimes as well. After breakfast, they tend to disperse for the day. Anyone on duty to handle chores (dishes, cleaning, organizing, etc.) will usually begin doing that, and anyone who has a mission to handle will get ready for that. Anyone who has nothing to do usually hangs out in their friend groups in the mansion, and they'll go out or stay in and play games or watch something, or just hang out. Most days in the mansion are actually pretty calm, with not a lot of rambunctious energy and trouble happening. Someone will make lunch and everyone home who is hungry will group back together to eat and chat, and then they tend to disperse again.

Dinner is the one meal in the mansion that requires mandatory attendance (unless you're not feeling well) because Slender likes to have everyone together for dinner. They all fill up Slender's long dining table and eat and talk and joke around, and it's when all of them tend to be most content. I said in a very, very, very old post that they have different events happening every day of the week as well. Monday night is Slender's book club night in the mansion, Tuesday afternoons Toby and Helen host an art club, Wednesday mornings Jeff hosts a workout class to help everyone learn new exercises and target specific types of workouts, Thursday night is movie night and Friday night is game night and BEN is in charge of both of those, Saturday afternoons Slender teaches cooking and LJ teaches baking, and Sunday afternoons is group therapy hosted by Slender. The only one that requires attendance is therapy, but generally, everyone tends to go to different events every week when they feel up to it, which is pretty often. They're all required to be back in their bedrooms between like 12-12:30, but they're free to do anything before that, and they can stay awake if they'd like to, Slender just tries to encourage healthy sleeping routines. The only exception to that is EJ since he's nocturnal, so he tends to have the mansion to himself overnight, which he doesn't mind because he likes the quiet. Anyone with an overnight mission will leave for their missions around the time everyone else goes to bed, and they tend to return in the early morning hours and try to quietly shower and go to bed so they can sleep as much as they need.

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redroomreflections · 7 months ago

Text

Not Easily Broken Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

1/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties.

W/c: 2.2k

“Emma has ballet classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights,” Natasha breathes nursing her mug steaming with whatever tea flavor she’s decided to drink this month. She avoids your gaze letting her eyes focus on the steam rising steadily from the cup. She sips waiting for you to answer.

“Okay,” You sigh rubbing your sweaty palms against the leg of your jeans. “I can take Wednesdays with Ryan if you can do Thursday nights with Emma and then we trade Tuesdays?” You suggest looking over to the woman on the other side of the counter.

“No, I have training with Steve on Thursday nights,” She declines.

“Since when?” You ask your eyebrow raised.

“Since forever.” She answers simply. “Besides you are much better at interacting with the other dance moms. Emma will want you there too.” She reminds you.

“Okay,” You say again. “What about carpool? How is that going to work if we’re in separate places? Do we keep them every other night? Switch off on weekends?”

“No, Emma’s finally gotten through her sleep regression we can’t change that now.” Natasha shakes her head. She decides she doesn’t want the tea anymore turning her back to empty it into the sink. She leans against it heavily with her arms folded gazing out of the casement window.

“Nat, we’ve been at this for an hour already,”

She turns to glare at you and if looks could kill you’d be dead.

It’s dark here in the kitchen beside the light illuminating from the stove. You’re both tired and utterly destroyed but you need to do this. You don’t want to put your children in court. Custody battles could get ugly and you want this to go right. Looking at Natasha and the frustrated expression she sports you can tell she’s tired of this too. You glance over to your bags packed and waiting for you to take them. For you to leave. You both agreed you wouldn’t stay during the night anymore only keeping up appearances for the children until you’re ready to tell them. Until Natasha is ready. She notices your looks clenching the edge of the counter.

“Have somewhere to be?”She raises a brow.

“What? No.” You roll your eyes. “I’m just wondering if we’re getting anywhere with this. If we’re doing the right thing.”

“If we’re doing the right thing?” She asks incredulously. “Only one of us has made this decision. Only one of us is working to break up this family.”

“Nat,” You warn. You really didn’t want to go there with her tonight. You can feel the splitting headache at the base of your neck. There’s tension there and you reach up with your right hand to massage the spot. You can practically feel the knots under your fingers.

“Don’t call me that,” She practically spits.

“Fine, fine.” You sigh again. “I’ll take whatever day you want. Just send me their schedules and I’ll try to keep up with it.”

