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chobunz · 1 month ago

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── jay’s body. ( pjs ) 🔪

๑ A string of gruesome murders have been plaguing your small town with fear, there hasn’t been many leads on who this unnamed killer could be but never in a million years would you suspect that it was someone you were so close to…

pair/genre: popular jock!jay ㅊ nerdy!f!reader, dead dove do not eat, college au, jennifer’s body au | warnings: horror, pwp, angst, smut, humor/dark jokes, set in the late 2000’s, jay is your childhood best friend, yandere/incubus!jay, mentions of depression/anxiety, childhood trauma, graphic descriptions of death and violence, gore, cheating, manipulation tactics, dub-con, virginity loss, d/s dynamics, piv, fingering, oral (m + f. rec), rough s.x, biting, slight knife play, unprotected s.x, breeding kink | words: 18.3k+ (holy shit i’m insane..)

**please heed ALL warnings before reading, i am not responsible for the content you consume !!

[ song inspo: mascara, do you believe, & cherry waves by deftones ]

this is a really long one compared to all of my other fics ! i’m happy with the outcome of this so i hope you all like it !! i poured way too much time and effort into this writing so reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <33 big thank you to the loml @p4ranormaluv for beta-ing my fic, ilysm muahh

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“you should come.” jay’s figure hovered over your desk, his face so unbearably close to yours that one wrong move could lead to both of your lips accidentally colliding. “please y/n? it’ll be fun, i promise !” his former pout returns to guilt trip you even further.

you stood your ground and shook your head, leaning back into the chair for more breathing room. this wasn’t something out of the ordinary for him, jay constantly invaded your personal space, never believing in boundaries when it came to you— and he’d get even more obnoxious by persistently asking to hang outside of classes.

“no jay, i already told you before that i have homework to do..” you remind him yet again for the umpteenth thousand time, as if he didn’t already know that, not bothering to put much thought into considering his dumb little offer.

for the past hour or so he’s been bugging you about going to some dive bar downtown with him. it seems a lot of people were attending since a locally known indie girl band, ‘sweet venom’, is going to be performing there tonight. jay would always rave about their music once he discovered them on myspace, growing quite the infatuation with the lead singer in particular. you really weren’t all that interested in going, you weren’t even a fan, plus you had way more important things to worry about. and besides, concerts weren’t your thing anyway, you’ve always hated large crowds— gives you an inducing amount of anxiety.

“ugh, why’re you so lamee, it’s like you’re allergic to fun..” he whines, dragging out his words which only made him sound even more immature. he’d never miss a beat to poke fun at you for being such a goody two shoes. “we’re not getting any younger y/n, keep going at this rate and you’re bound to end up an old, shriveled up cat lady who’s gonna die a miserable virgin !”

his snarky comments about your dry sex life didn’t phase you as much as they used to, but after a while you do get sick of hearing them all the time. to be frank, you aren’t even sure why you and jay were still such close friends, maybe it’s because of the deep rooted history you two share, dating all the way back to when you were in kindergarten; or simply could be the fact that no matter what, jay refused to never leave your side— ever.

you’ve had one too many disagreements and blown out of proportion arguments with him over the years, yet he’s never held any of those things against you, it’s practically a clean slate the next day. you’ll never understand why he’s so adamant on keeping this friendship alive when you’re just so vastly different from each other. he’s athletic, outgoing, extremely popular amongst his peers— and especially with women, of course.

jay will never admit it out loud, but he’s always enjoyed being the center of attention, not to mention he was blessed with a well above average face that he used to his advantage quite a bit. he’d often came off as pretty arrogant and crude to most people, he honestly had no filter when it came to voicing his own opinions; but that was the allure of him, made his charm even more magnetic to the dozens of girls who’d fawn over him on a daily basis. he acted as though all eyes weren’t on him, yet he secretly relished it. if he wasn’t stroking his own ego, best believe there’d be someone who would.

you glare at him, wishing he’d just shut up already and go bother someone else for a change, but you know that’ll never happen in this lifetime. “i’m actually in a very loving and committed relationship.. so i rebuke that statement, thank you very much !” you quickly fire back, gathering your textbooks and other supplies, shoving them into the compartments of your black messenger bag.

“soo, i’m guessing mark’s dick isn’t really all that satisfying enough for you ? ‘cause you still act hella cranky all the time… must not be that good,” jay couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, deciding to further agitate you. “oh, who am i kidding.. you probably haven’t even let that bastard kiss you yet.”

if you weren’t so mentally drained from the 6 hours you’ve just endured of back to back classes, you’d be beating his ass to a pulp right here and now. “we’re taking things slow !” you defend yourself once more, lifting from the chair as you’re about to head out the door, to which jay follows behind to continue his rampant taunting spree.

“it’s been 6 months y/n, how much more ‘slow’ can you take it ?” a group of girls wave at him as you walked through the corridor, but he ignores it and keeps walking like the pretentious asshole he is. “bet the dude gets blue balls everytime he sees you.”

you stopped dead in your tracks for a second, turning around to face him only to be met with a smug grin settled on his lips. the fact he gets such a kick out of constantly teasing you made it all the more aggravating, but eventually you caved in, as per usual.

“ugh, fine.. what time is it ?” you inquire, watching how he instantly lit up at your question. you knew he would’ve been moping and complaining for the rest of the day if you didn’t go with him. anything to get him to finally shut up..

“it starts at 9 but i’ll pick you up at 8:30 !” jay caged his arm around your waist, pulling you into a half hug. “oh, and make sure to wear something good.” he quickly adds.

“um.. i always wear good clothes ??” a scoff leaves your lips, slightly offended by his critique of your clothing choices.

“really ?” he spoke sarcastically, eyeing the oversized crewneck sweatshirt you wore with cats printed all over, “this isn’t middle school anymore, it wouldn’t kill you to show a little bit of cleavage once in a while.”

you flat out ignore his comments. not even wanting to entertain his bullshit anymore, if anything it would only lead to a petty argument that’ll sour your mood for the whole day. you’ve learned the hard way that sometimes— well most of the time, letting jay say whatever he wants was the best option, which is why he always gets away with it. he’s always been the more domineering one of the friendship, whilst you just sat back and let his menacing behavior go unchecked. you hated that you were such a pushover when it came to him but you’d rather just let it go than have a full blown argument that could potentially lead to him having an irrational outburst.

“i gotta go find mark, i’ll see ya later.” your mind shifts back to thinking about your boyfriend who was most likely waiting for you out in the courtyard.

“ew, whatever bye.” a look of faux disgust bestowed on jay’s features, there was no inherent issue he had with mark— just didn’t really like the guy. he felt as though he was slowly being replaced by him, which is why he latched onto you even more than ever.

once you said your final goodbyes and parted ways, you head down a long flight of stairs to go search for your boyfriend. eventually catching him off in the distance as he’s sat on a bench outside, immediately going up to hug him.

“hey babe,” mark happily greets as you embraced him, embedding a kiss to your cheek, “missed you.”

“hey, sorry i showed up kinda late.. got a little sidetracked on my way to you,” you make up a quick lie as you don’t wanna fully admit that jay was the reason for your semi-tardiness.

“got any plans tonight pretty lady ?” he asks with his arm looped around your shoulder as you sat beside him, he was hoping to spend more time with you since you’ve been so cooped up in the library studying for upcoming exams.

“well… yeah, kinda. i’m going to this concert thingy with jay tonight.” there you go, not even a minute in of seeing your boyfriend you’re already bringing him up. it’s always jay, jay, jay— this was really beginning to irritate him.

“oh..” he sighs, visibly tensing up every time he hears that dreaded name slip from your mouth. he knew this was how it usually went down, whenever he asks to spend time with you somehow jay would always beat him to it. mark truly felt like your so called ‘best friend’ was the main perpetrator of sabotaging this relationship.

“we can still hang out for a bit before that !” you suggest, attempting to try and lighten the atmosphere, but mark still wasn’t too thrilled to hear that you were going to be with jay for the whole night instead of him.

you know that mark never really liked jay, and jay also never really liked mark either. it was an odd, unspoken tension between the two but you couldn’t quite seem to put your finger on how or why it all started. mark was more adjacent to your personality, you’re both bookworms, lovers of all things pertaining to math and science, and you lived in the same honor’s apartment complex, which only housed the smartest students of the whole university. jay however… he was a spitting image of everything you strived not to be. rebellious, put very minimal if at all any effort into his studies, was borderline narcissistic, and easily irritable around others. it was like a ticking time bomb with him, you never knew exactly when he’d go off.

“yeah only for like two hours..” mark sulked in discontent, sinking lower into the seat. “you always do whatever jay tells you to do, it’s like you don’t have a mind of your own sometimes.. feels like you enjoy being with jay more than me..”

“that’s not true !” you fire back, “he’s my best friend.. that’s it. you know you mean the world to me,” you anxiously express, fidgeting with the silver, heart-shaped friendship necklace that you and jay both had since elementary school. “my roommate should be gone, i have the whole place to myself, come !” quickly, you grab his hand to lead the way back to your place.

“agh.. okay, better be lucky that you’re cute..” mark jokingly adds, letting you pull him away to the next destination.

๑ ๑ ๑

“so.. which one is he stalking online again ?” mark asks out of curiosity, comfortably sat on top of your bed, referring to jay’s new obsession with this girl band.

“the lead singer of this band, he said she’s like ‘100% his type’ or something, i dunno.” you said nonchalantly, skimming through your wardrobe in hopes of finding an outfit that jay would approve of, you couldn’t dress too revealing as it would only attract unwanted attention from random creeps, but you also didn’t want to present as too “modest” as you’ll only get teased even more than you already were by your best friend.

“huh.. interesting..” he slightly nods, reaching over to play with one of your stuffed bears that you’ve had since childhood. “i still don’t get why he couldn’t just go with someone else or by himself. he doesn’t need you there..”

you don’t answer, instead you were too preoccupied with trying on various tops, unsatisfied with most until you find a dark purple top that was a bit more form fitting. it showed your midriff just a little bit but it wasn’t too much that it would deem as “slutty”, at least in your humble book of opinions. checking yourself out in the vanity mirror to see how you look, you paired the top with some light wash flared jeans that you bought recently while out at the mall with jay.

you weren’t too keen on buying them at first but he’d convinced you to get them anyway. standing in front of your reflection, you barely recognized yourself. you don’t normally wear these types of styles but according to jay, you have to wear ‘good clothes’ so you kind of felt obligated to. finishing off the look, you took off your glasses, replacing them with contacts that you rarely wore, you’ve always hated that you struggled to put them in but it wasn’t so bad this time around.

“um, do you really have to wear such low rise jeans..? i can see your womb for pete’s sake !” mark sounded reminiscent of an overbearing dad the way he voiced his concerns, it was safe to say that he was definitely not a fan of this new look you were going for.

you playfully brushed him off, “quit being so dramatic, you’re just not used to seeing me like this is all !” you giggle at his overprotective nature, suddenly hearing a loud knock at your door from downstairs, “oh- that must be jay !”

you hummed a soft tune as you make your way down the stairs, swinging the door open to your best friend who’s grinning ear to ear, throwing your arms around his shoulders to embrace him in a hug.

“i see you actually took my advice,” jay says proudly, staring down your whole body as he examines your outfit, “we good to go ?” he asks, looking effortlessly cool in a pair of ripped black jeans and a white graphic tee that he bought from spencer’s.

“yup, i think so !” you nod in content, quickly grabbing your high-top converse that laid on the floor, they were a little beat up and had doodles all over them all because jay got bored one day and decided to scribble on the shoes without your knowledge. it added more character to them you suppose…

“i’d really appreciate if you stopped kidnapping my girlfriend all the time.” mark grumbles in annoyance, heading downstairs to kiss you goodbye. he possessively grabs ahold of your waist to show jay that he wasn’t the only man in your life that you adored— he hated that this has now become an unfriendly competition of who could gain your attention more.

jay scoffs, paying him little to no mind. “it isn’t kidnapping if she’s willingly going on her own accord, right ?” he said in his usual cocky tone, mark was getting more agitated by the second, if this were an animation, steam would’ve definitely been blowing out of his ears right now.

“listen dipshit i’ve had—”

“ok knock it off you two, enough !” you cut your boyfriend off before he could go any further, “you guys really need to stop, seriously..”

jay’s demeanor softens the minute he hears your voice, as if you’ve snapped him out of a trance, “he’s just jelly ‘cause he’s not invited, let’s go.” he links arms with yours whilst heading out the door, faintly hearing the jingle of his car keys clashing together as he swung them around with his free hand.

a part of you feels like you’ve created this whole mess between them, you’ve noticed this mini rivalry ever since you began dating mark. jay has never been one to give newcomers the warmest of welcomes, he’s constantly had this protective and territorial nature towards you, was just how he is. though sometimes, he’d take things a step too far. whenever he feels like you’re slowly drifting apart from him, he does everything in his power to drive a wedge between you and the other existing person. you and jay have always been a tight knit duo— a packaged deal if you will; and he isn’t too fond of other’s being added into the mix, he’d try convincing you that all you needed was each other— no one else ever mattered.

that was until you met your boyfriend mark of course, jay rarely ever conversed with him nor was he ever all that kind to him, but you managed to still work things out regardless of your best friend’s disapproval. in more blunt terms, you don’t think jay would’ve approved of anyone you date, he was harder to please than your own father and that in itself spoke volumes… on the contrary, you wouldn’t have much of an issue if jay were to magically show up with a girlfriend one day, but within these past two decades of knowing him you’ve never seen him date a single soul, he could literally have any girl he wanted, hell, they were practically lining up to even be near him. yet he didn’t bother giving one of them the time of day, he preferred his own solitude; except when he’s around you, that is.

๑ ๑ ๑

you had no idea what to anticipate when arriving to this place, but soon as you and jay walked into the establishment, you were invited with a completely different atmosphere than you expected. the way jay kept talking about this place you’d assume it’d be more of a nightclub ambiance but it was more or less like your average, run-of-the-mill bar where everyone went to watch the sports game on the weekend. sure there were a lot of people here but it just wasn’t the overall kind of vibe you mesh with. from it’s dingy, beer stained walls, to the generic pop music that blared through the speakers, there was a pool table in the corner occupied by a bunch of frat boys you recognized from school. your eyes landed on your past crush heeseung, who you never confessed to but still silently admired from afar to this day. you thought he was way out of your league, plus he was already dating someone else which made you harbor those secrets even deeper.

you sat at an empty booth, flipping open your phone to text mark who’s been asking nonstop if everything’s okay, though you’ve told him multiple times not to worry. there were a few girls who tried talking to jay but he seemed quite unamused by them, his mission was to talk to this band that he was fangirling over, you’ve never seen him this excited over anything.

“come with me,” jay suddenly pulls you out of your seat, making you go towards the front of the stage with him. he was smiling like an idiot, walking up to them confidently as he always did. there were a total of 5 women, all dressed in various types of leather and spikes, black filled their waterlines to look more edgy, their teased hair stayed in place with the shit ton of hairspray they used— pretty much your stereotypical rock band aesthetic. whether it was intentional or not, you didn’t know, but they definitely didn’t seem like the approachable type.

jay makes the first move, introducing himself along with your presence. “hi, i’m jay and this is my best friend y/n, i’m a huge fan of you guys ! i’m surprised you came out all the way here, aren’t you from the city ?” he sounded like such a groupie, you never took him as someone to kiss up to others, but there’s a first time for everything you suppose.

a woman with fluorescent pink hair spoke, you assumed it was the lead singer of the band since she held a microphone in her hand, “nice to meet you, i’m scarlett, but you can call me scar. yeah.. we’re a bit far out but we like to connect with fans all over, gotta start somewhere y’know?” jay nods, looking at her as if she held the key to a world he’s never seen before.

“can i buy you a drink ? the options are pretty slim but there’s these red and blue drinks that i think are kinda good. gotta drink ‘em fast though or else they turn this weird brownish color…” jay asks, hoping to give off the impression he’s older than he actually is.

“sure, thanks.” she replied, winking at him as she prepares to set up for the performance.

“great, i’ll be back right !” he turns around in a flash, tagging you along with him for the journey.

“uh, jay we aren’t over 21 yet..” you remind him, confused as how he was going to even pull this off, but he shuts down your doubtful attitude.

“i think you underestimate just how easily i can get anyone to do anything for me y/n.” he makes his way over to the bar with a confident stride, not even sweating the fact he may or may not be denied.

as jay was busy getting the drinks you overheard the lead singer, scarlett aka scar, talking to the bassist, you couldn’t help but get closer to eavesdrop on their conversation once you heard your best friend’s name being dropped mid convo.

“yeah that guy’s definitely a virgin, he talks big game but i know he doesn’t get girls..” she giggles to them. your brows furrowed in slight confusion and anger, not only was he being overly friendly with them but they were taking his kindness as a sign of weakness.

“hey that’s my friend you’re talking about, bitch !” you intervened, quickly coming to his defense, “whether he is one or not, it’s none of your damn business and he’s sure as hell not going to sleep with some washed up skanks like you.” you couldn’t believe those words even came out your mouth, but when it came to jay, you weren’t just going to sit back and let them talk about him like that.

“what’s going on ?” jay interrupts, coming back with the drinks as he noticed a sudden shift in your behavior.

“they were just talking about you !” you point over to the girls, still fuming with rage, “they said you were a virgin !”

“oh.. i mean does getting sucked off in the locker rooms by half the cheer team count ??” he jokes, snickering to himself when he remembers that moment.

you face palm, “that’s not the point, jay !” you were genuinely getting upset, why would it even matter if he was one or not ? why were they so hung up on knowing that to begin with ?

before you could say anything else or speculate any further, the lights suddenly dimmed, and the band introduces themselves to the crowd that was formed around you. scar went on a whole spiel about how they’re so grateful to be here and saying how they hope to bring more fans with this performance, they were promoting their new single, ‘bloody roses’ which you thought was a pretty corny and cliché title but nonetheless you were only here in support of your friend.

as the band started playing their first song, everyone began head banging to the music, including jay who was more than excited to be here. maybe it was because of the previous encounter you just had with them, but the music wasn’t necessarily hitting for you. it wasn’t the genre per se, you enjoyed bands such as hole, nirvana, and metallica, but they just seemed like complete rip offs of those said bands. it seemed like you were the only one who thought this way considering everyone else was vibing around you— especially jay who was singing along to every lyric word for word. you seriously couldn’t wait for this night to be over with..

not even ten minutes later, you heard a blood curdling scream off in the distance. your body stilled with uncertainty, wondering what could’ve possibly triggered such harrowing emotions, yet that was soon dissolved once you saw the burst of flames invading your vision. a rush of panic kicks in as you finally register what exactly was going on and the only thing on your mind was to get the hell out of here. everyone else had the same idea as you, bodies scrambling left and right, hurriedly trying to find an entry to freedom. you checked to see if jay was following behind you still but he wasn’t, he was gone. and so was the band.

you shouted his name as loud as you could, eyes becoming bleary whilst trying to find the nearest exit, pushing all the other attendees out of the way as the only thing you cared about in this moment was getting to safety and finding jay. you remembered that the bathrooms had a small window so you made a mad dash to the stalls, praying to god that you’d be able to fit through.

surprisingly there was no one else there, grabbing a step stool from the corner to help you climb up and ease your way out. profusely coughing from the smoke that lingered underneath the door, you use all your strength to pry the window open, body running solely off adrenaline. relief washes over you when you’re able to successfully get it to crack just enough to squeeze your body through, gasping for oxygen once you’re finally met with the outside world again.

you looked back and see that the entire bar is now ablaze– with people still inside. you watched as parts of the building collapsed, crumbling to the ground as more people were coming out. you’ve never witnessed anything more horrifying, hearing the cries of others shouting for help as they were locked in with no way out. some were so badly burned that they looked unrecognizable, their scorched skin bubbling from the third degree burns. you couldn’t bear to see such chaos but you couldn’t look away. this sight was going to be engrained into your memory for the rest of your life..

anxiety struck through you when you realize jay was still nowhere to be seen, you still had your cellphone in your pocket which you debated on calling 911, but you assumed they’d already be on the way with paramedics. you were surprised to have even made it out alive, but you hoped to god that jay was also able to escape the inferno. when an arm reaches out to suddenly grab your wrist, your first reaction was to scream loudly. still suffering from the shock of what you just experienced.