“There’s no try, y/n.” Natasha scoffs. “Either you’re there or you’re not. It’s not so easy to just hop in and out of your children’s lives when you want.” She returns to a defensive stance looking at you challengingly. “Then again I forgot who raised you.”

How dare she? Your jaw clenches slightly as you try to rein in your emotions. Your father was a deadbeat dad who only spent time taking advantage of your love for too long. He would come and go as he pleased only bothering to spend time with you when he wanted to look like the father of the year. You were nothing like him. Nothing like him! As you look into those forest green eyes you can see the dare there. She wants you to say something back.

“I’m not playing into your games,” You shake your head. “There’s never a moment where I haven’t loved our children less than the day they were born. I would never.”

“And yet you’re spending more and more time at the office,” She tilts her head. “Your paperwork sees more of you than they do.”

“Natasha, that’s unfair.” You ball your fists on your side. “You know things at work have been hectic. They know that. I-I try to be there as much as I can. Besides, I distinctly remember you being gone for months at a time for missions when they were young. I don’t see you getting any awards either.”

“Hmm,” She hums. “Seems we both have something in common then.”

“What is this really about, Natasha?” You ask. “Because there’s not much left for us to say or for us to do.” You stand walking over to your bags. You slip your cell phone inside of the carry-on and turn back to her.

“Right, run away like the coward you are.” She mutters.

“What?” You’re taking steps closer to her this time. You don’t realize how close you are until she’s pressed against the counter. Your breaths are practically intermingled and this is the closest you’ve been in months you realize. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Natasha says nonchalantly. “It’s just you have a tendency to run away from your problems. You run when times get hard.”

“And you don’t?”

“Like I said we have a lot in common,” She stands a bit taller. “You don’t have to do this. Any of this I mean. If it gets hard for you. I can take Ryan and Emma and I’ll figure something out with their schedules. I’ll tell them something about you having to work or I don’t know. Just don’t play with their hearts.”

“Dammit, Natasha,” Your hand raises and you don’t miss the way she flinches. You’re not going to hit her. You would never. At that moment you feel like an idiot as you back away from her. “Jesus.” You breathe. “Nat, we can’t keep doing this. Pretending that we love each other. I mean in the beginning, things were so loving and so passionate. I’ve loved every minute of our life together but it’s just…. I…” you stumble to find your words.

“Who says I’m pretending?” She frowns.

“It’s not enough anymore for us to be holding on by a thread,” You drop your hands back to your sides. “It’s not enough for us to be two people in love anymore. That’s not how a marriage works.”

“Is that it? Or I am not enough?” She’s vulnerable at this moment looking at you. Her voice cracks just slightly and you feel your heartbreaking. You’re not heartless and you’re not a monster. You never wanted to make her feel this way. “Did you find someone else?” She asks suddenly.

“I’m not a cheater.” You reply. How could she possibly think she wasn’t enough? Natasha was everything. She’s always been everything. Your everything. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re supposed to. That’s why you’re here and after 9 years of marriage and two children, you aren’t taking this lightly. You’ve sat on this for the better part of a year and you decided a divorce was better. You fought more in the past year. Spent more time apart. Kept yourself out of the house more and more. Anything to put some space between the two of you.

“You know that’s really hard to believe when you haven’t been present for a very long time,” Natasha says.

“What? Just because I’ve been away more doesn’t mean I would cheat?”Where would she ever get this idea?

“We haven’t had sex in almost two years,” Natasha points out. Damn! Has it really been that long? Surely you’ve been intimate more recently than that. There was that time a few months ago when you had her against the sink in one of the bathrooms at Tony and Pepper’s anniversary party. No. You’d gotten interrupted and forgotten all about it. “So if you’re not getting it from me you’re getting it from someone else. Just tell me instead of giving me the bullshit excuses you have been. Is it Cara from accounting? She’s sweet. Nice body. Lisa from HR? I bet she eats pussy well enough. ”

“Natasha, I am not a cheater.” Your voice raises and she immediately shushes you. If you wake the children this is going to turn into an even tougher conversation. In a hushed tone, “I can promise you, Natasha I have never cheated on you.”

“So tell me what it is,” Her tone is almost petulant and childlike. She’s frustrated and hurt. The next thing is for her to lash out and you’d much rather leave before she gets to that.

“Nat, I can’t because there’s not just one simple reason,” You try to force your mind to focus on the conversation in front of you. “We aren’t who we used to be. We fight more than we love. That’s not how a marriage should be. It’s not good for the kids and it’s not good for us.”

“And you made this decision all on your own,” Natasha’s voice wavers. Before you can speak again there’s a small voice coming from behind her.

“Mama?”

You both turn to see sleepy green eyes looking up at you.

Four-year-old Emma (four and a half according to her) looks between the both of you as she tries to figure out the situation in this room. She’s holding her favorite blue blanket, the one she’s had since she was a newborn, to her chest. She looks so small in her nightgown with her red hair messy as she trails over to Natasha. Her blanket drags against the ground as she walks. She raises her arms to be picked up and Natasha obliges her.

“What are you doing up, printsessa?” Natasha raises the girl onto her hip caressing her back and head as she rocks her gently.

“I heard yelling,” She pouts looking over to you through her thick lashes. She looks exactly like Natasha despite you having carried her. It’s something you both joked about after choosing her donor. Ryan looks more like you. He’s seven and apparently a much deeper sleeper. “Mommy, are you going somewhere?” Emma asks pointing her chubby fingers over to your door.

“Yeah,” You answer her.

“For how long this time?” She shoots another question.

You look to Natasha for help on how to answer but she simply looks away burying her face in Emma’s hair.

“For a little bit, Babygirl.” You try.

“But I don’t want you to go.” Emma’s pout deepens. “You have to stay and eat breakfast with me, and Mama, and Ryan.”

“Not this time, I can’t.” You say.

“Oh,” She looks down before looking up at you. “Well, when you get back can we have a sleepover in your and Mama’s bed? We haven’t done one of those in a long, long time?” Her voice is hopeful and you can tell she’s fighting her sleep again.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. You can’t bring yourself to lie to her. You don’t want to be like him. Giving her false hope.

“Tell you what, Printsessa, you and Ryan can sleep with me tomorrow night.” Natasha bounces her on her hip. Emma’s eyes light up at the promise. You’re so grateful she’s taken the lead. She’s had to frequently these days. “Now you can sleep with me tonight too. Go upstairs and get warm and I’ll come and tuck you in.” She releases Emma from her hold and the girl slides down from her body. She begins to run to the stairs before stopping in her tracks. She turns to run and you kneel to catch her in your arms. She wraps her arms around your neck landing a wet kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, Mommy. Come back soon,” It’s a thing you and Natasha used to say whenever she was away on missions. Hearing your daughter utter those words brings tears to your eyes. In your peripheral, you can see Natasha is just as emotional as she wipes the tears away quickly before Emma can see.

“I will,” You manage to get out as you hold her in your arms for a few seconds. Finally, you let go and she takes off running presumably for your bedroom. You stay kneeling before rising to your full height. You reach out to Natasha to comfort her, you’re not really sure why, but you’re expecting her to pull away. She doesn’t. She allows you to pull her into your arms and she buries her face into your neck. You hold her as a sob rack her body. You dare a kiss to the side of her head and she pulls away from you as if she’s been burned.

She wraps her arms around herself defensively. She looks so small at this moment. With her black leggings and her oversized sweater.

“I’m broken, and I’m tired and it’s your fault so please leave.” She doesn’t wait for you to say anything else as she turns to follow the same path your daughter has taken. She trusts you enough to lock the door. As you look around the home you’ve built you can’t help but feel guilty. Everything you’ve built was crumbling and you can’t help but feel it’s all your fault.

----> next part

#natasha x reader #black reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #angst

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leclercvsx · 1 year ago

Text

I miss your facts | TEXTING AU

LANDO NORRIS

pairings: lando x reader

summary: y/n and lando are bestfriends, y/n liking lando. She introduces him to one of her bestfriends, he forgets about her and only realises what he missed when it’s too late

warnings: mentions of suicide!

y/n <3

did you know that some sharks can’t stop swimming otherwise they’ll die?

Lan <3

that’s useful, thanks

y/n <3

EXACTLY! i knew i was needed

Lan <3

you’re always needed

11:23am | thursday

y/n <3

i miss you, can you come over after training?

Lan <3

i will, might be a little while though

y/n <3

don’t take tooo long

14:56pm | Tuesday

y/n <3

did you know that there’s over 500 different species of sharks?

Lan <3

i didn’t know that, no. cool

y/n <3

OH ALSO

there’s a new girl at my work, she’s super nice

you should come meet her!