“chill the fuck out, it’s just me y/n!” you instantly recognized jay’s voice, turning around to face him. you couldn’t believe it was really him, completely unscathed just like you. you immediately wrap your arms around him, holding him tighter than ever before. you’d be able to rest easy now knowing that you two were perfectly okay.

“i was looking for you, had me worried sick !” your eyes brimmed with tears again, but it was more so tears of happiness. you wouldn’t know what you’d do if you didn’t have your best friend with you anymore.

“i’m sorry… we should’ve stuck together. i didn’t mean to abandon you..” he didn’t sound like his usual self, this time he was more frantic, just as much in shock as you were.

“oh thank god you two are alright !” scar, the singer of that shitty band runs up to the both of you, “you guy’s should come back to my van, it’s safer there.” she proposes, helping you back up on your feet as you were too weak to do so on your own.

you shook your head at that idea. “no way, i’m getting out of here, come on jay!” you grab his hand but he doesn’t follow along.

“actually, i think i’m gonna go with them..” he says, letting go of your hand to head towards the van with the other girls.

“are you crazy ?!” you couldn’t believe he’d choose them over you, even if he was a huge fan, it still didn’t make sense for him to leave with them rather than his own damn best friend. you felt betrayed.

“look i’m in survival mode just as much as you right now, we gotta get going before anything else happens !” scarlett rushes to the driver’s side whilst the others hopped in the back along with jay, who seemed perfectly fine with getting in a vehicle with some random strangers he just met.

you’re steady calling after him but he doesn’t listen nor budge, simply watching as the van speeds off. knowing deep down in your gut that something awful was going to ensue…

๑ ๑ ๑

it’s been two painstakingly long hours and still no call or text from jay. the worry was only building up inside you. what if something bad really did happen ? what if he needed your help and you left him all alone to fend for himself ? the guilt was slowly starting to eat you up, consuming your already troubled mind. but then again, you thought you may be overthinking as you usually do. he was probably having the time of his life, probably even went to some after party with them. the betrayal of him leaving you still lingered in your thoughts. how could he have done this to you ? maybe he really was the selfish jerk that mark always painted him out to be. but maybe you were just as bad for letting him leave like that. you should’ve been more assertive, now you won’t be getting any sleep tonight until you know for sure that jay will be fine.

you decide to call mark, needing to get all of this off your chest before you drove yourself anymore mentally insane than you already are. he picked up on the last ring, assuming that he was most likely asleep by now.

“hello ?” the sound of his sleepy voice gave you a sense of comfort, which is exactly what you needed at this time.

“hey..” you spoke softly, unsure of what to even say right now. you didn’t want to say anything straight away, you had to lean in towards that kind of conversation first.

“how was the concert ?” he asks, yawning as he kept talking.

you paused for a second, knowing that you’ll worry him the minute you finally express what happened hours ago. “there was a fire...”

“what ?!” there was absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for that, now he’s the one in full-blown panic mode.

“yeah..” was all you said in return, still trying to wrap your head around everything. the mental image of all those people still trapped inside, unknowing of their indefinite fate will forever stick with you.

“holy fuck.. you’re okay, right ?!” you could hear his body shifting under the sheets as he fully woke up from hearing this tragic news. he would’ve never been able to forgive himself had you not survived, he’d spend all of eternity blaming himself for it.

“yeah.. i’m fine. there was a stampede, you could hear their bones breaking and people running out the building as they were still on fire.. i don’t even wanna know how many didn’t make it out..” you felt sick to your stomach, you should’ve done more to help but all you thought about was saving yourself, how selfish…

“fuck.. i’m so sorry you had to see that y/n, i’m just really glad that you were able to get out of there…”

“jay left with that band but i told him not to.. he hasn’t spoken to me since then and i’m really worried, we have to go save him !” you couldn’t shake this ominous feeling that something went horribly wrong, you had to trust your instincts on this one.

“who cares about jay ! people died !” mark was baffled by how you were still only thinking about him when the main person you should be worrying about is yourself.

he then proceeded to go on an endless tirade about how horrible of a friend jay is and that he knew he shouldn’t have let you go there with someone as untrustworthy as him. you just “okay” and “alright” your way out of everything he said, but you still had this deep inkling that you were right and you need to be there to rescue him. there was no real proof that he’d be in any danger, but something just seemed so off about that group as a whole..

that’s when you heard the sudden buzz of your doorbell, thinking it may just be your roommate who forgot her key, though it was quite late and you wouldn’t expect her to be coming back around at this time of night. you stilled in your bed, internally debating whether or not you should go down there to investigate; but you ultimately decide to do so anyway.

“shh, wait— mark i think i hear someone at the door...” you tell him as you hesitantly get up, putting on your bunny slippers and slipping on a robe before slowly creaking the door open.

“who is it?” he asks, just as confused as you were.

“i-i don’t know.. that’s what i’m trying to find out..” you whisper, heading into the hallway, producing quiet footsteps as you held onto the railing that lead downstairs.

the air around you felt suffocating, only met with a grim silence whilst putting one foot in front of the other. each step you took became increasingly more cautious, you had no idea why you were such a nervous wreck or why you thought there’d be an imminent threat lurking your way, but the way your heart was thudding rapidly out of your chest made your flight or fight senses fly off the radar.

finally making it to the door, you suck in a bated breath, swallowing the thick lump that sat in the back of your throat. your hands shakily curled around the shiny knob but the minute you open it you’re left feeling even more uneasy as there wasn’t anything nor anyone at your doorstep. just pitch black darkness greeting you, along with the chilling sound of trees rustling through the wind. a heavy, lingering fog accompanied the atmosphere, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine.

you were puzzled, feeling as though someone was playing a sick joke on you. you could’ve sworn you heard it, unless you really were going crazy after all. you knew that you were a little loose around the edges, but there’s no way that you could’ve made that up— it was far too realistic. soon as you were about to brush this whole thing off and chalk it up as just a freak accident, your ears detected faint shuffling, movement coming from a far distance. this time coming from inside the confines of your own home.

…what in the actual fuck is going on right now ?

“i just heard something from the kitchen..” you made sure to keep your voice low, mind and body riddled with the fear of the unknown as you clutched onto the phone harder than ever. you couldn’t see much of anything, but you followed whatever the hell was making all that commotion.

“don’t go near it ? what the fuck, that’s horror movie 101 knowledge. never go to the noise !” mark warns but you don’t take his advice, instead you slowly crept into the living room, remaining vigilant of every move you take.

the noise only grew louder and since you knew that your roommate wasn’t here, this only made your panic heighten, afraid that there may be a possible intruder. carefully stepping into the kitchen without making a sound, your hands scramble to find the switch, turning on the light to reveal the cause of your worry. the noise stopped the minute you were able to see again, and an instant sigh of relief leaves you once you notice it was just a leaky faucet, screwing the handle to shut it back in place. but that relief would soon deem itself short lived when you hear that same cacophony of sounds from earlier, again.

you spun around to see your fridge wide open, and someone actively rummaging through it. your body froze in place, simply unable to move no matter how hard you tried to relax your muscles. it was as if something were controlling you, telling you not to move an inch; like it was protecting you from whatever may be on the other side. scraps of food met the tiled floors, containers and cartons being tossed and thrown in a rampage. as the refrigerator finally came to a close, you were more than shocked to see that it was none other than jay, who’s covered in dried blood from head to toe.

“mark.. i’ll call you back i gotta go..” you muttered quickly to your boyfriend, feeling the need to tend to your friend who’s clearly not in the best of conditions right now.

“what?! no, don’t hang up y/n, please don-” you hang up on him before he could even finish. you were slowly able to regain your strength again, tiptoeing towards the boy who hasn’t even bothered to look up at you yet.

he looked more than unwell, as if he had just survived the most brutal attack of his life. his actions resembled nothing of a human, watching as he mindlessly consumed whatever he could find in his wake. he came across a pack of raw chicken that you’ve yet to open, savagely tearing through it, devouring the meat with his bare hands. you weren’t sure how to react to any of this, but you knew that he was exhibiting anything but normal behavior.

“what are you doing ?!” you finally broke the quietness that filled the room, but you were met with no response in return.

upon hearing your startled voice, he stopped eating and averts his gaze to you. his eyes were soulless, no emotion throughout him whatsoever, looking at you as if he’s never seen you before. instead of getting up he crawls over to you, still refusing to utter a single word. your lips part to speak again but you notice a shift in his odd aura, he began coughing in the most grotesque way possible, as if he were trying to get something to leave out of his body. that’s when he starts to profusely vomit, everywhere. it wasn’t just any normal vomit though, it was a black, spiny fluid, spread all over the tiles and even spilling onto your clothes.

“jay what the hell’s wrong with you ?!” you yell at him but it was no use. he was never going to answer you, it was like he was possessed by some kind of spirit.

he finally got up on his feet, never breaking eye contact with you, his dark pupils pierced through you like the sharp edge of a butcher knife. jay could smell the fear you emitted, it only made him want to gravitate towards you more. the only sane option that ran through your mind was to call the police, taking several steps backward from his presence, but of course he doesn’t let you do that. he only moves faster, pushing you up against the wall with superhuman aggression. he grabs ahold of your wrist tightly, forcing you to drop your phone, a loud thud produced as it made contact with the ground. he remained silent throughout the whole ordeal, flashing you an eerie smile, only a hairs breadth away from meeting your plush lips.

you whimpered in fear, but he keeps shushing you, petting the crown of your head like you were a crying, wounded animal in need. “are you scared?” he whispers into you ear, already knowing the answer to that. he only continues to taunt you, licking a long, slow paced stripe along the base of your neck, coating his saliva onto your soft, shivering skin.

he wouldn’t go any further than that, simply letting go of you and backing away as if he just now was able to acknowledge what he’s done. his breathing grew heavier, unable to even look at you, it felt as though he couldn’t control his own body anymore. before you could do anything, he swiftly heads out of the back door, leaving without a trace.

“jay !” you try to call after him, but to no avail, you were left all alone, traumatized for the second time of the night.

you’ve went through the five stages of grief all in under a minute, unsure of what to even do in this moment. you’re standing here, confused, overwhelmed, and mortified— but now there’s black vomit all over your kitchen floor and on yourself. you weeped again, hopelessly trying to piece together the fragments of what the fuck just happened moments ago.

๑ ๑ ๑

the next day everyone’s talking about the fire at school. many were mourning the losses of their precious loved ones, sobbing uncontrollably from the horrific events that occurred from the night before. you sat in physics class with jay, who acted as if nothing even happened last night, carrying on as he normally did. your professor mr. choi, took a moment to speak about what happened, mentioning the saddening news that took place not even 24 hours ago. what was even more odd was that jay was smirking the entire time, attempting to hold in his laughter as he heard the professor speak, you hit his arm in response of his apathy.

“this isn’t funny..” you scold him for being so insensitive, “people died, jay ! it’s all over the news, we even made it internationally…”

he rolls his eyes, “yeah, so? people die everyday y/n, they’re not special. i’ll give it a week max and i bet you no one will be talking about it anymore.”

how could he even say something like that ? especially knowing that he knew some of the people who passed away, your beloved peers who fought for their lives at the very last seconds of being alive. it was more than insensitive, it was just plain cruel.

“what’s wrong with you ?!” you looked at him as if he’s gone mad, which he quite literally has considering what took place at your apartment last night. you haven’t mentioned it to him yet but you were reluctant on doing so, he’d probably deny everything anyway.

“what’s wrong with you ?? god.. did someone piss in your cereal this morning?” he wasn’t even remotely phased by anything you were saying, if anything, he saw it as one big mockery.

you scoff in response, mumbling something under your breath as you listen to the professor continue on with his speech. you always knew jay was the type to never wear his emotions on his sleeve, but it really rubbed you the wrong way at how he didn’t seem to shed an ounce of care about any of the people who lost their lives so abruptly.

“stop talking to yourself, makes you look even more like a weirdo,” jay quickly comments, he was irritating you the more he kept talking. if you weren’t in this classroom right now, you’d be cursing him out and giving him hell to pay— but you simply kept your mouth shut for the time being. there’s a time and place for certain things..

your melancholy only worsened as the day went by, feeling this heavy, cinder block weight of depression carried on your shoulders. the more you thought of it, the more shitty you felt. anyone would have survivor’s guilt after what you’d gone through, but it only multiplied as it fully settled in, you felt guilty for even doing something as minuscule as breathing. you truly believed that you didn’t deserve to survive, that it should’ve be you in place of someone else… why didn’t you help anyone ?

once class was dismissed, you hurried up out of your seat to go meet up with your boyfriend. jay followed behind you like a lapdog of course, but you didn’t want to speak to him. you debated on confronting him about yesterday, though you decided not to as you weren’t even sure where to begin.. you’d like to think that this was all just some intense fever dream you had but you know it wasn’t.

you physically remember being there, in your kitchen, sobbing to yourself while cleaning up the mess that jay left. you couldn’t go back to sleep after that, not after the way he looked at you like that. vividly picturing the devil’s carved grin plastered on his face, like he was going to rip your heart out of your small body and eat you alive. if you’re being completely honest, you were more fearful of your own life in that moment than you were at the bar.

even if you did tell him what happened, there’s a slim chance he’d take any responsibility for his own actions. his pride would never let him. you remember when you were kids he’d always make you get into so much trouble with him, but the minute you two got caught he’d simply deny everything and pin it all on you. jay was always able to manipulate his way out of just about anything— sociopaths are quite charismatic. you’d often joke with him that he was one, to which he’d never deny or confirm. deep down you’d hope that your own best friend wasn’t, but those old memories gave you all the same reminiscing feelings you felt years ago. or maybe, you were just as demented as he is.. birds of a feather flock together, right ?

๑ ๑ ๑

jay would only become increasingly possessive as time went on. he’s always exhibited quite clingy behaviors but things only snowballed from the night at the bar and onwards. he’d constantly be blowing up your phone, texting you the weirdest, most cryptic shit at 4 in the morning; or if you didn’t respond fast enough for his liking, he’d call you over twenty times until you finally answered, not caring at all if you were with mark. he only made you feel more guilty if you expressed needing space, simply threatening to harm himself or make it seem as if it’d be your fault if something bad were to happen and you didn’t pick up the phone. you don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but he surely hasn’t been acting like himself ever since he interacted with that band.

a month has flown by and you notice jay was starting to look paler than a ghost, the dark circles under his eyes made it seem as though he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months. he looked like death. as if his own flesh was eating him from the inside out. you thought maybe it could be due to stress of some kind, but it wasn’t humanly possible for him to change this drastically. he resembled nothing short of a sickly patient lying on their deathbed, awaiting the grim reaper to come knocking at their doorstep at any minute. he lost a lot of muscle mass as well, turning into a weaker, much more frail version of himself. it truly pained you to see him in such a state, how sunken in his face was, gaunt like a skeleton. an unbearable sight indeed..

“you look like shit..” you tried to say it the nicest way possible but there was no other way to express your concerns, “you okay.. ?”

“gee thanks, and yeah, never been better actually.” jay replied, his tone laced with the utmost sarcasm.

obviously you don’t take his word for it. you know there’s something deeper going on but you didn’t impose any further. you didn’t want him to get upset or agitated with anymore of your prying, so you let it go for now.

the distressing environment around campus only thickens when a brutal murder was reported a few weeks ago. the sight of a decomposing body was found in the middle of the woods, right behind the football field. one of the professors discovered it as they took a walk along the trail— later identified to be soojin, the pretty little captain of the cheer team. her organs were scattered all over the perimeters, painting the greenery with a bold, crimson hue. some parts of her corpse weren’t able to be located, as most of her disemboweled body was eaten by the hungry animals, feasting on her rotting flesh like they just scored a full course meal.

this only caused an uproar of mass hysteria throughout the school, leaving everyone to believe that there may be something even more sinister going on. a vigil was held for her just as there was for the other victims who died in the fire; friends, family, and other town folk gathered around in memory of her. a police investigation was launched shortly after, but there haven’t been many updates on the case so far as no foul play was detected. the authorities simply assumed it to be an animal attack— albeit one of the most gruesome and barbaric attacks they’ve ever seen in their careers.

when you spoke to jay about it one night, you discussed all possible theories you’ve been brainstorming in your head. you believed it very well could’ve been an animal that did it, possibly a wild bear that just enjoys munching on humans for dinner— but he told you that was far from likely. however, you thought maybe he was only saying that just to instill more fear in you, which secretly worked.

you didn’t completely dismiss the possibility of it being some bloodthirsty animal.. she was torn limb from limb with absolutely no sign of weapons being used, so the likeliness of a regular person being able to do something of that caliber with their own bare hands made it almost slim to none. you truly thought her death was one of the saddest ways to go out.. you never spoke to soojin a day in your life but she was pretty popular and fairly well liked amongst everyone, you’d never guess her of all people would end up with a fate like this.

as you trudged through the halls, you bumped into one of your classmates ryujin, who’s been asking nonstop if you could set her up with jay. you’ve known for a while that she’s always had a thing for him and was hoping you could play cupid and be the middle man for her. you’d been putting it off for a while since you highly doubted that he’d reciprocate those same feelings, but being the good sport you are, you end up telling her that you’ll talk to jay, although you couldn’t make any promises.

upon meeting up with jay later on in the day, you proposed the idea to him, but of course, he declined almost straight away saying he wasn’t interested. he referred to her as that ‘weird, stoner goth chick who tries too hard’ and wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole. you definitely expected him to be adverse to your idea, but maybe not to this extent. you just wanted to see your friend happy but of course jay always has to ruin it…

however, not even an hour later, he ends up agreeing to it, as if a switch had flipped in his brain. you thought it was a bit strange how he’d simply gone from one extreme to the next but you didn’t question it as you had no reason to. ultimately, you were just happy for ryujin, at least she’d get to spend some alone time with her crush.

you on the other hand, had a multitude of worries of your own. you and mark were supposed to go see the new twilight movie in theaters, just to get your mind off everything— yet what you felt most anxious about was what’ll occur afterwards. you were planning on losing your virginity tonight, feeling as though you were ready to take the next step with him. well, at least you thought so.. but now you weren’t even feeling sure of that anymore. a part of you felt pressured to just lose it already and since you were dating mark, you may as well do it, right ? if only it were that simple..

๑ ๑ ๑

your nerves were at an all time high as you laid beneath his bare form. inhaling, exhaling, and repeating those same steps over and over. your mind was racing a million miles per minute, staring up at the ceiling as you rethink all of your life decisions.

everything seemed fine at first, until it wasn’t..

you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it, but all you knew was that this felt strange.. something doesn’t feel right.. all you could do was lay there, utterly detached from reality.

numbness.. that’s all you felt..

you wanted to crawl into your own skin and die, you shouldn’t be so repulsed by your own boyfriend being on top of you— but that was the only emotion you bore.

everything felt so foreign to you, his touch, the way he caressed you, it didn’t feel right. you couldn’t shake this odd sensation, it was something you didn’t want for yourself. you wanted to puke, absolutely sick to your stomach.

he kissed your neck, but you don’t feel a thing. completely stoic and emotionless. all you’re thinking about right now is jay. you had this inclination that something went terribly wrong and you needed an escape.

“i-i can’t do this.. i’m sorry..” you finally say out loud, quickly pushing him off of you before anything else could continue.