Lan <3

i might

10:35am | Saturday

Lan <3

you were right, Taylor is actually really nice

y/n <3

SEE? I TOLD YOU

me and her are gonna hang out on tuesday if you wanna come

Lan <3

sure

16:45pm | Wednesday

y/n <3

australia is wider than the moon

you should tell Oscar that

Lan <3

Taylor told me that

y/n <3

oh really? wow she really knows her facts!

Lan <3

yeah, she’s pretty smart

18:18pm | Saturday

y/n <3

do you wanna hang out?

i’m bored

Lan <3

i’m with Taylor rn

y/n <3

oh, nevermind then😊

12:25pm | Sunday

y/n <3

human teeth are the only body part that cannot heal themselves

Lan <3

i know, Taylor told me

y/n <3

it’s illegal to own just ONE guinea pig in switzerland

Lan <3

Taylor’s from Switzerland, she told me

17:34pm | Tuesday

y/n <3

the heart of the shrimp is located in the head!

Lan <3

the shrimps heart is located in the head

y/n <3

haha, we said the same thing!!

Lan <3

Taylor told me the fact, haha

y/n <3

ohh

9:27am | Thursday

y/n <3

do you have time? i really wanna talk about something

Lan <3

i’m with Taylor right now, but what’s up?

y/n <3

oh okay, nevermind then :)

17:26pm | Monday

Lan <3

octopuses are so weird, they’re cool looking though

y/n <3

i thought you hated octopuses?

Lan <3

i did before.

but Taylor told me some cool facts about them

y/n <3

i did that with sharks🙃

14:27pm | Friday

y/n <3

you’ve been hanging out with Taylor a lot

Lan <3

anything wrong?

y/n <3

nothings wrong, i just miss you

Lan <3

i’m not leaving you though.

y/n <3

no, i know

13:45pm | Wednesday

y/n <3

hiiii! do you wanna hang out?

hello?

read

16:56pm | Wednesday

Lan <3

sorry i was hanging out with Taylor

y/n <3

i know.

Lan <3

why are you mad?

y/n <3

i’m not?

Lan <3

why is it so wrong that i’m hanging out with her?

18:34pm | Sunday

y/n <3

you’re forgetting me.

lando

i’m not though?

hello?

answer me.

i’m not forgetting you.

14:30pm | Wednesday

y/n <3

you’re all i have, had.

lando

why are you using dots? don’t scare me

y/n <3

is Taylor all you needed?

lando

stop.

17:25pm | Tuesday

y/n <3

i’m sorry

lando

for what?

stop leaving me on read, please.

stop scaring me.

you’re not funny.

18:45pm | Thursday

lando

i miss you

i was dumb

i’m really sorry

Venus is the only planet to spin clockwise

i really wanted to tell you, i miss your facts. i love you. i hope one day we meet again

you could’ve told me about Taylor. i reread our messages, i saw that you needed me

i’m sorry

12:34pm | Sunday

lando

you looked really pretty at your funeral today

i miss you

pez candles were made for you, so you could stop smoking

i could smell it on you before, now i miss it.

3:34am | Tuesday

lando

sharks skin feels like sandpaper.

7:17am | Wednesday

lando

sharks are one of the oldest living species on the earth.

but you knew that, right?

——————————

this made me sob writing it😭

ib: this tiktok

masterlist | request page

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postersofleon · 1 year ago

Text

SEVEN

Leon had issues and you understood them. Tied in a world where he couldn't even trust his own government, where bioweapons are a common thing and mistrust is common. Breaking up with an alcoholic with the best option to have. However, when time passes, Chris decides to bring you to help with Leon's current crisis. When he sees you, he is ready to give endless promises now. Seven days to win you back.

notes: i maybe like pathetic men but healing is hotter. inspired by jungkook's seven. no assigned race to reader but afab and she/her pronouns for them. EDIT! um, future chapters will have smut

monday: loving you

tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday, saturday, sunday

Being an agent wasn't made for you. You spend nearly twelve years training your body, scars had now decorated your body- it wasn't fair that your life was dominated by the cruelty of the world. When Wesker died, you hoped and prayed to any living god that this was over, but it was a useless dream. And with what happened in your last mission. You were tired. You woke with night terrors and your boyfriend wasn't doing so hot either. All the way from Raccoon City, his mind was still traumatized by seeing death that Ada Wong became his worry. He needed to protect her despite her being able to do it herself.

You weren't jealous. No matter how many people warned you should, and trusting Leon didn't bring horrible consequences. That was until Leon pointed a gun on Chris.