“did i do something wrong ?” mark asks, confused by your sudden coldness.

you simply don’t answer, scrambling to put on your clothes and leaving his house in a hurry to go and run to your car. you began driving in the direction of jay’s dorm, not knowing whether he’d be there or not. the limited amount of streetlights made it even more difficult to see, but you spot a shadowy figure heading towards you on the main road.

in a rush of panic you slammed onto the brakes hard, trying not to run over whatever’s coming towards the vehicle, thinking it was probably a deer or something—but you see that it’s jay, his clothes stained in blood just like night he was in your kitchen. you immediately got out of the car to go help him but he was no longer there anymore, as if he’s vanished into thin air.

confusion doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.. reluctantly heading back home, hoping that it was all some vivid hallucination that you were having— but the minute you went upstairs into your room, you see jay sitting on your bed, not a single drop of blood detected anywhere on him anymore.

“what are you doing here ?” you ask, blankly staring down at him over the rim of your glasses.

“just wanted to drop by and see my favorite girl.” he smiles crookedly, looking much healthier than he did when you saw him earlier, “what’s wrong with that, hm?”

“why’re you in my bed ? just go back to your dorm jay.” you didn’t have time for his little games right now, you just wanted to shut the whole world out.

“but i wanna stay… plus we always used to sleep together when we had sleep overs.” he pouts, proceeding to get even more comfortable as he had no plans on leaving anytime soon.

“is that my grateful dead t-shirt?” you get a bit closer to examine, growing irritated that he went through your stuff without even asking.

he doesn’t respond, at least not in the way you think he would. instead, jay harshly pressed his lips against yours. stretching the neckline of your shirt to pull all your weight on top of his. he managed to have some self control at first, but that didn’t last too long as he savored the taste of you. hesitantly, you kissed him back, whimpering at the feel of his tongue prodding at your lips, begging for entry. your mouth slightly parts, giving him just enough leeway for him to devour you in the sloppiest, most depraved way possible. he kissed you hard, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. nothing but raw passion and burning desire throughout.

his lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, tangling your hands into his messy, raven locks. jay would only grow more unhinged, never letting you gasp for air for more than half a second. he explored the depths of you, every nook and cranny, like he wanted you down to the marrow, swallowing you whole. he felt this primal urge in wanting to bite you, to sign your death with his teeth— but he resisted, at least not yet anyway.

when his hands came up to find your hips, his touch felt scorching hot against your skin… lifting your skirt up inch by inch. then the realization of what you’re doing finally hits, that you have a goddamn boyfriend and this isn’t something you should ever be doing with your best friend. quickly getting off of him, shouting in protest.

“jay, what the fuck ?!” you were horrified, not even wanting to look at him anymore.

“language y/n !” he giggles at your filthy vocabulary, licking his lips to capture your taste once more, “don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it either.”

“but i’ll admit, the reason i’m here exactly is.. i have a confession to make..” he takes a dramatic pause before continuing, “i haven’t been completely honest with you, and you’re the only one i can trust.”

you look at him strangely, unsure of what he fully meant by that, “what is it..”

“i’m dead.”

now you’re staring at him as if he just said the most absurd shit you ever heard, which quite literally it was.

“huh ? what do you mean you’re dead?”

“what do you not understand y/n, it’s pretty self explanatory.” he casually says if he were simply talking about the weather.

“i’m not sure i follow..” you didn’t get where he was heading with any of this, hoping that it’s just some joke with a bad punchline.

“it means i’m dead— as in not alive.” he repeats nonchalantly.

“jay, shut up. you’re not funny.” crossing your arms in annoyance, growing more impatient with him by the second.

“it’s true, i swear !”

“you’re ridiculous..” you’ve had enough of his little shenanigans, ready to walk away from him but he grabs you at the last minute, forcibly bringing you back to meet his gaze.

“just listen, it’ll all make sense soon,” he pleads, flashing you a sweet, puppy eyed look that could make anyone fold almost instantly.

“‘kay.. fine whatever.” you heave a sigh, sitting back down on your bed, still a bit reluctant on hearing him out.

“there’s something inside me… an evil entity,” he explains further, “ever since that night at the bar my body feels.. different.” he proceeds to tell you this dumb story that you weren’t buying for a second.

“c’mon, you really expect to believe tha-”

he cuts you off, proceeding to go on a whole tangent, “remember that band i told you about ? they drove me out to the creek, dragged me out of the van and offered me as a virgin sacrifice in exchange for fame and fortune. they kept telling me how hard it was to make it as an indie band so this was the only option they had left.. all i can remember afterwards was how much pain i was in… they each took turns stabbing me to death, singing some creepy chant as they did it, then they lit me on fire.. but the problem is that i’m not a virgin, so when scar and her little gang murdered me the ritual backfired and a demonic spirit took over my body. i was able to escape the forest but i left feeling so hungry.. so on my way back home, i saw some girl on the opposite side of the pavement, she looked quite edible so i ate her. and that’s how i started eating human flesh.”

you had no words. your only reaction was to blink rapidly at everything he just told you. there’s no way he could be telling you the truth, stuff like that only happens in movies, pure fiction. “that’s the craziest fucking story you’ve ever made up in your entire life jay.”

he seemingly grows frustrated at the fact you aren’t taking his words seriously, but he kept on talking anyway. “i’m being serious y/n, you’ve gotta believe me ! they’re basically agents of satan, they simply used me as a pawn. i was their gateway to the lifestyle they so desperately wanted to achieve..”

“so what you’re saying is that you’ve been reincarnated as a demonic spirit that feeds off of human flesh ? that’s what you’re trying to get at ??” you ask, confirming his very weird, but oddly specific narrative.

jay nods, “yes, that’s precisely what i’m trying to say.”

“so.. you’re telling me you’re the one who killed soojin ?” you question outrightly, hoping at the very least he had nothing to do with it, but if what he is saying was true that could very well be a possibility.

he nods again, “yep. and ryujin.”

your blood ran cold the minute upon hearing that, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, “wait- what ?!”

“yeah, i only agreed to meet up with her just to eat her. so it’s practically your fault that she’s dead.” he shrugs, seeing it as if it was no big deal.

you couldn’t comprehend a single thing your ears were hearing right now.. your own classmate was dead and gone because of your best friend.

“you’re a fucking monster.. she had a whole life ahead of her. hopes and dreams just like the rest of us..”

“well, now she’s food for worms, sucks to suck,” jay shrugs again, speaking so nonchalant about everything it made you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

disgusted didn’t even amount up to what you felt, sitting there in silence trying to process all of this.

“anyway, wanna see something cool?” he asks, not even bothering to await your response as you gave him the most questionable look of all mankind.

“i can withstand any injury without pain and i’m difficult to kill, see.” he takes one of your gel pens from your nightstand and stabs it straight into his own wrist, he was bleeding heavily at first but then the wounds start to close up within a few seconds, eventually fading away as if he didn’t just stab himself at all.

“see ! how cool is that ?? like some x-men type shit,” he says like a giddy school kid, bragging over his new abilities. “when i’m full, i’m practically invincible. i’m a fucking god.”

again, you were too stunned to speak. you genuinely thought you were losing your mind at this point, there’s no way any of this is real. it’s all a bad dream. you just need to pinch yourself and you’ll wake up, right ..?

“oh by the way, that night i snuck into your place, i was having all sorts of thoughts.. even thought about hurting you but i could never do that..” he finally admits to the night when he went into your kitchen, “i was just so hungry but nothing would satisfy my craving..” his eyes were a window to the truth, and by the looks of how empty they were, it was safe to assume you still had every right to frightened.

“jay, i- i really think you should leave…” your whole body was practically shaking, you couldn’t bear to look but you were far more terrified of looking away— falling apart at the seams.

he doesn’t even budge a little upon hearing you, “oh c’monn y/n, let me stay the night; we can play boyfriend and girlfriend like we used to… good times am i right ?” he strokes your hand with his, not even fully understanding the gravity of what he’s done or said this whole time.

“jay you’re freaking me the fuck out !” you raise your voice louder, removing yourself away from his touch. how could you let a literal murderer touch you ?

“there’s no need for you to be. i already told you that i’m not gonna hurt you.. at least not in that way..” jay clung onto you again, this time dragging you back down onto the bed as he forced himself on top of you.

you scrunch your eyes shut at the feel of his hands on you, idle fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. a surge of heat flushes down your thighs, blood rushing to your cheeks... and to your core. god, you were so embarrassed right now.

“w-what are you doing …?” you breathe out, opening your eyes once again, only to see him staring straight into your soul.

“don’t get all shy on me now.. we’re just havin’ a bit of fun,” he answers, “just messing around like the old days, right ?” he slid his index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimeters away from yours.

“jay no, please-” you begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.

“shh, it’s okay, i’ll take the lead. we can go slow… i promise i won’t bite. unless you want me to.” he darkly chuckles, tilting his head to the side, pressing a light kiss to your lips. surprisingly, you reciprocate it. he pulls his hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting too much pressure around it just yet. “see, i knew you’d be into it, you’re my little freak, aren’t you ?”

you hated that you were getting aroused from this, the way he spoke to you in that husky tone. that same bubbling heat rushing to your core again.. you wanted to fight it, you truly did, but you couldn’t. your mind was telling you one thing but your body was reacting differently, as if you were under some spell that he casted.

you don’t know what to answer to that. is there even anything you can even say back to him ? you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. and besides, what’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and your mattress, his fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face, would you really be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this ? he practically knows you better than your own self at times, of course he’d be able to tell…

he kisses you again, but this time much hungrier, his tongue dominating yours easily. he nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your soft flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath— apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth.

he grazes the bump of your pussy covered by your lace panties with his fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. you wanted to close your legs shut, but when he slowly rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a desperate whine escapes your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. the moment only brief until he dips his hand into your underwear.

you try to make him stop by grabbing ahold of his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that only makes him chuckle in response.

“mm.. already begging for me, sweetheart ?” he softly laughs, smirking at you. “excited by the idea of my fingers in your little cunt instead of your boyfriend’s ? hm ?”

you frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this... your thoughts are going into a completely different direction. what the hell’s wrong with you ?

“you wanna know how it feels, baby? what it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” his dirty talk only continues, you couldn’t fathom this was really jay speaking to you in such a vulgar manner like this. your best friend who’s about to take your virginity whether you wanted it to happen or not, he was going to make sure that mark could never have you in such a way, wanted to ruin it for everyone else like he always does.

he’s not waiting for a response as he starts stroking your bundle of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. you let out another whine, this time of genuine pleasure.

jay then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for too long as he pushes a finger into you without warning. you bit down on your bottom lip harshly— the size of his fingers in no comparison to yours. your eyes swelled with water, faint little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit.

“i know, i know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” you nod your head, confirming his words. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise. you’re probably only used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

when he says this, you have a hard time believing him. how could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this— when it’s not what you wanted..

he begins moving his fingers in and out of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. he’d curls his fingers every so often, making a little hook shape, patting your sweet spot. the intrusion was uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace.

tears continued to flow, falling down to your cheeks, lashes all wet and sticky, but they weren’t the result of your pain…

“god.. look at you. so pretty when you cry,” jay murmurs beside your ear, butterflies swirling in your stomach when he tells you this.

he unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his shoulder. you now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g spot. you dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. this makes you breathless, head rolling back onto your pillows, having never experienced anything like this before.

“o-oh my god-!” you exclaim when jay’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. your legs couldn’t stop twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

you’d probably be more aware of how hard he was if it weren’t trapped in his loosely fitting jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than jay fingering you, hitting your sensitive spots each time he thrusts in.

“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, moving faster. “you feel it ? huh?” he asks and you’re able to croak out a weak ‘yes’. “tell me how it feels.”

you hate his questions— you hate them so damn much. he knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.

“g-good.”

“yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans and whimpers you let out.

“yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and slowly nodding your head. “fuck !” you curse out when you finally reach your high, nails digging into his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body violently shaking.

jay helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy dewy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all while said in the sweetest tone, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet.

“good girl,” he praises, “see, i told you it’d feel great.”

he still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. it’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but jay retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.

he could simply stop there, but he won’t— not until he fully got what he wanted, he needs more…

he pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening with your arousal. “open wide for me, baby,” he instructs.

you glance at his hand, a little repulsed. you’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for him.

you then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in.

“suck,” he adds on, expecting you to blindly follow all of his orders, and you do so without a second thought.

he stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. the taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… it doesn’t taste like much of anything, in fact.

he removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “just as sweet as you are,” he grins. “stand up for me, wan’ you to suck me off.”

your wobbly legs do their best at balancing themselves, slowly getting up only to be told to get back down on your knees. you sink down to the ground, leaning over to eye his stiff erection through his pants, slowly rubbing your hand over it as you palm him in your grasp. he hisses at the feel, already loving how you obediently take orders, how you’ve become nothing but a mindless slut for him.

you didn’t know the first thing you were doing but you did what felt natural, so you free his cock from the confines of his pants and underwear, watching as it sprung out and slapped against his stomach. jay was huge. his veiny, pink dick standing tall in front of you, gulping as you debate on how you’re going to take all of him in your tiny mouth.

his length throbbed in your small hand, tip already leaking out a pearly bead of precum, dribbling onto your fingers. you slowly press your mouth against the tip, keeping it there for a bit to get a little taste of him and to get used to the feel. then you swirled your tongue lightly around it, loving the salty tanginess of his precum against your tongue.

“fuck… feel so good around me already,” he bit his lip harshly, gripping the sheets as he groans with pleasure.

you wrap your mouth tighter around his length as you begin to slide your head down. bobbing it back and forth, keeping a tight suction on his cock, making sure not to use any teeth. you feel jay’s hips jolt up from the feel as you drew more saliva from your mouth, making a mess all over yourself.

he let out a low moan when his length hits the back of your throat, accidentally gagging at how much you took. you couldn’t take all of him in your mouth completely, but you did the best with what you could, bobbing your head as your hand stroked the rest. the way you looked while taking him made him want to bust at the very sight, nothing could compare to having your mouth around him.

“atta girl, keep going— just like that baby— ahh….” he keeps encouraging you, giving you small praises here and there. he does his best not to keep his eyes off you but he wanted to shut his eyes from how good you were making him feel, you were such a natural at this. as you continued stroking his cock with your pretty, talented mouth, he elicits more moans and it only makes you want to make him cum faster.

jay bit his lip even harder, trying so hard not to close his eyes, taking in shallow breaths. he could feel himself getting closer and his whole body tenses up like he’s got a volcano erupting inside him.

“shit— think ‘m gonna come… damn baby…”

you couldn’t say anything since his cock was buried deep down your throat. the only thing on your mind right now was getting him to finish inside your mouth. you lightly hum as you pick up your pace, he matches your movements with his hips, fucking your mouth aggressively. there was saliva everywhere, your face was flushed and you seriously looked such a mess. a beautiful mess, all for jay.

you feel his thickness throbbing in your mouth and a warm sensation hits the back of your throat. white ropes of his cum releases into you and you swallow it immediately, to which you earn yourself a “good girl” as you look up at him, drinking up all his cum. surprisingly, he tasted pretty good, emptying every last drop of him, once you finally pulled away he orders for you to get back on the bed and to bend over for him. you only hesitated for a second, looking at him credulously before doing what he asked of you, trembling legs meeting with the soft sheets again.

“are you…?” you say under your breath, peering over your shoulder to see jay stroking himself, looking at your glistening pussy that’s spread on perfect display for him.

“gonna put my cock inside you ?” he finishes your question for you. “yeah, i am.”

you stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. he pumps himself a couple more times before aligning his head with your dripping wet entrance. his free hand keeping your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.

“careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” he swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing throughout the room.

you can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. the burning sensation of your cunt getting stretched out was enough to make you see stars, and he was right. this hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings were not comparable at all.

“jay-,” you cry out, holding onto the sheets below you for dear life until there’s no more blood circulating in your knuckles.

he hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. when he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.

you bit onto your lip, compressing a moan that dared to slip from your mouth again. he deliberately pounded into you, like he wanted everyone near to know just how badly he was ruining you, wanting you to beg and cry out for mercy, like he wanted every bone in your body to bend and break.

you involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. he thrusts himself deeper into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at an agonizingly harsh pace. each time he bottoms out, jay makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.

your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restriction. it’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.

you don’t know how long you can stay in this position for, especially when jay’s drilling his hard cock into you like nothing else matters. it’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.

you’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath fanning against your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. you can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your gummy walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him right in.

“shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis.

he kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. he leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. as he thrusts into you, his balls smack your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. jay lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face.

your mouth gaped to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. he didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough. making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you to death or eating you— or both. jay doesn’t care, he just wants it. it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. jay feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“please.. jay, so good..”

“gonna come in this tight little virgin pussy.” he captured your waist pulling you closer into him. “wanna put a baby in you, bet you’d like that, huh ?”

“holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until strings of white paints your insides. “oh, god…”

he stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. he then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you.

but he wasn’t done just yet, he wanted you to be completely, utterly, and thoroughly ruined by all parts of him. his fingers, his cock, and now his tongue.

“just need another taste..” jay couldn’t get enough of you, practically blinded by lust, all he wants is to have you, only you, no one else was more perfect than you.

he bends down, toying with your clit and licking your opening until you turned into a yelping mess underneath his tongue, tugging onto the sheets, pillows, whatever you could grasp, feeling like you were about to die. he had a strong grip on your thighs, kept you in place while you came on his tongue like you were made for it, so pretty and ashamed that he’s lost all self-restraint, if ever had any to begin with.

he continued to lap at your cunt, kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. hands caressing your thighs, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him. you grind against his face and jay couldn’t help but groan at the way you were so enthralled by the feel. his tongue never letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you catch a break from the feeling of him against you.

his mouth domes around your clit, sucking you right in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. mid arch, jay slips two fingers into you. the slight sting makes you hiss as he stretches you out again, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. he soon plants open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally.

the combination of jay’s tongue and fingers, along with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, is all too overwhelming. you couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, to which he gladly gives. fingers fucking into you faster, much deeper than ever before. the feeling of your impeding orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it.

tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. the tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches you come undone for him all over again. his thumb massaged your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. you felt yourself relax into his touch, into the feeling of lust and desire fully engulfing your soul. that’s when it takes over… your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out broken moans. it’s all too much for you to handle, but you never want it to end..

your chest is getting hot and heavy, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. your body was on cloud nine as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over jay’s forearm and thighs.

“jay…” you said his name on repeat, so low and barely audible, mind all foggy and hazy, as if he’d hypnotized you and the only word you can say was his name.

๑ ๑ ๑

a modus operandi. every killer has one, don’t they ?

some tend to prey on the young, weak, and most vulnerable. some may even go so far as devising a foolproof scenario that’ll get others to feel sorry for them, only to lure them right into their devious traps.

jay was no exception to this rule. he knew exactly how to use his good looks and charisma to get anyone to fall for his tricks. he didn’t need to put in too much effort, he didn’t have to seek anyone out because they’d come to him anyway. and no one knew a goddamn thing besides you. which only made you want to scream internally. only you knew the real truth.

ryujin’s death was the next topic of discussion for this whole week as more terror spewed upon the town. no one saw it coming, she was the last person anyone would think could be a target. gossip spread around quickly, revealing more details about the scene of the crime.

some of her internal organs were missing and was cannibalized just like soojin was. her body was so badly mutilated the authorities couldn’t even identify her at first. many were now believing it to be an act of some kind of satanic cult as there was a gigantic pentagram smeared in blood on her bedroom mirror. some were even saying that she looked like ‘lasagna with teeth’, to which you shuddered at that mental image being planted in your mind.

there was a campus curfew set in place to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the rest of the students. everyone’s worried they’ll be next, and since the killer hasn’t been caught this only made the entire town as a whole become on edge. the streets were barren, no sign of any activity past nine o’clock. no one felt safe, it was as if everything was on lockdown now. many were concerned that the upcoming spring formal would get canceled, but it’s been confirmed that it’ll still be held, although the times were changed from 7-10 PM to 6-8 PM to follow the curfew’s ‘no one out past nine o’clock rule’.

while studying in the library, you decided to do some of your own research about jay’s strange condition, reading as many occult books as you could find. you later discovered that he’s an incubus; a male demon that has sexual activity with other women. he was at his weakest state whenever he’s hungry, needing to feed on human flesh in order to sustain his lifespan and overall appearance. you never believed in the supernatural before all of this, but now that you’ve seen it with your own two eyes, you don’t think you’ll be able to live a normal life again.