No offense, but Ada wasn't worth making your life worse in the government's eyes. There was an uneasy silence now. Even Helena noticed it.

You couldn't date him. His drunkness was getting into a dangerous issue, and now his sense of what's wrong or right. You liked Ada. But unfortunately, despite being a mercenary, she always worked for the bad people. Combining that with his saviors complex. You didn't want to be selfish. It had been years. You dated Leon for years, but right now. Especially pointing a gun to someone who was promised to always stay by their side.

You couldn't trust Leon.

But you still loved him. That was no issue. Maybe you needed to heal as well.

Two years had passed. You were still working in the DSO, but for now, as a nurse who helped the injured agents. It was a suprise when you saw Chris and Rebecca enter your lair. You took off your gloves, "What brings you two here?"

Chris gave a small smile, "Um, well, we are trying to find Leon."

Your eyebrows furrowed, "Leon? Why ask?" You threw them to the trash. Wouldn't bring Jill be a better option considering that Leon was on vacation?

Rebecca cleared her throat, "He is... hard to find."

A small laugh escaped your lips, "Always is." Your arms crossed against your chest. Chris looked a bit disappointed from your words, but Rebecca looked determined with your laugh. "You know where he is?" Your eyes touched the ground before meeting Rebecca's.

"Of course I know where he is. He sends me texts."

Chris looked up, "I thought you two broke up." You nodded your head, "Yeah, but it makes him happy to tell me where he is." And you'll be avoiding his booty calls in this conversation.

"But you need to leave him alone. He is tired." You made sure they heard those words. Leon is exhausted. He needed a break from the life given to him. You turned around and gave them your back, "Everyone deserves to take a break." Your fingers tapped on the cold metal table.

"He needs you." Chris whispered softly.

You turned around to see him, "He needs comfort." You knew Leon way too much. It hurt you to say it because it felt true. "He finds comfort in the bottle more than he did with me." It was your bitterness just approaching over and over. You sighed deeply, trying to ignore your anger.

"If you need him so badly, I'll tell you where he is," You grabbed your phone and looked through all of his texts, "Here." You showed Chris and Rebecca. "Now leave me alone." Your fingers tapped repeatedly against the table, and before you can clear your thoughts you got a message from him.

You turned around to see Rebecca and Chris. You were probably stupid thinking an alcoholic could change his ways. "I'll go."

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #vendetta leon #leon kennedy angst

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daydream-cement · 1 year ago

Text

In The Library (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

A study date gone awry.

Author’s Note: Ahhhh!!! I’m posting this late and its FAR LONGER than expected. This is apart of Smutember with @alexusonfire! The prompt being library! Thank you to @tunarunes for the beta!

You had one plan for your college experience: to pass your classes and become a teacher. So when you began your teacher training classes and fell absolutely head over heels in love with a walking, breathing, white-haired goddess, your plans wavered slightly.

She walked into your ‘Intro to Education’ class with her head held high, looking like a pinup girl cut out of a magazine from the 1950s. Her confidence was intoxicating and you knew from that instant that you wanted all of her attention. You felt blessed when she sat in a seat right next to you.

She removed her notebook and pen from her bag and turned to you with an outstretched hand, “Larissa.”

“Oh, hi! I’m- Uh-” It took you a moment to recall your name as her eyes trained on your face left you without a discernible thought.

Your behavior caused the shapeshifter to laugh, her hand landing on your shoulder. Her eyes fell to your notebook where your name was written in the upper right hand corner. “Y/n?”

“Yes- Yes, I’m Y/n.” You sputtered, eyes unable to leave her beautiful face.

“Beautiful name…” Larissa hummed, her eyes looking you over before turning her attention onto the instructor.

Sometimes you thought you caught her looking at you from the corner of her eye, but you were sure it was your mind playing tricks on you. One class period you had answered a question in a particularly meaningful way and you caught the shapeshifter observing you with a sweet smile.

When she raised her hand and answered questions, she was so sure of herself. Desperately you wanted to at least be her friend.

Sometimes when you would talk about

classwork, Larissa would rest a hand on your shoulder or thigh. She would look at you with such intensity you thought you would simply pass away. To even have an ounce of her attention was all you craved.

Finally your opportunity to become friends came when your professor told the class you would need a partner for the upcoming research project. Your heart stopped beating when Larissa turned around in her chair and her eyes locked onto yours. She flashed you a smile and gestured with her hand as a way of asking if you wanted to be in a group with her. Your cheeks turned red and you nodded faster than you felt you should have.