“this can’t be real… there’s no way any of this is a coincidence, first the fire now a cannibal psycho’s on the loose?” mark rants about the recent murders as you sat on the swings at the park together. you were jealous of how blissfully ignorant he was, how he had no idea how much deeper this all ran.

“i know… it seems like we can’t catch a break, now the whole words got a raging tragedy boner for us..” you sigh out heavily, still shocked by how much media coverage all of this was getting, and even more uncertain if you wanted to tell him everything.

“you alright ?” he suddenly asks, noticing the way your head hung low as you stared at your feet. it was as if he could read your mind.

you pause for a moment, battling with your own inner demons on whether or not it was a good time to tell him everything, but you decide to be honest. it was the least you could do after what happened the other day…

“actually no.. i’m not..” you couldn’t withhold this information all to yourself anymore, you had to tell mark. you needed to keep him from going to the spring formal; it wasn’t safe for him to go, even if you would be with him.

so you spill everything, starting off from the night of going to the bar with jay, how he was brutally murdered and left for dead by that girl band who used him as a sacrifice, you told him about how he was there in your kitchen, and how he ended up slaughtering so many innocent people in his wake. you felt so sure of yourself that mark would believe you, but you were soon proven wrong the minute he opened his mouth.

“yeah you’ve officially lost it y/n, i hope you know that.” he looks at you as if you’ve gone crazy, mirroring the same actions as you from the night that jay confessed to you.

“i’m telling the truth mark, you’ve gotta believe me. you have to promise me that you won’t go...” you practically beg, hoping that all of this won’t fall on deaf ears, but of course, he doesn’t listen.

“i’m sorry but i don’t believe anything you’re saying right now.” he chooses to remain stubborn, staying in his ignorant little bubble as if you were just making all of this up just to get a reaction out of him.

“mark, i love you and care about you so much, that’s why i’m asking you not to go.” you continue to try and reason with him, hoping that he’ll change his mind somehow, even if you sounded like a lunatic you didn’t care.

“he’s going to strike again that night, i can feel it. it’ll be like an all you can eat buffet for him !” you may not be the most morally correct person, but mark’s life was on the line. you just don’t want him getting turned into satan chow…

“look, i’m going and that’s final y/n. with or without you.” he wasn’t interested in hearing whatever else you had to say, he’s already made up his mind and there no use in changing it.

you huff out of frustration, unable to think of anything else so you do what you feel was best for him and the both of you. “mark, i really didn’t wanna have to do this but it isn’t safe for us to be together. i think it’s best we break up..”

his eyes widened, feeling the pace of his heart quicken at your sudden words, “what ? you can’t be serious, y/n.”

“i bet jay put you up to this, didn’t he ?” his jaw clenched, fuming at the thought of jay conspiring a whole plan in getting you two to finally break up, it’s what he always would’ve wanted, and now mark feels like he’s just lost that seven month long, intensive battle against him.

you repeatedly shook your head, denying his accusation. but deep down you knew that you’ve already broken his trust anyway. maybe it was for the better that you were no longer together.

“are you really too blinded to see? he’s always been a bad influence on you..” mark was fed up at this point, feeling rightfully hurt by how easily you wanted to end this relationship all because of jay. “if he told you to jump, i bet you’d ask ‘how high?’, he’s got you wrapped around his finger, controlling you like a damn puppet !”

you were now the one to get in defensive mode, visibly getting upset. but you couldn’t get too upset, you knew there was a small truth to that statement, you were willing to do a lot of things you normally wouldn’t for jay, but you weren’t just going to let mark talk to you like that. your pride was too strong, plus you were already dealing with enough as it is. parting ways from each other was probably the best solution for you two.

“no.. i was only trying to protect you, but don’t say i didn’t warn you..” you gave him one last chance to rethink his decision but you knew he wouldn’t.

on that note, you end up heading back home. leaving mark all alone to go ponder in his own thoughts, feeling his eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he watched you walk away, fading into the void of obscurity.

๑ ๑ ๑

the night of the spring formal was finally here. the night you’ve been dreading since having that conversation with mark, forcing you to break up with him. the minute you got here you’ve been on high alert, scanning the area for any sign of suspicious activity, bringing a swiss knife with you as an added layer of protection. everyone was dressed in their best attire, bodies swaying to the music as they all tried to have a good time despite of everything that’s been happening. you didn’t see mark which you thought was a good sign, but surprisingly, you also don’t see jay anywhere either.

you were engulfed in nostalgia once mr.bright side by the killers airs on the overhead speakers of the gymnasium; which used to be you and jay’s favorite song in high school, but that fond memory only brought a wave of sadness to your soul now. looking back on those days, you specifically remember how much jay’s presence gave you strength to keep going; to keep existing. you truly felt as though you had no reason to live, but he gave you one.

during your adolescent years, it was nothing but turbulence and chaos. your father would routinely come home at the crack of dawn, drunk as sin and belligerent, destroying everything he touched. your mother would do her best to shield you from seeing and hearing their daily arguments, telling you to go straight to your room and lock the door until she says it’s safe to come back out. but being the nosy, and curious child you were you’d push your ear up to the door and listen. hearing the most horrid, degrading words he’d spew, beating her black and blue until he physically grew tired and passed out on the couch. you’d run away from home a couple times, going to jay for comfort, finding solace in one another.

jay could easily relate to your struggles, how you both felt as though no one saw you as real, raw human beings. his father left before he was even born and his mother would dabble in sex work to keep the lights on. he despised every single one of those men who’d come into his home, sometimes his mom would be gone for several days on end, forcing him to grow up at a young age and take care of himself. he wanted to seek revenge on all of those men who violated her, kill them with his own bare hands. maybe that’s why he’d act out so much, he was just a kid being a kid— but no one ever saw the cries for help, no one paid attention to the signs. just labeled a pretty boy with ugly intentions. you never saw him that way though, you were the light at the end of the tunnel, his saving grace. yeah you may have been the awkward kid who didn’t talk much, but eventually he got you to open up. and ever since then, you’ve been conjoined at the hip.

a part of you still wants to believe that he’s that same naïve boy you once knew, still so lost and so confused. but you couldn’t keep making excuses for him, even if he was a damaged soul, so were you. you truly brought out the best and the worst of each other, having seen each other at some of your lowest points in life. which is why you made a vow to never leave the other behind, but we change and evolve over time, it’s natural to grow distant. jay simply couldn’t handle the fact that someone else made you smile, made you feel all those emotions he made you feel— you were slipping right through his fingers. you were all he had left. and he wasn’t going to lose you, not now, not ever.

๑ ๑ ๑

an hour’s passed by already and there was still no sight of either of the two. your mild worries would soon fester into full blown anxiousness when you get this innate feeling that mark could be in danger. you weren’t exactly sure where he was, or if he’s had an encounter with jay, but all you could think about right now was saving his life. even though you betrayed him in the end by sleeping with jay, you couldn’t let him die, you’d never be able to live with yourself if you let that happen. so you hurried out of there and went looking for him, having zero idea exactly where you were headed, but your mind just kept telling you run, run, run.

you don’t know how long you’ve been running for, maybe around twenty, thirty minutes ? who even knows anymore. your legs grew tired, stopping midway to take a breather, until you ended up at an old abandoned pool house. you had an overwhelmingly bad feeling about the place the more you looked at it, but when you heard the gut wrenching screams coming from inside that only confirmed your suspicions, sounding a lot like someone you knew. you ran inside, following their cries for help as you try and locate which direction it was coming from, only to find jay who seems to have found his next victim— your ex boyfriend.

“get away from him !” you demand while shouting from across the room. you can feel your heartbeat accelerate as you’re speed running towards them both, forcefully pushing him off of mark, tackling jay onto the floor.

“i thought you only did this to girls !” you had held some hope that jay wouldn’t harm him, but then again you should’ve known this was bound to happen..

“i guess you can say i go both ways,” he devilishly smirks, swiping the blood off his lower lip with the sleeve of black tux.

jay throws you off of him, causing you to wince in pain as your face made contact with the cold, tiled ground. you wouldn’t back down that easily though, getting right back up to finish what you started. sprinting towards him before he could get back to the work of his own brutality.

“you know, now that i think of it. you were never a good friend to me,” you angrily spat, walking up to him with your head held high, refusing to let fear win this time. “you used to rip the head off my barbie dolls and pour spoiled milk all over my bed !”

jay chuckles at your little speech, utterly amused by your resilience, even found it cute how you were still reminiscing about the past. “and now i’m eating your boyfriend, at least i’m consistent.” he shrugged.

“you make me fucking sick..” you grit through your teeth, grabbing ahold of him before he could take another bite out of mark’s shoulder.

using all your strength, you’d shoved him into the pool, submerging him into the water, attempting to drown him, but those efforts were futile when he regains control. he pulls you back, teeth becoming sharper, like tiny daggers, sinking them into the flesh of your neck. before you could react, you’re the one being lodged into the water; claw-like nails digging into your scalp, razor sharp, weighty against your skull.

it’s hard to keep your head above the water due to the forceful heaviness and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath renders itself useless due to large amounts of water infiltrating your lungs. you’re flailing, thrashing around, arms lifting— hands frantically attempting to grab ahold of anything, only to slash through the water, legs kicking mindlessly.

you had to get him off you real quick, or else you felt as though you were going to die. your body grew weaker and weaker, seeing your life flash before your very eyes as panic fully sets in. it felt as though this was going on for hours.. being edged by death over and over; feeling as if you were going to black out soon. your vision was blocked by the dark, murkiness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to come to an end.

and then it does… finally able to emerge from the coldness as you cough up all the water you inhaled. it took a few minutes for you to be able to learn how to breathe again, attempting to calm yourself down, only to turn around seeing both jay and mark wailing in pain for two completely different reasons. mark was lying on the ground, putting pressure on his neck as jay stood there frozen, holding onto the pool skimmer that was deliberately pierced through his stomach.

“you son of a fucking bitch…” he mutters, remaining still for a second, as if he was processing what just happened. a slew of more curses left his lips, sucking in air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can. he’d slowly but surely drop to his knees, and a few seconds later he’s collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

you go up to mark, staring down at his wounded figure, his neck and shoulder bleeding profusely. “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you..” you sniffled, unable to hold back tears you’ve shed, wishing you could’ve been just a few minutes earlier.

“it’s okay.. i love you y/n..” mark weakly spoke, coughing up red splatters of blood as he took his last few and final breathes.

you gave him one last kiss as his eyes closed, you checked for a pulse but there was no sign of life, officially pronouncing him dead. you turned around and jay was gone. forcing you to run out of the place to go and looking for him. there was no other option you had left at this point, it was either you or him that was going to end up dead tonight.

eventually you’d caught up to him in the woods, finding him at a nearby tree, as if he were waiting for you to come searching for him.

“i have to kill you..” you cut straight to the point, grabbing the swiss knife that was at the bottom of your ankle boot, pointing it towards him.

“not if i spill your pretty little guts all over this ground first,” jay laughs, barely moving an inch. still seeing this as all one big game to him, enjoying the thrill of it all.

“why’re you try to be the hero all of a sudden ? still feeling guilty you couldn’t save all those people who burned to death ? they were all a bunch of worthless scum anyway, if anything, i did them all a favor.” his head tilts as he asks so many questions, attempting to throw you off, knowing that it’d only agitate you further.

you backed away as he kept coming towards you, still pointing the sharp edge at him, “you’re wrong, jay. they all deserved to live yet you took it all away like the sick, inhumane fuck you are.”

“is that really what you think of me ? then why’d you let me take your precious virginity, hm ? can’t you see ? i’m the only person who actually ever gave a shit about you.” the smile on his face was so uncanny, as if it came straight out of a cartoon. he was nothing but pure evil, and he knew it.

you couldn’t bear to listen to him speak anymore, it was giving you a headache, you had to end this quickly. you remember while doing your paranormal digging, that a blade to the heart can kill any demon, now it’s all up to you to finish the job.

“i don’t care how long it takes, you’re going to die by the end of this night.” you stated matter-of-factly, you weren’t going down without a fight, and jay happily accepted your challenge with open arms.

he bursts out into more laughter, but it was anything but normal, it sounded maniacal, as if he were taunting you. “i’d love to see you try, sweetheart.”

he lunged forward to snatch the knife out of your hand, wrestling on the ground with him to try and get it back. you couldn’t let him win, not after all you’ve went through. all you had to do was plunge the weapon into his chest and you’d end this reign of terror once and for all. but once you obtained the knife, positioning it towards his chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“if you’re going to do it then just get it over with. just do it already.” he bitterly spoke, repeating his words over and over, egging you on in your already frenzied state. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, it was like the minute you had your chance, every particle inside of you froze…

“shut up, shut up, shut up !” you couldn’t even think straight, just shaking your head nonstop while screaming at him to stop talking.

jay could’ve easily overpowered you by now, but it was almost as if he wanted you to do it, willingly ready to die by the hands of you.

“and to think i used to truly believe you were my other half…” you looked at him in disgust, unable to see him as the man who you once knew for practically your whole life. you felt as though you wasted so many of your precious years befriending the most evil, conniving person on the planet.

“silly girl... don’t you remember ? i bit you, so you'll eventually obtain my supernatural powers.” he reminds you of what happened not even an hour before, “our souls are connected now.”

you shook your head in protest, refusing to even entertain that idea, “no… i could never be like you, i’d rather die than be like you..”

jay didn’t seem to be bothered at all by your opposing comments or your lack of compliance. if anything, it only made him want you even more. sure, you may not be cooperating now, but he’ll soon condition you into believing that the only thing you’ll ever need is him.

he cracks a faint smile, “i’m afraid it’s already too late for that, my darling,” he spoke to you softly. not even realizing he’s took the knife from your hands, bringing it down to your thighs, letting the blade run across your delicate skin.

“jay…” you say his name quietly, barely above a whisper. something inside you shifts the minute your gaze meets his, a warm, fuzzy feeling tickling a certain spot within your brain chemistry. you don’t know how to describe it, but your body feels different, so inexplicably different. as if it doesn’t even belong to you anymore.

“you know i’ve always loved you y/n,” jay sweetly coos into your ear, “i just have an awfully morbid way of showing it.”

his words flustered you to no end, feeling guilty for wanting to just give in, all the fight soon evaporating from your body. although you still had so much love for mark, your undying love for jay over the years trumped all of those emotions. the primal desire for him only grew once he’d connect his lips with yours. kissing you tenderly under the glowing moonlight. just you and him, along with the coppery taste of blood on each other’s lips.

you know why you couldn’t kill him. because if you did, you know there’d be no one else in this world who could ever understand you in the same way he does. the two of you shared an eternal bond that could never be erased nor replicated. if you were the kerosene, then he was the match, slow dancing in each other’s flames gracefully.

a made match in heaven ? no, more like a match made in hell.

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #jay smut #jay x reader #enhypen fic #enha smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #jay park smut #kpop smut #enhypen hard hours #enha x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfic #jongseong smut

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peachessndreamss · 3 months ago

Text

Wolfswood

Summery : Cregan receives an injury while out hunting, his wife cares for him

Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)

Warnings : Cannon typical injury and first aid/wound care, cannon typical hunting

Word count : 4k

A/N : Cregan Stark I love yooou. Also, apologies in advance if this is the most boring thing you've ever read.

Winter had arrived with devastating speed and brutality in the North. The first heavy snowfall had destroyed the last remaining crops left out in the fields and the woodpiles stacked as high as two men and just as wide had looked like enough to see them through two winters but soon began to deplete at an alarming rate.

And when a great boar had been sighted at the edge of the Wolfswood, Lord Cregan Stark quickly called the men of his house to a hunt, knowing it was better to find the creature now and make use of it rather than let it be starved by the winter.

They had set out in the pre-dawn, 10 men of House Stark, wrapped in layers of leather, wool and fur, mounted on the most surefooted horses the Winterfell stables had to offer. Lord Stark rode at the front of the group, his steward and close friend Martyn Snow riding beside him, the two of them talking as they disappeared from sight.

Once in the Wolfswood Lord Stark had led the hunt, first on horseback as they tracked the creature deeper into the cover of the dense wood and then on foot, when the terrain had become too dangerous for the horses and the boar needed to be harried out of its hiding place.

Cregan had been moving slowly north, stepping over tangles of brambles and avoiding tree roots thicker than his thighs, the men of the group formed a large crescent shape as they moved slowly, hopefully driving the animal toward a clearing. One of the men at the end of the line gave a sharp whistle to indicate the group should stop, instinctively his head moved toward the sound and in that split second of distraction Cregan missed the rustling of dead leaves and the heavy breathing of an animal charging.

The great tusk of the boar gored his left thigh. Cutting deeply through the skin to the muscle beneath, bright red blood immediately falling to the leaves at his feet. The power of the blow from the animal knocked him off his feet and sent him slamming into the cold ground, the back of his head knocking hard against a tree root. The metallic stink of blood filled his nose as shouts went up from the men of the household, they abandoned the hunt and gathered around their injured lord.

“Get the beast,” was all he managed to say before the wintery sunlight faded from his view and he wasn't aware of pain or cold anymore.

Lady Stark watched the hunting party return from the covered walkway between the Great Keep and the Armory. She expected to see Cregan leading the party, a triumphant smile on his cold reddened face with the great beast slung over the back of his stallion.

Instead it was Cregan's steward, Martyn, who galloped in at the front of the procession, his horse wet with sweat, its nostrils flaring as it snorted. The animals rider didn’t look much better, the steward’s face was fearful and the same colour as the bark of the weirwood tree, his pale brown leather jerkin was darkened with blood.

“My lady,” he called when he saw her watching, “Lord Stark’s been hur’, cut by the boar. Please send for the maester,”

His words caused a lump of ice to form in her stomach, chilling her from her heart outward. There was always a risk when the men went hunting, and more often than not her husband returned home with some small injury or another but this had to have been serious. As she dashed into the Great Keep she caught sight of a wagon being drawn by two great horses, on the bed of the wagon a tangle of fur and blood, she fought a wave of nausea at the sight and ducked inside the keep.

Her feet were light and silent as she reached the maester’s chambers, not bothering to knock on the old man’s door she threw it open with a crash.

The maester was startled by her sudden interruption, jumping up from his stool at the desk with surprising speed and agility for a man who was nearing 70. He opened his mouth, ready to scold whoever had so rudely burst into his rooms, but his words died on his lips.

“Lord Stark’s been injured in the hunt,” she said, praying her voice didn't waver and give away the fear that was gripping her throat like a claw.

“Injured how?” The maester replied, moving toward the large wooden sideboard that dominated the room. On the shelves were jars, bottles and boxes containing every substance needed by a maester, and probably a few they didn’t need as well.

“Gored, I don't know where, they've just arrived back, please come now,” she said firmly, not willing to keep Cregan waiting.

The maester nodded and gathered his heavy leather case from the side, the bag was filled with sharp tools and simple herbs and mixtures for most every day healing. He followed behind Lady Stark as she led them to the undercroft of the Great Keep, where there was a great deal of noise and disruption.

The undercroft was a dark, cool, enclosed space usually used for storage, most days it would only see one or two visitors but now it was alive as men lit torches around the walls while others heaved Cregan’s limp form onto the huge oak table that sat in the centre of the space. They stripped him out of his blood soaked outer clothes and left him lying in his linen shirt and woollen trousers.

The left leg of his trousers was ripped open at the mid thigh, revealing a 5 inch gash, skin and muscle had been torn apart and glistened dark red. A tourniquet above the wound had stopped most of the bleeding but his face was ghostly pale and his lips an unhealthy shade of blue.

Lady Stark moved slowly toward the head of the table where Cregan’s closed eyes made him look almost peaceful, the maester went straight to the wound and began cutting away at his trousers.

“Has he been talking?” he asked as he began to inspect the wound more closely.

“A little, but he was unconscious for a minute or so after it happened,” the steward replied, standing by Cregran’s right hip, wringing his hands together.

“Hello my love,” Lady Stark said softly, brushing her hand over his forehead, willing herself not to fall to her knees and weep when she felt how cold his skin was.

His grey eyes fluttered open and blinked slowly, trying to bring his wife’s face into focus, the world around him seemed to shift violently, left and right, up and down but her warm hand on top of his head held him steady.

“Now, what have you been up to?” she asked softly, as if addressing one of their children.

Cregan’s whole left leg throbbed painfully and his stomach roiled with nausea, he swallowed once, finding his mouth and throat dry.

“It's barely a scratch,” he croaked. Lady Stark gave a small huff that might have been out of amusement and stroked her fingers over the crown of his head.

“‘Tis a dreadful looking scratch,” she replied, “still, the maester’s here now,”.

Cregan hissed with the pain as the maester applied a green tinged ointment to the wound. Sweat broke out all over his body and he felt his hands start to tremble.

“Did they get the beast?” Cregan asked, once the initial wave of pain had passed and faded back into a constant throb.

Lady Stark glanced at Martyn who gave a small nod of his head.

“Of course, and you shall have the beast's head for your chambers if you want”.

He gave what appeared to be a weak nod before closing his eyes again and taking a deep breath. Cregan had known pain before but dislocated shoulders, broken bones and the sharp bite of Valyrian steel were nothing compared to this.

At his thigh the maester had soaked a small piece of linen in a clear, strong smelling substance that he placed over the wound before tightly wrapping a clean bandage before removing the tourniquet tied high up his thigh. As the blood was allowed to flow back into the lower leg the colour returned to the skin but there were no signs of excessive bleeding at the wound. The maeester turned his attention to Lady Stark.

“It’s as clean a cut as we can expect from a tusk, most importantly there’s no sign of dirt within, I have great faith that it will heal well,” the maester explained, wiping his hands on a clean piece of linen that was tucked into the belt at his waist.

“I'll go to my rooms now and make a poultice to fight infection and in the meantime he can be moved to his rooms to ensure he's comfortable,” he added.

With a small nod from Lady Stark the men still standing around the room went into action, they brought a stretcher and carefully moved Cregan from the table to the stretcher. He was then carried slowly through the Keep and up to his rooms. The masters chambers were the largest but the least used within the Great Keep, Cregan and his wife favoured the smaller but warmer Lady’s chambers, especially as they were the closest rooms to the children’s rooms.

Once he was settled on the bed she sent for two bowls of water and a cloth before stripping him of the last remaining pieces of clothing. Unable to lift him from the bed to get his shirt over his head she cut the fabric straight up the middle with a small knife, pushing the two halves over his chest and cutting the sleeves apart to expose his arms. She also had to cut away what was left of his trousers, finding some of the material stuck to his skin with blood.

Once he was as bare as the day he’d been born she soaked the cloth in warm water and set about washing him. Somehow the blood had managed to get up to his neck and down to the bottom of his left foot. She started at his neck, watching as droplets of reddened water ran down onto his chest and collected in the dark mess of curls that started at his collar bone, completely covered his chest and then funnelled into a thick strip that ran all the way down his stomach to the apex of his thighs.

“I swear you're more beast than man sometimes,” she said softly as she dabbed at his chest, lifting the blood from his skin and hair.

“It's the wolf in me,” he replied softly.

Her head snapped towards his face, she’d had no idea he was awake and seeing his soft gaze on her face brought a wave of emotion flooding through her body. The usual surge of love she felt whenever she looked at him, intense relief at seeing his cheeks a healthy flushed colour after how deathly pale he’d looked before and bubbling anger brought on by the extreme fear that still sat in her stomach like a block of ice.

“The wolf couldn't smell the boar sneaking up on you?” She asked as she felt tears burn her eyes. Cregan offered her a small, reassuring smile.

“The wolf is more,” he paused a second while he thought, “passive...”.

Unable to resist him, Lady Stark felt herself smiling and the two of them shared a laugh before she continued to wash him, revealing the pale skin under the dark curls and dried blood.

“You're lucky it wasn’t more serious,” she said softly as she wrung the red water out of the cloth into a mostly empty bowl before dipping the cloth back into clean water, “if it’d caught on the inside of your leg you'd have been dead before they got you home,” she added, an icy edge to her voice as the fear that had gripped her throat now throbbed behind her eyes.

“But I wasn't,” he placated gently, reaching out and taking hold of her wrist as she dabbed at his stomach.

“I'm fine,” he added when he noticed the tears gathering in her eyes and the angry wobble of her bottom lip.

She snatched the hand from his, throwing the cloth into the bowl of clean water at her feet. The water splashed up, catching the skirt of her dress.

“And what if you weren't? What if you weren’t fine? Your son is barely 9 months old Cregan, do you expect me to hold the entire North until he comes of age? Fighting off every grasping lord from The Wall to Dorne trying to get to him and steal his birthright?” An angry tear tracked down her cheek.

“I cannot be regent, Cregan, I cannot be here without you,”.

He reached out again and took hold of her balled first at the wrist, bringing her hand towards his face, pressing a soft kiss to her curled fingers.

“And nor will you be,” he said softly, his lips still touching her fingers, “you and I are going to grow very old together, so old they write songs about us when we're all but turned to dust,”.

She gave a small, watery laugh through her tears and pulled her hand out of his again.

“Now you're just placating me,” she said, reaching into the bowl for the cloth and ringing it out.

“Of course I am,” he replied with a smile, stretching his right arm up and settling it behind his head, the bend in his arm causing his muscle to flex and bulge under his skin. Were it not for the bandage around his leg he would have looked as if he was just relaxing for the evening.

“I understand well that my most important duty is keeping you happy,”.

Lady Stark scoffed at him and returned to the gentle washing of his stomach. A small smile tugging up the corners of his lips as he watched her tending to him so carefully. He'd been in a fair few scrapes before this one and was always happy to be tended to by his wife, the mixture of her gentle hand and sharp words always made him feel better.

“Am I permitted to say how I'm enjoying your undivided attention?” He asked.

“You may not say it” she replied, flicking her eyes to his face and catching him grinning at her.

“I shall just think it then,”.

They both fell into a tense silence as her cloth inched closer to the bandaged wound. The maester had said he would come by later that day to stitch the wound closed once it had time to dry and he could be certain there was no rot. Sweat broke out across his body as her gentle touch began to feel like needles piercing his skin, he kept his jaw firmly shut, unwilling to let a single sound of pain pass his lips.

“Would you take something for the pain?” She asked, not needing to hear him cry out to know he was in great discomfort, she wrang the cloth out again wetted it with clean water again.

“I would rather keep my wits,” he replied, his voice strained.

“Then perhaps a little when we’re finished and you can rest?” She pressed. She knew he disliked the effects of milk of the poppy but seeing him in such pain made her heart ache.

“Perhaps,” he nodded before pressing his lips tightly closed, redoubling his efforts to stay silent.

She finished his bed bath at his left foot, cleaning the dried blood from the bottom of his toes and the ball of his foot. And all the pain that had passed before paled in comparison to the agony he felt as her hands gently tended the most ticklish part of his body. He fought with every ounce of willpower to stay still and not curl his toes and kick his foot out of her hands.

Once finished she rung the cloth out one final time before standing and carrying the two bowls of water across the room and setting them aside to be cleared away later.

“Will you sleep for a while? She asked him, moving back toward him and running her hand over his forehead before drawing a soft woollen blanket over his nakedness.

Cregan nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted and wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep until the dawn of the summer.

“Alright, will you take a little milk of the poppy?” she asked.

He nodded again, opening one of his eyes to peek at her face.

“And a kiss to sweeten it?” He asked, letting the corners of his lips quirk up just a touch.

She laughed softly, taking the small bottle of white milky liquid from the table beside their bed. She unstopped it and helped him lift his head off the pillow, she held the bottle to his lips while he took a small swallow before dropping his head back onto the pillow with his eyes closed.

“And to make it sweet,” she said, bending and pressing her lips to his.

As she stood he opened his eyes again although she could already see he was fighting the effects of the milk of the poppy.

“Kiss the babies for me as well?” he asked.

“Of course,” she replied, stroking his forehead again and watching his eyes close as he finally gave in and allowed himself to be dragged into a dreamless sleep.

She watched him for a few minutes, keeping an eye on the steady ride and fall of his broad chest. In sleep he always appeared to be younger, his features softened as sleep took away the worries and the duties he carried on his shoulders every day.

Once she was happy he would sleep for a while and there was nothing else she could do for him, Lady Stark went in search of Martyn the steward, she knew he would be worried and was waiting for news of his lord and friend.

She found him outside the stables, running a brush over Cregan’s stallion.

“Is he alright?” Martyn asked as she approached him. There was a panicked edge to his voice and his face betrayed his worries.

“He'll be fine,” she soothed with a nod, “he's made of strong stuff,” she added as she placed a comforting hand on his forearm.

“I'm sorry he was hurt, my lady,” he said, already looking lighter knowing Cregan was alright.

“You've nothing to be sorry for, he's a man grown and it's his own fault if he doesn't hear a boar sneaking up on him,” she said, making her voice playful and teasing.

“I'll pray for him,” the steward said, returning to brushing the huge grey horse that stood patiently in front of him.

“Thank you, I know he'll appreciate that,”.

She stayed talking to the steward a little longer, the two of them discussing how to make the best of the creature that’d been killed that morning. The sky was quickly darkening and the air turning colder by the minute, although no new snow had fallen that day there was a crisp smell of it on the air and dark, heavy clouds covered the sky, threatening a heavy snowfall that night.

She left Martyn to his final tasks for the day and returned to The Great Keep, she went first to the nursery to look in on their children. The eldest, Aly, was playing on the floor with her nurse, the two of them racing carved wooden animals across the floor. She paid no attention to her mother when she entered the room, too caught up in her game, while their son slept in his cradle.

She lifted the boy from his crib and carried him to a chair beside the fire where she sat, focusing on nothing other than the small sound of his breathing and the tiny movements as his chest expanded and contracted with every breath.

After a few minutes Aly got up from her spot on the carpet, her wooden horse still clutched tightly in her small hand as she walked toward her mother.

“Where's papa?” She asked, coming to stand beside the chair, reaching out her own empty hand to take her mothers.

“Resting, the men went hunting this morning, do you remember?”.

“Will he put me to bed?” Aly asked, letting the toy horse drop from her hand with a small thud.

“Not tonight, I can do it tonight,” Lady Stark replied.

The girl sighed heavily, like she'd received some truly dreadful news, her small shoulders slumping.

“But Papa tells the best bedtime stories,”.

“I know he does, and I’m sure he’ll have a very special one for you tomorrow night,”.

After another heavy sigh Aly climbed up into the chair with her mother and younger brother, curling into Lady Starks chest and closing her eyes. The girl found a loose thread on the bodice of her mothers dress and begin to twist it around her finger, in a few minutes she too has slipped off to sleep.

The warm weight of her children soothed the Lady’s fractured nerves, this wasn't the first time her husband had returned home injured, his body was a tapestry of scars, each one she'd lovingly touched and kissed in turn, learning his scars as closely as a traveller learns a map.

When she heard the first spatterings of wet snow from the nursery window Lady Stark decided it was time for her to look in on her patient. Calling the nurse over and letting the young woman take the sleeping girl from her lap.

“Let her sleep a few more minutes, then wake her or she’ll never sleep tonight,” Lady Stark instructed as she stood and carried her small son back to his crib.

“And I'll be back to feed this one once I've looked in on Lord Stark,” she added, lowering him into the cradle and watching as he settled.

The nurse nodded and smiled softly as she lowered Aly onto her day bed, covering the girl with a soft embroidered blanket.

Cregan didn’t stir when the heavy oak doors of his chambers were opened and his lady wife stepped inside, she paused, watching him for a few moments to see that his condition was unchanged, the only difference was that he’d thrown the blanket off his body and was now lying naked, his whole body exposed to the cool air. Moving toward him she noticed his breathing was still easy and his cheeks were a healthy colour. She touched the back of her hand to his cheek and then his forehead.

At her touch his eyes flicked open and he blinked slowly as the world around him came into focus. He made a small sound of approval that rumbled up deep from his chest as his eyes focused on his wife.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly.

“Better for seeing you,” he replied, his voice gravelly.

“You're a dreadful flirt Cregen,” she replied with a smile, knowing his ability to flirt was a far better indication he was on the mend than anything else would be.

“Come lie with me,” he said, choosing to ignore his wife's chastisement.

“Only for a few minutes,” she replied, moving to the other side of the bed and climbing on it, settling herself beside him and placing her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and encouraged her to roll onto her side, tightening her body to his in a familiar and comfortable way and she sighed contentedly. Her hand rested on his chest, her fingers pushing and playing with the dark curls of hair. Cregan turned his head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling the warmth of her body sink into his own flesh and bones.

“I should ban you from future hunts,” she said, her voice muffled by having her face squashed on his shoulder, “make you take an oath never to put yourself in such danger again,”

“Even for you, I could not swear such an oath,” he replied, kissing her forehead again and keeping his lips pressed to her skin, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent from her hair.

The two lay in silence for several minutes, Lady Stark listening to the steady and deep drum beat of his heart, the thumping sound reminding her that he was still alive, injured but alive and home with her and in their private moment it was easy for her to believe that was the only thing that mattered in all the known world.

“But I can swear, it will only be death that keeps me from you,”.

#cregan stark #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x female reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfiction #tom taylor #fanfiction #hotd #hotd fanfic #house stark #cregan #cregan fanfic #cregan x oc #cregan x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark headcanons

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sophie-looks-at-stuff · 5 months ago

Text

The Dragon and the Dragon-less

Pairing: Aemond x Strong niece reader

Summary: The night Aemond had lost his eye, his sweet niece was the only one to provide him any sense of comfort. Many years later, when she returns to Kings Landing with her family, what should become of the two? ;)

Warnings: bad ship terminology (idk boats y'all sorry), Rhaenyra being kind of a bad mom (love her tho), Targcest/incest, softer Aemond, smut in the dragon pits, this one is kind of long haha

AN: Hey y'all! Since my first fic seemed to be received so well (thanks so much to everyone for that:) I decided to write another one! I'm staying on the Aemond train since I've never left it since day one haha. Let me know tho if there are any requests!

PS: I haven't gone through and totally edited this so don't mind the spelling or grammar issues if there are any!!

It had been awful, you remembered hearing the screaming and shouting from your chambers. The screeching having woken you up from a rather pleasant dream about eating cake–

In nothing but your night clothes, and a quilt draped around your shoulders, you padded down the chilly hallways of Dragonstone.

“ – it was my sons who were attacked!” You hear your mother yell. Concerned you took a few more steps forward, finally able to make out the scene before you. Your mother and your brothers to one side, while Alicent and her boys on the other, the fire raging in the hearth between them.

Your wide lilac eyes meet those of your stepfather, Prince Daemon, he reaches a hand out towards you as if to say “Come here”. Your feet did not move, rooted to the spot, eyes glancing around the room once more. You see something you hadn’t noticed before, Aemond, in the corner of the room, surrounded by maesters. A hand over his eye, thick, sticky fluid oozing from between his small fingers. Gasping, your own hands fly to cover your lips, perhaps to muffle the noise, or maybe to tame the scream building in your throat. Aemond’s healthy eye meets yours, pain, sadness but most of all fury over taking his features.

Just then your mother turns to meet you, her gaze worried and frantic, “My sweet girl! You should return to your chambers this is no sight for you dearest,” her hand, also bloody you notice, rests above her heart.

“Mother, w-what has happened? Aemond, h-he, is he alright–” You begin to question, Daemon takes a step towards you and you take one forward into the room. Your concerned gaze flits over to Aemond once more. Despite the fire in the hearth, the chill of the room has set into your bones, causing you to pull the quilt tighter around your shoulders.

“Come now byka zaldrīzes (little dragon) let us return you to your quarters. Aemond will be fine,” Your father attempts to comfort you. Maybe you are too tired to argue, or too shocked, your mind still attempting to comprehend what has happened. But you let your father guide you back to your chambers, the quilt trailing behind you like a cloak.

With a lullaby and a pat on the head, Daemon bids you good night once more. Closing the door softly behind him, his heavy footsteps receding off into the distance, presumably back to your mother and brothers. It feels like hours as you stare at the ceiling, listening, straining your ears for even just a morsel of information. But the halls beyond your door remain as silent as the grave. The chill in your bones is stubborn, making you shiver. Sitting up and swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you wrap the quilt around your shoulders once again. As silently as possible, you open the door, the hall is empty save for the torches lining the walls. You’re bathed in the fiery orange glow as you step fully into the hall.

You’re not quite sure where your feet carry you until you turn the corner and are met with Ser Criston Cole. His tall stature taking up the door frame of the young prince's room, his gold cloak behind him like an inverse shadow. It’s not until you come to stand in front of him that he addresses you.

“Princess, you should not be here. You should return to your chambers,” He looks down his nose at you. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on the quilt.

“Please, Ser, I must see the Prince. What has happened to him? I must know if he is alright–”

“Your brothers have maimed him. Who’s to say you aren’t here to do the same? Perhaps your whore of a –” The door behind him creaks a bit, one of the maesters appears in its place. Bloodied rags and a needle are held in his hands. He sighs “The prince says she may pass Ser Cole,”

With one last look of annoyance and a warning mumbled under his breath, the knight lets you pass. The room is dark, lit only by a few candles on the bedside table. Aemond’s hunched form lays on the bed, the blankets up to his chin. As you make your way closer you can see the true horror of what has happened this evening. Where his eye once was, now lays only marred flesh, red and angry, the stitches pull at the swollen skin. You gasp, shocked, a sick feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.

“Ugly isn’t it?” Aemond asks you, bitterness lacing his voice. As he speaks you make your way to his side, sitting lightly on the bed, next to his hip. Your small hand searching for his under the covers, to comfort him, or maybe to warm your own.

“H-how did this happen? Who could possibly have–”

“Your brothers. Lucerys stole my eye. But an eye for a dragon is a fair price to pay is it not niece?” A proud, sad smile graces his features. While your brothers had dragons since they were but babes, you were not as lucky. Syrax had not laid a full nest, and your mother had decided it was best to give your brothers the two eggs. All the while you have remained dragonless.

“Vhagar is now mine, and on the morrow, we shall leave this wretched place. And I will fly on dragon back to the Red Keep.” His singular lilac eye meets yours. “I promise you, sweet niece, one day I shall take you for a ride on dragon back. Show you the freedom that comes with it,” His previously bloodied fingers intertwined with yours.

“I would like that very much uncle,” Looking down at your joined hands, a small smile of your own matching his.

— — — — — — —

The waters of the sea lap against the side of the ship, the slap against the wood echoing around you. Overpowered only by the screeching of your family's dragons above you. Alone, you ride on this ship, well alone save for the ship hands and captain assigned by your father. Still, at the age of nine and ten, you remain dragonless, made to travel to the Red Keep by boat.

Your brothers claim to Driftmark had come into question, prompting the visit back to your old home. You hadn’t been back here since–

Your mother and father had determined it best to keep the family at Dragonstone after Aemond lost his eye. Although you had always suspected part of the reasoning for that was your mothers fear of retribution from Alicent for what your brother had done. Perhaps it was a long time coming though, your brothers as well as Aegon had picked on Aemond ruthlessly for years prior to that night. You had been spared only by the simple facts that you were a little girl, and just weren’t in there presence as much. Despite your pleas to join in the yard for training you had been denied, and turned towards the library instead to study “things more befit for your station” as your mother had put it.

“We shall dock shortly Princess,” the ship captain’s voice drifted to you from behind the wheel. You stood on the platform with him, looking beyond the masthead, you see Syrax and Caraxes land in the dragon pits. You sigh, it looks like you’ll arrive alone at the Red Keep, not expecting your mother to wait for you. Her and Daemon needed to prepare for the events of tomorrow.