After class she passed you a note with her name and phone number followed by a little smiley face. You felt as if you could combust. The grin on your face remained for a long while, making your cheeks ache.

You hadn’t waited long to text her, sending her your name with a text smiley face of your own. Larissa was quick to get down to business, asking you for your availability to meet in the library to work on the project sometime later that week. You were immediate in your reply, offering many times for you to meet.

By that evening you had a plan to meet Thursday night in the library to get started on your project, but the conversation hadn’t stopped there. Soon you were texting back and forth about hobbies and interests.

Larissa had even asked about the dating scene at the university, making it a point to tell you that she was struggling to find other lesbians at the school. Your heart was beating wildly when you informed her of your own sexuality. Her only response to your text was, ‘That’s perfect.’

All Tuesday and Wednesday you continued your conversations over text. Some messages even make you wonder if Larissa had been flirting with you. You tried brushing off a few messages of Larissa complementing your outfits.

Wednesday night’s messages became sultry when Larissa mentioned not being able to keep her hands off you if she had a partner that looked the way you did. You quickly returned the sentiment.

Y/n: Stop. You are so beautiful!!! I can’t even imagine being with a girl as beautiful as you.

Larissa: You’re too sweet.

Larissa: Sometimes I can’t stop myself from looking at you in class. The shirt you wore last week had me staring so hard 🫣

Y/n: Ahhh! I’m blushing. I was worried it was too much!

Larissa: No! Not too much! Left some to the imagination! 😊😉

Y/n: Oh wow! 🤭 Glad you liked it!

Larissa: Liked it? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it…

——

“Are you ready to get to work? I have a favorite spot on the third floor we can work at. No one ever goes there.” Larissa towered over you as she spoke. You couldn’t help yourself as you watched her lips form words. Your gaze was more noticeable than intended and your admiration made the shapeshifter smile.

“Yeah, that sounds, uh, great.” You squeak out, ready to follow Larissa to the ends of the earth.

“I’ve been looking forward to this project since I read the syllabus. I was thinking we could research~” Larissa continued on about her plans for the project, but your mind wandered as you watched her pretty face.

What you would give to have those blue hues focused on your face. It wasn’t until you tripped over yourself because you were blatantly not watching where you were going that Larissa paused her talking to look down at you. She rested a hand on your arm as she spoke, “You really must watch where you are going. Are you alright?”

Your face flushed at the physical contact and you gaped and stumbled over your words, “Oh, yeah… Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I’m good.”

“Perhaps you should stop staring at me to prevent yourself from falling on that pretty face.” Larissa giggled and drew her hand from your arm to tuck a bit of hair behind your ear. She then continued walking towards her secret spot in the library, leaving you behind to comprehend the interaction. Was Larissa Weems flirting with you?

When you caught up with Larissa, she took you to the far corner of the library where the shelves of books intersected just right to leave you tucked away with the utmost privacy.

“Isn’t it nice? Turns out many aren’t interested in the math textbooks they keep back here.” Larissa smirked as she observed her study nook, obviously pleased with herself.

“It’s very nice.” You agree, glancing about before settling into the seat across from Larissa. “Good find!”

“I’m certainly happy with it.”

The small talk shifted into conversation about the project. Quickly, Larissa took charge, divvying up the assignment so you could more efficiently finish the work.

About ten minutes into researching the benefits of outdoor extracurriculars for students, you felt one of Larissa’s shoes poke your foot under the table. You glanced up at her, but she was still working diligently on her own portion of the project.

When you looked back down at your computer, the footsie started up once more. You allowed it to continue for a few moments before glancing up to her face once more, only now Larissa was smirking. Her eyes turned upwards onto yours and your mouth went dry at the sultry darkness in her eyes.

“I need your help with this slide. Could you come look at this?” Larissa’s mouth formed into a small pout as she asked her question.

You pop up from your seat and circle the table, leaning over her shoulder to examine the PowerPoint slide on her screen. You hold out a hand and begin pointing to different settings to help her through the error, but when Larissa didn’t make a move to solve the issue, you glanced down at her to see what was the matter. She had her eyes trained in on you, her lips darting out and wetting her lips as she stared at your own.

“Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“Is everything okay?”

“I was just thinking…”

“Thinking what?”

“What it would be like to kiss you.”