Arriving at the Keep felt haunting, the lack of a welcome only contributing to that fact. Once docked, you were met by a singular carriage and it’s driver. The captain had assured you that your belongings were to be delivered to your chambers shortly. For all your fathers faults he did have good trust and faith in those he employed. The ship’s captain had been with your families since you were a girl. He and yourself not unfamiliar with these lonesome journeys.

The gates of the Red Keep came into view as you rolled over the bumpy roads of Kings Landing. Gold Cloaks lined the gate’s walls, closing the massive gate doors behind you, shutting you in, locking you within the castle grounds. The carriage comes to a jumpy halt, the driver offering you his hand as you disembark your ride. Your fingers slip into his as your boots squelch in the mud below you, the clanging of swords and metal meet your ears.

“Nephews, have you come to train?” A voice says, one you could not recognize. From across the yard you see your brothers, you wave to them, hoping to catch their eye. Luke turns his head towards you, a small smile playing at his lips. Noticing this, the source of the voice follows his gaze, a singular lilac eye meeting yours.

“Niece, how you have grown–” Aemond’s lone eye takes in your figure. My how you’ve grown indeed. Last time he had seen you you barely came up to his chin, your silver locks a messs contained in small braids. The flush that never seemed to leave your cheeks remained however. You had grown taller, still standing shorter than himself, which he finds excites him a bit. More than it should perhaps. You had grown into yourself in a way that was very pleasing to his eye, your face fuller and lovely. Your curves soft and plush, inviting him to touch and caress them.

“Uncle,” you offer him a small curtsey. You can hear Jace scoff, as if annoyed by the action. Wanting yo say more, but not knowing what, you continue to look at one another. Your own eyes take in your uncle, he had grown taller, much taller. His muscles lean and corded beneath his tunic. His silver hair almost as long as yours, is pulled back slightly in a braid. Some hanging free, escaping their confines during his sparring. His eye was now covered in an eyepatch, made of black leather, the tops and bottoms of the scar still visible even with it on.

The arrival of another carriage turns your gaze to the left, where you yourself had arrived only moments ago. Vaemond Valaryon steps out of the carriage and into the yard, sparing a glance at the Prince and your brothers. A look of disgust crosses his face as he lays his eyes on Luke.

— — — — — — —

The meeting to question Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark is long and dull, at least in the beginning. Mustering his limited remaining strength your grandsire had sat the thrown. Disputing Otto and Alicent in their claims. He looks horrible you think. His skin looks to be gray and sloughing off of his bones. The Stranger would be coming for him soon. It is not until Vaemond brings into question your brother’s parentage once again, that the apprehensive peace shatters.

“And she is a–”

“Say it,” your father’s hand that rests on the hilt of Dark Sister tightens, knuckles whitening.

“ – a WHORE!” In one swift blow, Daemon sends Vaemond’s head rolling across the floor of the throne room. Blood trailed behind the appendage like a snail’s trail. The room is filled with gasps and short screams. Your own eyes widened looking at the head on the stone floor before you. By no means are you unfamiliar with your father's violent nature, and nor should the rest of the court.

“Let him keep his tongue,” Daemon wipes the blood off of his blade, stepping back, sheathing the sword once more.

As if some kind of magic pulls you, you lift your eyes from Vaemonds severed head and meet those of your uncle. A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he looks to be well entertained by the violent display. Caught in your staring, Aemond’s gaze rises to meet your own, his smirk widening into a more sadistic smile.

“Now, for the final order of business. A more pleasant way to end this affair,” the king says, his mellow voice carrying across the stone-lined room. “I am blessed by the Gods to have such a large family, but it appears that the Gods hope to bless us some more,” It was becoming increasingly more clear that Alicent’s love for The Seven has bled not just into the castle but its people as well. You think maybe it gives the king something comforting in his final days.

“My son, Aemond, a fine warrior and scholar,” Aemond stands rigid and straight, uncomfortable with the new attention from his father. “And my granddaughter, if your mother had not already claimed the title of Realms Delight then it would be most certainly passed to you.” Your cheeks flush a bright pink, warmth rising to the tips of your ears.

“This family has been divided for quite some time, I tend to rectify that. Aemond, my son, and my granddaughter the princess, shall be married,” The reactions around the room are mixed, some people applaud, some cover their shock with their hands. Wide, prying eyes jump between you and Aemond. You dare a look in his direction, he is still staring, the smile gone from his face now. Confusion, shock, anger? You cannot tell but it is not sweet, and it is not kind.

A wave of confidence washes over you as you step forward, “What is the meaning of this? Why have I not had any indication of this until now?!” You feel your mother’s hand grasp your elbow, urging you to stand beside her, silently. “It is the wish of your grandsire, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon). He is dying, do not fight him,” Your head whips aside, meeting her eyes, eyes filled with sadness. Did she know of this? Did she approve of this? Your father would not meet your eyes, nor your brothers, Jace toeing at an invisible stone on the floor. Did they all know, except for you?

You tear your elbow from your mother’s grasp, she opens her mouth to speak once more, but your back is already turned. Your feet lead you towards the grand door. You had to leave, you needed to be anywhere else but here. Your chest tightens, your breathing ragged. Not with sadness or grief, no, but with anger and fury. You feel as though you could breathe fire as the dragons do. An angered scream tears past your lips, reverberating off of the stone walls of the Red Keep.

— — — — — — —

You had decided it best to skip the family feast. And a good thing too, unbeknownst to you it had gone horribly. Lucerys mocking Aemond over the roasted pig, Aemond's “final tribute” to his Strong nephews. No, instead you had taken your dinner in the library, back amongst your beloved books. The sun had set an hour or two ago now, the torches along the halls lit. You didn’t know how late it was, you had been much too absorbed in your novel Lady Coryanne Wylde, A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls.

The wax on the candles had burned low, and your wine had turned cold. It was time to retire. Taking the book with you, you began to make your way toward your chambers, your old chambers. The last time you had slept there you had been but a girl. As you turn the corner you are met with a hard wall of warm, corded muscle. Your book tumbling to the ground. A pair of strong hands plant themselves on your shoulders, to steady you.

“Careful niece, someone might think you are up to no good, wandering the corridors, at night–alone” The smile from earlier returns to his lips, and just then, he notices the book on the floor. His smile becoming impossibly wider, you don’t think you’ve ever really seen Aemond smile, not like this anyway. It’s nice, you think to yourself.

“What’s this dear niece,” he bends down to pick up the novel, his slim fingers sifting through the pages, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, well, who would have thought–”

“Give that back!” You reach to snatch it from him, like a child, but he just holds it higher over his head. “Tell you what, I made a promise to you. Do you remember?” Of course, you remembered, you still thought about it sometimes, but all hope of fulfilling it had left you.

“Yes–” it came out more hoarse than you had intended. Your hand frozen, outstretched, Aemond still held the book over his head.

“Come with me to meet Vhagar, for a ride,” he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Come taste the freedom of the skies with me niece.” He had tucked the book behind his back. Aemond wasn’t a man who typically waited for an answer, nor was he one who liked when people disagreed with him. He’d throw you over his shoulder if he must. Even though his hatred for your family ran deep, he could never seem to hate you. You had endeared yourself to him time and time again as children, but the night he lost his eye. The night you visited him, the only one not angry, the only one not repulsed by his face. He knew then that he could never hate you, no matter how hard he’d tried.

Words had suddenly failed you, your tongue dry. You simply nodded instead. In response, Aemond straightened to his full, imposing height, and turning without a word, he began his stride down the hall, towards the dragon pits. You followed him, but neither of you spoke, the halls of the Red Keep filled with an odd sort of comfortable silence. His hair had grown longer, much longer, and he walked with a sense of confidence that hadn’t been there before.

The night air was chill, a slight breeze blew through your hair, tousling the strands. You were glad you had worn a gown with longer sleeves, it must be chilly up in the clouds. Aemond was sporting his riding clothes, the leather over his tunic reaching his wrists. He looked good, really good, you thought to yourself. The flush from earlier returning to your cheeks, as well as the warmth in the tips of your ears.

Aemond comes to a stop before the pits, waiting for you, the book still behind his back, taunting you. You suppose that was his insurance policy in case you had said no to joining him. You can only imagine your father's reaction to seeing you read such debauchery. You were his sweet little girl after all…

“Come now niece, no harm shall come to you while I am near,” He held his hand out to you, and you slipped your fingers between his. His hands are much smoother than the ship captains from earlier, you thought. His hand was warm, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins. The sound of beating wings from up above drew you out of your daze. A dark shadow crossed over the pair of you, coming to land only several passes in front of you. Vhagar stood proud and strong, if not slightly tired. Her form was weathered by time and battle. It’s a blessing from the Gods that she can still take to the skies as she does.

Aemond drew you nearer to her, your hand still held tightly in his, like all those years ago. “Give her a pat, she won’t bite, not unless I tell her to,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke, your eyes widening slightly, making him laugh all the more. “No need to be frightened, she’s quite gentle actually,” He guided your hand up to the beast's snout, his fingers had moved to circle your wrists, making the action easier. Your hand lay splayed out before you against Vhagar’s scales, her skin impossibly hot. The hand on your wrists moves to cover your own on the dragon. From behind you, Aemonds other hand rests on your waist lightly, like a whisper on the wind. Mayhaps this marriage won’t be too bad after all? Your anger from earlier was not directed at him you realize, but rather at the other members of your family. You were never pleased when things were kept from you when you were lied to. You like his hand there, you like it a lot, it provides you a sense of comfort and security as you stand before this large beast. You wonder how his calloused hands would feel elsewhere…

Aemond retracts his hand, yours following closely behind, you can still feel the heat of Vhagar’s scales on the skin of your palms. You begin to be tugged backward in the direction of Vhagar’s saddle. Aemond motions for you to begin climbing the ropes that lead to the mount, he follows behind you; prepared to catch you should the need arise. The saddle is less like a saddle and more like a small chariot on top of the dragon. It comfortably seats the two of you, and could even squeeze in a third.

Aemond positions you in front of him, his legs caging yours, his arms reaching around the front of you to grasp onto the reigns. “Are you ready?” The question is whispered to you, his lips brushing your ear once more as he speaks. You rather like this position, the warmth radiating off of his body will surely keep you warm above the clouds.

“Yes, yes I think I am,” Your own hands come up to rest atop his, surely just to steady yourself, and not at all because you were becoming increasingly more desperate to touch or be touched by the man behind you.

“Sōvēs Vhagar!” Aemond pulls back and yells into the night air, sparring your delicate eardrums. The beast below you growls and jolts into action. She takes a few long strides before beginning to beat her wings, as she takes off into the crisp night air.

Eyes glued shut you think you yell out a little yelp of initial fear and surprise. Aemond’s legs press tighter down on your own as if to reassure you that you are safe with him and his dragon. As Vhagar evens out her flying, coasting just above the clouds, you dare to open your eyes. Behind you, Aemond cannot stop the smile from spreading across his lips, he cannot see your face but he hopes it is a happy one. He’ll take you out flying every day that you are married if it will make you happy. He would burn the world down if it meant he could keep you safe and happy. To make you his.

Truthfully he wasn’t all that surprised by his father’s announcement of your betrothal. As a boy, even before the incident, he had asked his mother and grandsire, Otto, what lords would court you, and if any would be good enough for a princess. It wasn’t until after he lost his eye that he first breached the subject of marriage to his mother. He’d told her he deserved it, that after all the pain he had gone through, it was only fair for him to spend his life beside someone whom he cared so deeply for. At the time his mother had just given him a kiss on the forehead saying “Perhaps one day, we shall see,” A sad smile had crossed her face then.

He’d given up on the hope of marrying for love after that. The ladies of court found him elusive and repulsive, opting to flirt with his brother, despite his marriage to Helaena. A few moons ago, Aegon had made a jest at Aemond’s expense, something about being tied to a Strong for all eternity. He had ignored it, deeming it nothing more than one of his brother's drunken comments. However, after the events of today, it seems he was not jesting after all.

Aemond is broken out of his thoughts by a lovely, bubbly sound. You’re laughing, your arms spread wide, fingers splayed out letting the wind rush through them. He immediately goes to grasp your waist, his legs still caged around yours, steading you, anchoring you to him and the saddle.

“What the sweet Hells are you doing?! Put your hands back on the reigns!” He exclaims. You giggle some more, the wind drying your teeth as you smile.

“I cannot uncle! You were right, this is marvelous! I feel as though I could rule the world from up here!” He had never seen anyone as dazzling as you were in this moment. Vhagar gave a slight jolt as she began to descend back downwards, causing you to jump forward a bit, hands grasping the reigns once more.

“I told you – “ He murmurs against your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. After another moment Aemond begins to guide Vhagar back towards the dragon pits. There’s a strain in his trousers he can ignore no longer. Years of pent-up desire and want boiling over. Ever the gentleman, he assists you in descending the beast. This time he goes first, his hand in yours as he helps you with the final jump down.

“That was incredible, uncle that was truly –” Aemond uses his grip on your hand to tug you forward, clutching you to his chest, his lips meeting yours. You gasp into his mouth, surprised by the boldness of his actions. Before you are given the opportunity to reciprocate, he pulls away, a slight frown on his face.

“My apologies, I should not have–”

“Yes, you should have actually. Why did you stop, I was quite enjoying myself,” You pull on the collar of his tunic, tugging his chapped lips back down to yours. Aemond uses his taller stature to guide you back up against a pillar within the pits. The two of you made only out of sight by half of a pillar, and Vhagar’s sleeping form.

“And what if I were to take you, right here? Right now? Like a scene from your debaucherous novel,” He exclaims, his lips moving, forming a trail from your jaw down to your collarbone. Surely leaving marks, and love bites as he goes. Oh if only his brother could see him now, he thinks that perhaps Aegon would congratulate him on finally “getting it wet”.

His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere, all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. The smell of the oils used to wash his hair filled your nostrils, the smokiness from Vhagar had made a home in the threads of his clothes. You’re nearly positive that you must smell similar, you’ll need to get your gown cleaned certainly.

Your hands began to fumble with the belt of his trousers, your fingers making clumsy work of the buckle. Aemond pulls away only for a moment to assist you, then he begins to work on the strings of your corset. His movements were desperate and quick, neither of you having the patience to wait much longer. All the while his lips never left your skin. You feel him smile against your skin as Vhagar makes a slight noise of annoyance at your escapades. Somehow between your messy kisses, your skirts had been rucked up to your hips, Aemond’s deft fingers making contact with your small clothes.

“You’re rather wet dear niece. Do I rile you up so huh? I wonder how wet you’ll be with my cock inside your sweet cunt,” He says that last bit almost more so to himself rather than you. In response, a small whimper escapes your lips. Aemond looks up to meet your eyes. A certain twinkle reflects at you from his.

“Another night I shall spend hours ravishing you, but I need to be inside you, now.” He gives his cock a few strokes, preparing himself. Your eyes widen at the sight, his shaft long and thick, his head red and leaking arousal. It was, invigorating, knowing that you could illicit such a response from him. With a delicate kiss to your lips and one final look of permission, Aemond sheathes himself inside you. Your warm walls squeeze him perfectly, welcoming him in. Gods he could stay right here like this forever.

“ – move. Aemond Gods move please,” You begged him, your walls had adjusted to him. Feeling wonderful and full. He began slow, his thrusts taking on a rhythmic flow. Aemond tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smelling your hair, his grunts and groans in your ear. You drag your nails down his clothed back, perhaps next time you’ll be able to fully leave your marks on his skin. Thank the Gods Vhagar had decided to remain put, it would ruin your honor should anyone find you like this; even though your virtue was promised to him already.

“Fuck– I don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved). You are just too perfect–” He cuts himself off with a grunt.

“Finish then, let go Aemond, let got for me please, I–” You beg him, you need it just as much as he does.

“Not before you ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved).” Aemond moves down to circle your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. The pace of his thrusts picked up, your hands remained looped around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.

“Aemond, oh Aemond, Gods I’m gonna–” The words that left your mouth made hardly any sense. The words and phrases twist and turn into a bizarre hymn to your betrothed.

“Cum, cum for me Jorrāelagon (love), give yourself over to me–” Aemond begged you. His lips biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck. On his command, a wave of pleasure washes over you, like the seas crashing into the shores of Driftmark. You remember drifting off to sleep as a girl to the lullaby of the sea. Aemond’s own release follows closely after your own. Still nestled inside of you, he rests his forehead against yours, sighing contentedly.

“You know, when I was a boy, I had asked my mother to ask Rhaenyra for your hand. I had begged her actually,” He chuckles a bit at his anecdote.

“Did you?” You laugh along with him, less at the story and more so at the ridiculousness of your current situation. You feel him nod, his forehead brushing against yours as he does so.

“Well,” you say in response, “ I had always wanted a dragon of my own. I had begged my mother actually”, you imitate Aemond’s words, giggling a bit as you do, “but now I need not ask any longer. For I have my very own dragon right here.” You place a kiss on his nose as you say this.

“Well my love, no longer shall you be dragonless, not as long as I am around anyways,” Aemond reassures you. He supposed he had two dragons now as well, with Vhagar he would burn the world down, but you gave him a reason to do so. With fire and blood he would protect you, love you, for that is the way of the dragon, that is the way of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your beloved betrothed.

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@ helaenaluvr @ anukulee

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #house of the dragon #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond x reader smut #hotd #aemond #prince aemond targaryen #soft aemond #sweet aemond

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lucysarah-c · 5 months ago

Text

Part 3 of Levi's horrible flirting skills.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

‘It can’t be that hard, it can’t be that hard... just go and talk, talk confidently and all cocky like you do to MPs. Just-!’

“Hello, Captain.” She bent to her side as she looked into his eyes, her hair falling flawlessly following the tilt of her head.

Levi sat down in the hallway, stood still for a second as suddenly her face appeared in his view. “Hello.”

‘No. That’s not it, ask her back-’

“Is Erwin busy?” She smiled softly.

“In a meeting with the higher ranks,” Levi quickly answered as if it were an exam question, he had memorized. He had been waiting outside for the blond to be done, easily ten minutes already.

A subtle hum of approval, she straightened up and said, “Oh well, I won’t bother you any further. Have a nice day.”

Levi’s lips parted but before he could come up with a possible idea, she had already made it halfway through the corridor and was now talking to another friend. Lips pressed together, he looked at the pattern of the marble floors, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.

“... fuck me,”

“A friend is asking you for a favor, how mean can you be?”

“My FRIEND has guts enough to insult the commander of the Military Police to his face who is ALSO my friend. He needs to use the same guts to ask her out on his own,” Erwin argued back as they were taking a break from a meeting in his office. “I already told him; I’m not going to get involved. Y/N is like a little sister; I’ve known her since she had baby fat on her cheeks -”

“It’s not like I’m planning on hurting her!” Levi defended himself as if Erwin were accusing him of the worst.

“No, but I know what kind of stuff you’re into and I prefer not to encourage it... especially with Y/N.” Erwin shook his head slightly as if the mental image was too much to bear, “If she’s into that kind of stuff, fine, but I prefer not to be the one who encourages it for the sake of my mental peace.”

“You turned out to be so prudish,” Hange said between chuckles, “You’re such a baaaad friend.”

Erwin dedicated a general unhappy grimace and said, “He is already Humanity’s strongest soldier. If that title doesn’t land him a girl, then it’s not my fault he can’t get her.”

“It’s different, in the underground I didn’t have to talk... usually they were the ones who did the talking,” Levi said, slightly defeated. Life was easier when the other person was the one winning his attention.

“Aww, shorty. If it makes you feel better, I’m rooting for you!” Hange said, throwing one arm over the Captain’s shoulder and pushing him closer.

Frowning deeply, Levi clicked his tongue. “You’re rooting for me, or you are enjoying seeing me fail?”

The brunette balanced with both of their hands, silently implying “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

Package playing on his fingers, they were usually given snacks during meetings. The red cover shined under the light. Levi looked to his right side where she was waiting. The rebellious baby hairs on the side of her ears glittered under the light as the paper of the chocolate did in Levi’s hands.

Without saying a word, Levi’s right hand moved slightly in her direction and made the offer. His gray eyes looked deeply into her side profile until she noticed the attention. First, she looked at him and then down at his gift.

Subtle smile, “Thank you, but I’m allergic to nuts,” she quickly said before returning to look in the other direction as the chocolate returned to be held by both of his hands.

‘... I can’t be this fucking unfortunate.’

The reddish tint spread over her lips, gliding. Making it even by pressing her lips together and making little popping sounds, then her fingers took off the excess and tapped it on her cheeks. While she admired her reflection in the tiny mirror, Levi had his attention fixed on her shiny lips.

Subtle color made them look plumper or blushed and the shine only added to it. Levi had to remind himself to breathe and that he was in public because his mind began to delve into forbidden territory. Imagine her lips parted, looking at him, red lips matching her cheeks after he pried her mouth open, sucking her breath. What it would feel like to grip her neck and hold the bottom of her jaw to push her closer only to then tug the back of her hair.

“You think it looks too much?” she asked him. Levi felt as if he had been caught red-handed.

“Ehm-” he stuttered slightly as the head over his shoulder reclaimed the power of rationality, “No?”

She looked breathtaking, the white of the uniform mixing perfectly with the subtle crimson. Levi cursed under his breath as she simply did a side smile, almost forced, then went back to look at her reflection doubtfully.

“Sometimes I feel I should add something to look less plain,” she commented.

‘Say something, motherfucker!’ Levi’s mind called out the one supposedly in charge of social interaction.

“Some people are into that.”

‘I’m into that, I will gladly show you how much I’m into it. It would be my pleasure.’

A sarcastic scoff left her nose and a sort of defeated grimace, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

‘No no, wait. I meant it nicely, why the hell are you looking so sad?’

“There’re a lot of people with bad taste,” she added half as a joke and half as a bittersweet reality.

“SoMe PEoplE ArE inTo ThAt,” Levi made fun of his own voice as his forehead slapped against the cold harsh surface of his desk, “WHO the HELL says that?”

If pain was the best discipline, then perhaps hitting his own head against the table would knock some sense into him, “I could have said, ‘You look good. That color suits you.’ NO! I had to say the most shitty, stupid shit that humankind had ever fucking seen.”

“Either my mother dropped me as a baby because she was tired or Kenny’s kick actually damaged my brain because otherwise there’s no explanation,” Levi muttered as his forehead remained against his desk, dark locks spreading around against the surface.

A subtle knock on the door made him raise his face slightly and say, “Name and business.”

Eld walked in after he was allowed inside. Delivering more work but the presence of the ashy blond snapped some sense into Levi.

‘I’ve been asking two idiots who don’t get laid even in their wildest dreams. That’s the issue.’

“Eld, your fiancée. How is she doing?” Levi asked out of nowhere, surprising his subordinate.

The scout raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, but quickly concluded that it was because he had recently mentioned that they were looking for a kid. “She’s doing good! We went to her parents’ house the other day, sir.”

Levi didn’t know how to bring up the conversation on his own, so luckily Eld did it for him. “We had a blast because we passed by a house with a nice garden, and I told her that the first time I went to ask her out at her father’s shop, I was just a cadet and didn’t have any money. I cut some flowers from that house for her, and the old woman there almost hit me with her broom.”

‘Flowers, of course. How could I be that stupid?’ was all that Levi paid attention to. ‘What do women like? Cute shit. Like... flowers and... cats. Right?’

‘But I can’t just pop up with a bunch of fucking flowers; she’s going to think I’m a creep.’

Levi groaned uneasily as one step forward felt like two steps back. Did he have to talk himself into it for weeks? Yes. Was he confident about his decision? No. Did he feel like an idiot picking up a couple of flowers that only grew outside the walls during an expedition? Yes, but who the hell would dare to make fun of humanity’s strongest soldier?

Not many of those he picked up made it back to the walls in one piece, so it felt pathetically sad how only one tiny one survived for him to press dry between a couple of heavy books.

“I can’t give her this shit... dried-up grass has more presence than this,” Levi muttered, feeling the exhaustion of his body after an expedition, feeling his hopes drain and mix with the sadness of the lost members.

So, the single purplish flower remained in his notebook pocket, forgotten but also a permanent reminder each time he opened it.

“That’s so pretty,” her voice echoed as a distant dream that made Levi look up. He was visiting some of his injured soldiers, sitting next to them as he kept them company. His eyes followed where she was looking, and it was his open notebook with the flower serving as a bookmark.

She seemed to be on duty as she moved around the patients to check on their condition. “You should go and rest, Captain. You seem too tired,” she casually said.

But Levi remained with his eyes on the flower, then he looked at her, who had heavy dark circles under her eyes and a pale complexion. He could feel the blood rushing, but he hoped his stoic face would hide it. With all the courage he managed to gather, “Here, have it,” he said.

Y/N looked back at him, confused. “No no, it’s yours, Captain.”

“Tch,” Levi clicked his tongue, “No, have it.”

The surprise on her face slowly but surely changed into a subtle smile as her cheeks tinted red. “Oh my... why, thank you,” she said, taking it delicately and admiring it.

Levi nodded a bit. ‘Do not say anything, you’ll fuck it up,’ he thought, scratching the back of his undercut.

“Thank you, it will keep me company during study nights.”

‘Holy shit... she’s fucking gorgeous,’ Levi felt his breath being taken away as she smiled tenderly at him. He felt as if the gates of heaven had opened in front of him and the light from the window behind her was the choir of angels.

But quickly he realized he was in the middle of a hospital with a rainy day outside. “It will keep me company with my babies.”

“Babies?” Levi felt as if he had been thrown a bucket of cold water, and before he noticed, he had said that out loud.

“Oh yes! My babies!” she assured enthusiastically. “I’ve got one boy and two girls. They are the apple of my eyes, a blessing.”

‘Three? I mean... I like kids, but three already. If I want to have kids with her too, there would be too fucking many. My salary isn’t that good,’ Levi’s mind began to panic as if the idea of them having a family was a near future. ‘No no, let’s not be assholes. She’s being a good mother; let’s stand up as a man and-’

“Sometimes when I’m studying, I can only hear the clock and their purring-”

Levi’s mind did a dead stop, raising an eyebrow as a silent question.

“Purring? You know, cats purr.”

He felt as if his soul came back to his body. “Ah, you mean cats.”

“Well, yes! What did you think they were?” she said between chuckles, joking around.

“Kids?” he said without giving it much thought. An uncomfortable silence arose quickly as she looked back at him, confused, then blushed heavily.

“Captain!” she called him out as if the idea were ridiculous. “Please, don’t make me laugh. I’ve no prospect of it whatsoever. I’m happy with my cats.”

“The only shit I heard from all that was, ‘I’m single and there’s no other asshole in the picture,’” Levi said, sitting down in his desk chair, softly spinning to the sides. Resting on the chenille red back of the chair, arms folded, he looked at the ceiling with a subtle smirk on his face. He was in the same delusional happy trance he had been in the night he met her.

“Yeah,” Hange replied, but quickly added, “But it could also mean she’s happily single and she’s not interested in a relationship.”

Levi stopped moving his chair and turned his attention to the brunette. “If you’re looking forward to me feeding you to a titan in the next expedition, just say it, but don’t ruin my day.”

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out.

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innocent-artery · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober 5th: Goldmine

aka hair pulling with Rodrick Heffley

2k words

Summary: Rod learns something new.

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

"Y'think I should get a leather jacket?"

Your shoulders shook under the weight of Rodrick's arm as you chuckled. "Why, you get an idea for a costume?"

"Absolutely. Even got the name for it." You could see the familiar smirk he wore even as your eyes remained on the screen. Smoke billowed in your peripheral, the smell of his near-finished cigarette long since clung to your clothes.

"It'd be a cute couples costume too," he continued, "you could be Tina Gray."

You turned to look at him. "Oh could I now?"

"Yup." He grinned as he put his cigarette out. "You've got the bedroom personality for it too."

You swung a pillow at his face, but Rodrick easily caught it and tossed it behind him. You huffed in false annoyance, falling back into your spot curled up under his arm.

His hand fell absentmindedly to your hair, gently twirling strands around his finger. The sensation makes your eyelids heavy, getting sleepy as he continued to soothe you.

Until you felt a sharp tug. Your eyes flew open, and you audibly gasped. Your entire body froze, and you curse yourself when Rodrick turns his head. A soft "oh?" leaves his lips, which are curled up into a curious smile. It had only been playful tug, but that was before he knew you'd react like that.

"That's not how you do it," you breathe, ghost of a grin teasing your lips.

"Yeah?" His voice was a condescending lilt. "How d'you do it?"

Instead of speaking, you take hold of his wrist, pushing it towards the back of your head. His fingers thread into your roots and he takes a fistful, tugging slowly. Your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in a deep sigh.

Before your eyes close, you catch a glimpse of your boyfriend's reaction. His eyes are wide and full of amusement, and he's smirking incredulously. His brows raise, and you can see the gears turning in his brain.

"That's interesting," Rodrick mumbled, almost more to himself. "I wonder..."

He climbs up over you, legs caging in on either side of your hips. His foot kicks the TV remote onto the floor but Elm Street is long forgotten. His hold on your hair returns, the tingling in your scalp pulling a weak noise from your throat.

"Now, what would happen..." Rodrick's thought trails off as his fingers ghost over your throat, touch only featherlight until the pads of his fingers find your pulse points and press. Your breathing is shaky and your vision begins to blur, but your hands still fly to his shoulders. You might have even been a little embarrassed at how your hooded eyes began to cross if not for the fact that it just felt so good.

"Aw, y'like that?" Rodrick lilts, his face pulling closer to yours. Heat creeps up your neck.

"Y-yeah," you attempt to nod, but you aren't given much room for movement.

"I like that too, baby." He murmurs against your mouth before he kisses you slowly, tasting of nicotine and gum. They were gentle, teasing kisses, but quickly gave way to a more desperate rhythm as his tongue glided over your lower lip. He hummed a deep note when you let him in, when you whimpered as he started sucking on your tongue.

You let out a disappointed noise when Rodrick lets go of you, rolling back to sit but it's forgotten when he pats his thigh. You quickly oblige, skin heated and brain frazzled.

As soon as you're sat on his leg, the friction to your clit has you gasping into his mouth. Almost involuntarily, your hips began to roll against him, so slowly but enough to make your head swim and heat boil in your gut.

"Oh, sweetness," Rodrick murmurs in between kisses, "so needy already? I've barely done anything."

He knows he doesn't need to do much. Just a few words- or a tug of the hair- and you'd be turned into a pile of mush. He knows you too well, and he loves having that effect over you.

Even though he's teasing you, you can't be bothered to care, muttering an mhm and rutting your hips faster. Your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest, then trail to his thigh to ground yourself.

"Atta girl, keep goin'." Rodrick murmurs in your ear, licking a stripe down the shell of it, planting soft kisses wherever his lips wandered. "'M right here baby, that's it, yeah, good girl."

Rodrick's encouragement was sweet honey to your ear, and a sickening contrast to the hand that hand re-found purchase at your scalp, tilting your head back so that he could teethe at your neck, soft plucks of skin turning into bruising. Deft hands made work of your top, leaving your chest bare.

Your rutting became increasingly frustrated; your thighs burned and you weren't getting any closer to your high.

"Rod... need..." your words were mumbled and breathless, and your brain was too cloudy to be fully coherent anyway.

"Hm? Couldn't hear you, bunny, say that one more time?"

"Need more," you cried, hands pushing into Rodrick's hair when his tongue laved over your nipple.

"More what, baby?" He lilted, cupping and pinching your other tit lovingly. He groaned when your fingers clutched his hair tighter.

"Need you, Rod please..." you sighed, tugging at his wrist.

Rodrick chuckled. "Baby, I don't think I can do that. Might hurt you if I don't get you nice and prepped, yeah? How about we start with fingers?"

"Anything, please," you babbled, nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder.

"Alright, alright, I got ya. Let's get these off, hm?" He tugged at the belt loop of your pants. They were off in record time, along with your underwear, leaving your entire body bared to him. You felt naked, more than just literally.

Once you were situated on his lap again you tried pulling on the hem of his shirt. "Off," you mumbled. Happily he complied, and you took the opportunity to lean forward and plant loving kisses to his neck, his collarbone.

You didn't realize when you'd risen up off your behind that it gave Rodrick the space to slip a hand between your legs, pulling a squeak out of you, muffled against his jaw.

"Aw, so messy baby. A little hair pulling did all this?"

You knew that it was a few other things, but you were so far gone you gave him a whiny 'yeah' anyway. Rodrick's fingers massaged your entrance, gathering slick and smothering it around your clit, making obscene noises- probably on purpose.

"So fuckin' wet, sweet, y'hear that?" Rodrick presses kisses to your pulse point, up to your jaw, then kisses you deep. Swallowing your moans into his mouth as the kiss turns messy.

"Please, Rod..." you're breathless and your pleas are barely coherent, but Rodrick knows exactly what you're asking for. You keel when you feel a finger glide into you, curling up towards your stomach.

"Yeah, good fuckin' girl." Rodrick's grin widens at your reaction when a second finger joins the first. "Always so eager, hm? That's my girl."

"Yeah, 'm your girl," you pant, hips canting to meet his hand.

"That's right," he coos, thumb tracing wide circles over your clit. "So proud of you, my girl."

"Rod," you whine, "need you."

"Hm?" He hums between nips to your collarbone. "You have me."

You shake your head vigorously. "Need you inside."

This gets Rodrick's attention. His fingers slow, while his free hand moves from your hair to his pants. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his half-hard cock out from his boxers. You watch as he takes his fingers, soaked from your cunt, and wrap them around himself, stroking slowly. His head falls back against the couch, lips hanging open and you feel the sudden urge to bite them.

Before you get the chance, however, Rodrick is pulling you forward, lining himself up to take you. Slowly, so slowly, he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, smearing your slick around. You jerk when his head catches on your clit, sending electricity shooting up your spine.

"Rod..." you whine against his neck, "please."

"Please what?" You want to slap him for the knowing glint in his eye, but that was for another day.

"Please fuck me."

And who was he to deny you? Guiding your hip, Rodrick eased you down on him, guiding you but letting you set your own pace. The stretch set your loins on fire, but it was heaven.

Your head kicked back, and you let your voice have a mind of its own as you sunk down on him. Long and pornographic, and Rodrick matched it. You felt him throb inside of you.

"Fuck, sound so pretty." Rodrick started rolling his hips into you, and you cried out at the sensation. "Yeah, that's it. Moan like a fuckin' whore for me, c'mon."

And who were you to deny him? You had the house to yourself, and the name alone sent your brain into overdrive. He filled you up so nicely, and the drag of his cock inside of you made your skin tingle with delight.

"Rod, yeah, oh- just like that, ohmygod-" your voice was caught in your throat when Rodrick, with the usual knowing twinkle in his eye, takes a fistful of hair and tugs you forward into a sloppy kiss.

All of the sensations- that Rodrick was giving you- were sending you closer and closer to tumbling headfirst off of that ledge. The sting in your scalp, his tongue sliding against yours, the sounds of wet slaps and your combined moans. The smell of cigarettes and the heat of his skin under your fingers. The head of his cock piledriving into your cervix again and again and again.

"Rod I- oh god, I'm gonna- oh, so close- Rod please," you pant into his mouth, fingers raking down his chest and leaving faint red lines in their wake.

"I gotcha," he grunts, hand snaking between your bodies to press circles over your clit. You can hear it in his voice that he's holding back. You don't want him to. "That's it, baby, come for me. Make a mess on my cock, c'mon."

That extra pleasure is all it takes to have you diving headfirst into a mind-numbing orgasm. Your eyes screw shut, and all you can feel is Rodrick. Shaky hands rest on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as hot pleasure courses through you.

You're acutely aware of the hot spurts hitting your cervix, and the fluids seeping out of you, but your body is still tingling all over. Your voice has long since become scratchy, but that doesn't stop you from whimpering and crying as he coaxes you through it.

"Good girl, did so good for me, yeah?" His grip on your hair is no longer a grip, but gentle, soothing strokes, almost as if to apologize.

You hummed, dropping your forehead against his shoulder as you breathe. The smell of sex had permeated the air around you, and you were suddenly very aware of how sweaty you'd become.

"Think we need a shower, baby, c'mon." Rodrick nudged your head.

You wanted to, you felt sticky, but your body was on fire, this time with a less-than-pleasurable ache. Begrudgingly, you lifted yourself off of his now soft dick, hobbling down to reach for your clothes and then to the nearest bathroom.

The shower was peaceful, and the water was soothing on your muscles. You both worked in a comfortable silence.

"Well, I was right." Rodrick finally said.

"About what, the hair pulling?"

"Nope."

You turned around to face him, head tilted in confusion. His mouth was curled upwards and his eyes were lifted in a smile.

"You do have the bedroom personality of Tina Gray."

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley smut #rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley fanfic #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months ago

Note

Blood and Cheese does not happen. Instead, Daemon plots with his connections to kidnap Aegon’s most prized possession: his wife. They ask Agon and the Greens to give up the throne and she will be returned. Aegon is furious

Requests for HotD are opened again! I have a few in the work already, so make sure you are on the taglist to be notified when I post them <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The guards standing on each side of the small council chamber bowed their heads at their king. Aegon hated these meetings, finding them lengthy and uninteresting, but now that he wore the crown, he couldn't escape them.

He pushed the large door open and stepped in. Inside, one person sat at the table: his mother. Beside her, a man in armor stood. Their hushed conversation ceased as he arrived.

Alicent glanced at her son with a somber expression. ‘’Please have a seat,’’ she beckoned.

Aegon furrowed his eyebrows. ‘’Where is everyone else?’’

‘’Council meeting is canceled today,’’ she informed him gravely. ‘’We have more urgent matters to discuss.’’

Seating himself at the table's head, Aegon braced himself for what was to come. The tension in the chamber was palpable, and he knew something serious had happened.

Alicent hesitated for a moment, her eyes betraying the weight of the news she carried. ‘’There's been an incident,’’ she began, her voice strained. ‘’Before I explain further, I need you to stay calm.’’ Her eyes held Aegon’s, waiting for a silent promise before pursuing. ‘’We all know that Daemon still has connections in the city. Some of his men breached our defenses and infiltrated the castle and she…she was taken by the Blacks.’’

Aegon laughed dryly. This had to be a joke.

But he found no sign of jest in his mother’s solemn expression.

The king turned to the lord commander standing to her left. ‘’Where is my wife, Ser Criston?’’ he implored, still in disbelief that you had been taken.

Ser Criston's gaze fell to the ground, his silence speaking volumes. ‘’I regret to conform, your grace,’’ he murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. ‘’The queen has been taken.’’

Aegon felt as if the ground had been ripped from beneath him. His wife, his beloved, stolen from him — kidnapped — by the hands of their enemies.

‘’We've received a raven from Dragonstone,’’ Alicent informed, clearing her throat. She forwarded the rolled piece of parchemin to Ser Criston, who handed it to Aegon.

He unrolled the parchemin and read the message: As a result of stealing from the rightful heir, something of yours has been taken. Abandon the throne and she will be returned.

Aegon's jaw clenched so tightly that the parchment in his hand crumpled beneath his grip. His violet eyes filled with wrath as rage spread through his blood.

He rose to his feet, his voice dripping with fury. ‘’Ser Criston, tell the dragonkeepers to get Sunfire out of the dragonpit. I will go to Dragonstone myself and—’’

‘’I’d rather not,’’ Alicent interjected, her tone icy. ‘’Going to Dragonstone is driving yourself to your own death.’’

‘’I will not stand idly by while my wife is held captive by our enemies!" In a surge of anger, Aegon tore the silver crown from his head and flung it to the ground with all the force of his rage, the clang of the Valyrian steel reverberating off the stone walls like a thunderclap.

At his outburst, Alicent's lips pressed into a thin line. ‘’You may leave us, Ser Criston.’’