The brazenness of the statement had you floored. Your eyes were wide and your lips parted slightly as you tried to come up with a reply.

“Would you like that?”

A small whimper accidentally escaped your throat, making the shapeshifter smile. Her hand reached up to the back of your neck, pulling you down with a jerk, and sending your lips crashing into hers.

She held you like that for a few moments. Long enough for your hands to shift to her cheeks so she couldn’t pull away as easily.

When you finally did part, Larissa chuckled and gripped your forearm, pulling you to her side as she backed her chair out from under the table. In an instant, she pulled you down towards her lap. You instinctively shifted to straddle her, not questioning anything that was happening all so fast.

“I’ve noticed you looking at me in class. You’re cute, you know that?”

“I- I- You are so…”

“Yes, darling?” Larissa’s arms circled you to pull your body flush against hers. Her face fell into your neck, kissing your collarbone to your pulse point.

“Beautiful. You are so beautiful.”

“Thank you, sweetheart… Would you want to take a break from the project for a bit?” Larissa questioned, her hands squeezing your sides as a precursor of what was to come.

You nodded quickly and dove back down to her lips, needing more than the few second kiss from earlier. Larissa was happy to offer more passion by opening her mouth slightly, offering her tongue to you. Your tongues battled and you held one another close, hands tugging at one another’s clothes in search of more proximity than what was physically possible.

Larissa was kissing you until you were gasping for breath. You fought the urge to pinch yourself, worried this was all just a wonderful dream.

She parted the kiss for a moment to breathe out a question, “Can I touch you more?”

“Please…” You moan as you start pressing kisses along Larissa’s jawline.

The shapeshifter’s impatience was showing when she maneuvered her hand between your bodies and slipped it in the waistband of your pants. You felt her smile against your neck when she discovered how wet you already were for her. The floodgates had opened earlier when she had pressed kisses against your jugular.

“You feel so good…” Larissa whispered as her middle and forefinger began exploring your cunt, focusing in on your clit after a short while.

You were putty in her hands, whimpering softly into her neck. You knew you needed to remain quiet. This study session had evolved into something far out of the realm of what you thought to be possible. Larissa had been craving you the way you craved her.

“Sometimes I think about this in class… making you come on my fingers…”

The statement made you groan softly. You always imagined her to be such a diligent student, but knowing she was daydreaming such filthy thoughts pushed you towards your orgasm.

“Do you think about me too?” Larissa asked, her breath soft in your ear.

“Mhmm…”

“When I touch myself, I think about getting on my knees for you… I bet you taste so good…” She made herself moan from the dirty talk mixed with the barely audible wet noises emitted from your cunt. Larissa’s arm ached from the strange angle, but she wasn’t ready to relent. She needed to push you over the edge first.

The shapeshifter leaned forward in her chair, pinning you back to the table to give her enough leverage to change her arm positioning enough to push two fingers into your aching cunt. The heel of her hand continued working against your clit, but the sensation was faint enough to cause your hips to buck and grind against her hand frantically.

Larissa chuckled and gave you what you wanted by pumping her fingers harder and faster. Your moans and whimpers came more freely as it became harder to control the volume of your voice.

She began sucking at the flesh of your neck, completely pushing you over the edge. It drove you wild that a mark would be left behind from the woman you were absolutely smitten with.

A low groan escaped your throat and you muffled the cry by capturing Larissa’s lips with yours. The kiss was rough and desperate which only made the shapeshifter moan in return.

You remained quiet in her lap for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of her arms wrapping around you once more. Her face dropped into your neck, leaving soft kisses as she told you over and over how beautiful she found you to be. You made your crush known by quietly admitting all of the sweet daydreams you had about dating her.

Larissa pulled her face from your neck, tucking hair behind both of your ears. Her hands fell back to your waist and her eyes admiring your face. “Would you like to get something to eat and come back to my place?”

“I would love that…”

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @teashock, @enchantressb, @alex-nyx, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @scream-queenlover, @shyladyfan , @lilfartbox1, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems, @sicklygrlsicklygrl, @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @principal-weems09, @emilynissangtr, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @dumbasslesbi, @oculusalien, @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @milciak, @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @h-doodles, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @bychrissi, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @kimiinou

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems smut #principal weems #principal larissa weems #nevermore academy #wednesday netflix #fanfic #oneshot #gwendoline christie #smut #principal weems x reader #gwen christie

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