The lord commander nodded and exited the small council chamber in silence, leaving the king and his mother alone.

‘’You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne?’’ she stated, her tone heavy with implication.

Aegon's frustration boiled over, and he leaned against the back of his chair. He ran his hands through his silver hair, tugging at the roots in a gesture of despair and anguish. ‘’I never asked for that throne!’’ he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion.

All he wanted was his wife back, it was all he needed — you.

During his father’s reign, the castle had never been threatened. Viserys was a peaceful king, one who stayed away from conflicts. Therefore, he never had to worry about the loyalty or competence of his kingsguard.

Now that he had fallen and that a civil war had begun, the safety - and life - of those who lived in the castle was at risk. In the days following Aegon's coronation, all who had refused to swear to him had been beheaded. So, how could this have happened?

‘’I want these men’s heads,’’ he declared, his voice filled with a mixture of vengeance and determination as he straightened. ‘’Plot against the king and I will pay it back a hundred times over.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes@thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23@lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10@tabloidteen@timetoten@deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15@daemonslittlebitch@queenbeestuffs@severewobblerlightdragon@agentstarkid@msliz@vane1999-blog@fairyfolkloresposts@todaywasafairytale07@otomaniac@zgzgzh@thebeardedmoon@golden-library@kikyrizuki@hnslchw@camy85@winxschester

#aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon imagine #aegon ii targaryen imagine

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joonsytip · 10 months ago

Text

Withering for You || Seungcheol - Epilogue

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): tears, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, mention of alcohol consumption, lovesickness, healing, friendly threats, suggestive

Word Count: 5.7k

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

You're enjoying the peace and calmness that moving to a different country has brought within. It has been half a year since your divorce with Seungcheol had been settled, been four months of you making a decision seemingly best for you by moving out.

Both you and Seungkwan had wanted to open several branches of your academy all around the world because you both believed that music transcends barriers and connects souls.

Though your motive while shifting was a break from everything but it also resoluted to build another branch rooted to Melodease.

You are busy nowadays, given you've to overlook the purchase and legal matters, start taking care of the design, contract and staffing. Seungkwan has offered to come over and share the workload but you're always the one to brush it off. Because keeping yourself busy is the only way to not overthink about that one person whom you wanted to spend the rest of life but apparently it was too much of an ask.

The divorce, you had tried everything to withdraw it but you should have known, it was Seungcheol who wanted for it to happen at any cost. So eventually you succumbed to his stubbornness. He wasn't even willing to face you, making it impossible for you to reach out to him so you couldn't quite recollect when was the last time you saw him. All you could remember is he never again made an eye contact with you, since he left your house that fateful night.

A rift has been created between you and your friends. You were so mad at all of them for making Seungcheol aware of the bitter past that you've been hiding. They got earfuls from you whenever they breathed in your direction. You had stopped humouring them, even going as far as to inform them about your departure just two days before. A huge fuss was caused by Mingyu and Eunsoo while Seungkwan and Wonwoo blamed themselves quietly.

When Wonwoo had arrived at your doorstep the night before your departure to apologise and ask you to reconsider your decision, you in turn had assigned him a task which you couldn't do yourself.

Your parents visit you from time to time and it's your brother who crashes at your place the most because though everyone hesitates, he's the only one who doesn't lend an ear to your protests.

"It's been half a year, don't you think you should let loose and forgive those four.", Chan voices out distressed as he once again sees the string of texts and voice messages he received in the group chat he was suddenly added to one day just so your friends could get updates of you.

"You don't understand Chan. It was not their decision to make. You don't think I could have told Seungcheol if I wanted to?", you sit down frowning, "We did end up getting divorced after all. And even though I'd have dealt with my career, I don't know how he is doing on his own because now he would neither even confide in his family and nor he has many friends. It has become a fight against his family, against the people he cherished the most."

Chan understands your friends but most importantly he understands you, he nods and sighs, "There's something I haven't told you."

"Did Seungcheol come and apologize to you, mom and dad after I left?", you say giving a small smile.

Chan is flabbergasted, "How did you know?"

"I just guessed. I knew he'd come someday, it's only after I left. Wish I could have just gotten a glimpse of him before coming here. Why do I miss him?", you say suddenly fanning your face and look up trying to blink away the tears. Chan observes you silently.

Your heart still beats for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol rubs the wedding band which sits on his finger, lost in thoughts he then proceeds to caress the other wedding band the one he wears in a chain, which is also yours.

In the last few months, he solely focused on destroying Jiah. He went on to dig her past and accumulate every malicious deed, hurtful comments or poor gestures done by her throughout her life including all her flings. If it would have been earlier he would have had a hard time believing it all but not anymore. After gathering every possible bit, he made his PR team to work overtime to destroy her image. Each day new articles would resurface by random journalists on several platforms.

"I'm sorry, Cheol", Jiah cries at his feet, hands clasped, begging, "Please please just stop, I'm ruined."

Seungcheol laughs completely apathetic, "This has just begun. I'll bring you on the streets. I make you cry tears of blood."

Jiah looks him at horrified, "I'm begging you, we are best friends Cheol--"

Seungcheol burns at her words, "Since you showed me how best of a friend you are, it's my turn to show how great I can be. I won't stop until you dread hearing my name, until you regret what you've done. Hell, you've just heard of it, I'll make you live in it."

"I'll do anything you want, I'll apologise to Y/N please spare me.", Jiah continues to beg.

"Don't you dare utter her name with your filthy mouth. For the tears you made her cry, I'll make you cry tenfold. If you think there's gonna be an end to it, no, you'd suffer till your consciousness stays with you."

Then he makes the security drag her out of the building, onto the road.

Using her now completely ruined image, he pulled all cards to ruin off her father's company. Though he felt bad for her parents but they should have raised their daughter well and since they didn't it fell on their plate as well. That's what he had said to her father when he had the business go bankrupt.

Seungcheol doesn't stop here, he's still finding ways to put Jiah behind the bars, and if concrete proof doesn't knock on his door, he has his mind set on creating a whole new room of miseries for his said best friend.

But nothing he does gives him a sense of fulfillment. He's empty, heartbroken and a looser in love. Every time he remembers the way he had treated you, the schemes he had plotted against you, the venomous words he had said to you and the hatred he harboured towards you, they make him wanna disappear from the face of earth.

His parents don't get to see him, there's no monthly family dinner at the Choi's anymore.

Seungcheol who wanted to have you as his in all of the lifetimes, doesn't dare to make such a wish anymore. He has failed you, so he accepts the fact that you deserve the best. Someone who's not him. Someone who gives you all the smiles and none of the tears.

The wedding gown which you left untouched in his closet when you had moved out, Seungcheol walks in every night just to hold the garment. He imagines you in it and hugs it to his chest pouring his heart out. Each night the empty house echoes his cries. The composition you had gifted him on his birthday, he plays it everyday while reminiscing the times he has got to spend with you.

His heart only beats for you.

"You are in love with your ex husband who's in love with you as well? I still don't get why you both are divorced."

You roll your eyes and walk past Jihoon who doesn't bother to follow behind because you'd be able to hear him anyways.

"Make it make sense, from what I heard...", his brows quirk up and nods at himself, "The bigshot Choi Seungcheol is being unnecessarily dramatic when you both can now live happily ever after."

You throw him a glare, "Don't you dare call him dramatic. He's in a rough spot and going through hell. But since he's stubborn and won't listen to anyone, we'll both keep wallowing in pity."

Jihoon gives you a look, "At least you're sensible. Anyways, you'd always see a DND board on my cabin's door. So please don't hesitate to get lost and not show your face to me."

You're neither surprised nor disappointed.

Lee Jihoon is a prodigal producer who's renowned around the world for his compositions. He can play every instrument in and out (claimed by people) specialising in Violin. You and Seungkwan had been eyeing him since long for managing your academy and it took you a lot of effort and determination to be able to rope him in. The man is always snappy and unfiltered. He knows he ain't people pleaser thus, he likes his space and doesn't allow interference. You just have to trust and leave the rest up to him and it'll be all taken care of.

Surprisingly, he knew you as well and though he would never admit, you're guessing the only reason he agreed to manage the new branch because as an artist he felt violated with your supposed plagiarism case. That he empathizes with you.

You don't usually go around sharing your personal life with everyone but with Jihoon it came in candid. Gradually, he came to know about you and you about him. The man is a feline who can differentiate good from bad. So after pulling many late nights and over many drinks, you both have become comfortable with each other. So comfortable that he treats you as his errand woman and every time you dare to protest he threatens to breach the contract because as he brags he has money. That annoying mf--

Jihoon knows he shouldn't be nosy but also he couldn't turn a blind eye to how you cry every time you get wasted. How whenever you bring up your husband there's an abyss of longing in your eyes. Though you're diligent and pushing yourself hard, your mind always reels back to him.

"It's your birthday next week, what do you want?", Jihoon asks and tuts instantly, "Except for Seungcheol, I can't give you him."

"Nothing.", you state blatantly, "Just stay with the academy."

"Nevermind, trying to give you Seungcheol sounds easier.", Jihoon jokes and the cushion he receives on his face isn't uncalled for.

Nobody is as distressed as Mingyu. He hasn't seen you in months, you don't talk to him like before. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have involved himself in your matters when he knew why you tried so hard to cover the truth. He regrets urging Eunsoo to confess to Wonwoo because even though she presses that she's fine and masters at hiding her feelings whenever in the same room as Wonwoo, he knows she isn't exactly doing well. It's been quite a time and neither you nor Eunsoo are doing well. Not like Wonwoo or Seungcheol are doing any better.

So he thinks it's only the doable, he needs to take the matters into his hands, if not alone atleast with Chan and Seungkwan. It might try to fix things one last time, with no expectations, no agendas of his own.

When Chan asked Mingyu to accompany him somewhere, he found it odd but agreed nonetheless.

His face changes when he finds himself infront of Seungcheol's house.

"If you see any tendencies of violence in my speech or body language just hold me back. I don't wanna beat Seungcheol but actually I do wanna beat him.", Chan says as they enter the house.

Mingyu is already breaking in cold sweat and the only accountable relief is Wonwoo's presence. When they see Seungcheol, both Chan and Mingyu are shocked at his state. He looks sick and tired.

"Are you okay?", Mingyu asks and Seungcheol nods. That's when his eyes falls behind and he sees the large wedding picture frame hung on the wall. His eyes linger further and he sees how on every wall there are pictures of you, or you and him.

Chan witnesses that Seungcheol's doing as bad as you, maybe worse. Seungcheol has not been able to meet his eyes since he knew about the past like now, his eyes are down in shame.

"Look at me", Chan says calmly, "You don't have to be ashamed of something you have never taken part in."

"But my father did.", Seungcheol whispers, "I can't forgive myself about how I treated you all and her when all you did was protect me."

"You are not doing fine neither she is.", Mingyu adds, "What's the point of seperation when you both love each other?"

"She cries everyday because of you. Regrets wanting to be selfish and marry you because you're suffering. She blames herself for everything to the point that she isolated herself from her family, friends and her academy. She's alone off to a faraway place where if an emergency occurs the fastest we can get to her would be after a 10 hour journey.", Chan doesn't usually breaks but his voice cracks, "It's so hard to see her being hard on herself. The breakup in the past must have been hard on you, but for her it was worst. I shouldn't be disclosing this but it took her a lot of therapy sessions to get out of depression. It was arduous for all of us because as you know she's the life of our family, the academy and her friends circle."

Seungcheol listens to your brother wide, teary eyed. He feels as if he's in a whirlwind.

"When I don't have any grudge against you, Y/N wants to be with you the why are you making all of our lives miserable?", Chan speaks with frustration, "You still have chamce to make things right. Don't choose to be a victim to the circumstances once again and let the love of your life go. You both have defied the odds and been together so why complicate things when there could be happily ever after waiting for you both."

"Do I deserve--"

Seungcheol haults in track, scared when he sees Mingyu seething and fisting his hands.

"Stop being a crybaby and own up. You caused a lot of damage to Y/N and you should make it up to her.", Mingyu says through his gritted teeth, "Stop trying to run away. That woman has been suffering for years just because of your family and you. She's a saint for being so understanding and patient, always putting everyone above herself. Though she'd never admit, we all know that she went away just not to be a bother for anyone, specially you. I'll beat you to a pulp if you suck up one more time. Fucking coward!"

Tables turned, now it's Chan and Wonwoo who are holding Mingyu back because Mingyu himself has the patience of Saint so when he gets worked up, things get out of control.

In the midst of all this, Mingyu throws a glare at Wonwoo as well and that's when the later unhands him and steps back.

"Do you lack common sense? What's the point of hanging her pictures and playing her compositions when after all this, she's waiting with her hands open but you won't go.", Mingyu keeps on scolding, "Why do we have to come and speak sense into your mind when you're an adult with much developed brain, developed enough to plot things to ruin someone's career?"

Six pairs of wide eyes falls on Mingyu. Seungcheol thinks hell has come in form of the buff guy infront of him. Chan thinks it's so cool of the same buff guy. Wonwoo thinks in near future he'll be facing the same fate as Seungcheol's facing today.

When Chan and Mingyu leave, Wonwoo stays behind. He quietly places a box on the table.

Before Seungcheol could enquire, he answers, "Y/N had requested me to give you this box on her birthday. Though I don't know what it contains but I do have a feeling that there won't be any more appropriate time to hand this over. I should have given it to you earlier."

After Wonwoo leaves, Seungcheol exhales sharply as his hands gently caress the box and carefully opens it.

There's a letter that sits atop. He opens the thread tied around it and starts reading.

Hey Cherry,

I couldn't help but call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. If you're reading this, then it's probably my birthday today. I'll make my birthday wishes later but here's a return gift for you. This box is an ode to you, to commemorate your love because enough we didn't get our happy ending, I could live the rest of my life reminiscing the moments we spent, the love we shared together.

Now let me show you what our love meant through my eyes. There should be a sweater inside the box, take that out.

Seungcheol immediately takes out the red crochet sweater and traces over the garment and the wordings on it. He then goes back reading the letter.

Remember when we were dating, I had grown an interest on crocheting and took classes. I had woven this sweater for you. It says "Mon Amour", which means my love in French another outcome of the music lessons I was taking from the French teacher. Never got a chance to give you this and now that you've grown big muscles, it won't fit you. You can give it or throw it.

Now you'd see a pile of vinyls. Since you've always encouraged me to pursue my passion, you became the source of my inspiration. There are 26 vinyls and each of those compositions were inspired by you. Some were composed when we were dating, some after our breakup, throughout the span of seven years and some while we were still married. I thought of returning these to their owner in true sense. These came straight out of my vault. You can keep them or burn all of them.

Seungcheol takes out the vinyls and rearranges all of them in the order of the dates written on them. He notices each Vinyl cover had a colour of it's own and each one was addressed to his name in your handwriting.

You've always loved Tulips. Remember each time I bought you those, how you'd end up getting sad because they'd wilt? So I gathered every colour I could and preserved it for you. There's a flap in which I've kept the Tulips. Don't get sad anymore, they'll stay with you now.

The rest are random things I had brought on whim either because I thought you'd like them or it reminded me of you and they may not make any sense to you.

Seungcheol notices the spilled ink in many places, blurring the words, as the letter reaches it's end because of the tears those fell down while you wrote the letter.

Nostalgic isn't it? So now that we're closing in, I'd like to say a few things to you. I don't blame you for happened in the past, nor does my family. As things turned out, we didn't end up together. But I don't want you to become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Let's not be that (only if you're comfortable enough to acknowledge me if we ever cross paths again).

As I said, even though it's my birthday I'll make a wish for you, make sure to fulfil it. Not request but it's a demand from your ex-wife. I wish you would move on from all the sufferings and pain. You should move on from me, from us. I wish for you to fall in love again with someone who'd keep you happy and bring back the liveliness in you. I admit it would hurt me, a lot but it'd mean nothing if you'd be well.

Never hesitate to come and find me, even if it's just for a brief moment. I'm always available for you. Also, just to remind you, don't you feel lonely, remember my friends are yours as well. Do disturb them at your will, most they'll do is throw tantrums but they're nice I promise. I love you, will always do. But you, move on okay? So that's all I guess. Sorry took too much of your time. Take care of yourself.

From,

Your Cherry (for one last time, promise)

Seungcheol is bawling his eyes out, screaming in pain as he reads your letter again and again, occasionally holding it close to his chest.

There's only one question that reels in his mind. How could you love him so selflessly?

You didn't expect much on your birthday but with all your friends and family travelling hours long, jamming up your place just to celebrate your day, it feels nice.

"Jihoon arranged the cake, but since Y/N wanted the party to be held in here he cancelled the venue.", Seungkwan states as a matter of fact, "Thank God, he's here otherwise my lifeline would have receded to half worrying about her."

All of your friends look at you happily chatting with your parents.

"Thanks Jihoon.", Eunsoo expresses her sincere gratitude, "I'm so relieved that she has you. She still hasn't forgiven us and knowing how private she tends to be, it's nice that she at least has you."

"We all feel the same.", Wonwoo assures and Eunsoo side eyes him as she shifts further away from him, changing seats.

Jihoon smiles genuinely, "Y/N is a great person to have around you so gradually you'd be willing to reciprocate the efforts."

"Good things, happen to good people but why is she suffering?", Mingyu sighs, chugging the can of bear, "She says she's mad at me, but she bought me my favourite limited edition watch when I was still recovering from the ligament injury."

"Yeah same, she checks on me throughout the day and night whenever I am going through a rough patch.", Eunsoo adds, "Even asked me to come and stay with her to take my mind off", she looks at Wonwoo, "things."

"Yeah, we may not always talk like we did before but she still cares the same.", Seungkwan says, "It's her nature, she can't do anything about it."

"Something good should happen to her soon.", Jihoon implies as he twirls the can in his hands.

The night goes on with you spending time with your dearest ones and catching up with everyone.

"Thanks for coming everyone.", you say making a toast, "I haven't felt this good lately. Y'all made my day really special."

At some point it's a mess, you're chasing Mingyu, who's screaming for his life because he smashed a big chunk of cake on your face. Eunsoo is eating off Jihoon's ears because she wants to hear him play Violin. Wonwoo doesn't like it a bit but there's nothing he can do apart from glaring at Jihoon. Seungkwan and Chan are debating over something useless, everyone is sure that next they're gonna fight each other to impose their point. Your parents look at all of you with a fond smile on their faces.

It's an hour till midnight when everyone decides to leave for the hotel they've been staying in. Though your friends and brother offer you help but you send them all away knowing they're still tired from such long journey.

You clean up the place and check the time before jogging down to throw the Dustin bags. All you could think of was if Seungcheol had read your letter. Doesn't matter if not today, as long as he reads it, any day is fine.

It's chilly outside as the full moon shines brightly. You stand outside not entering the gate and close your eyes to feel the breeze. It's calming, you think.

When you open your eyes after staying out for good amount of time, you think you had drunk a little too much.

"I shouldn't have drunk so much, now I'm seeing you.", you shake your head, slap your cheeks and look ahead again, "Why are you still here? Just vanish.', then you turn back to go inside the house.

"Y/N..."

You halt and say, "Now I'm hearing things also, great."

Suddenly you're being back hugged, "You're not hallucinating.", that's when you freeze, realisation gnawing on you.

Seungcheol has really come, he's physically present.

"W-What are you doing here?", you asked in your choked voice.

"I think we should have this conversation inside, only if you'll allow me to.", Seungcheol says and loosens his grip.

"Y-Yeah sure.", you don't look back, at him and walk straight into the house with him following you.

As Seungcheol takes a seat, you kick away the balloons, "Sorry, it's a mess right now.", and you flee to the kitchen to bring some slices of cake, "Have them, it's your favourite flavour."

"Happy Birthday, Y/N", he wishes you, taking the plate and you smile at him fondly.

"Have you eaten dinner?", you ask him and he shakes his head, "Came here straight from the airport."

While he eats the cake, you serve him all the dishes saying, "You should have told me that you'd come. I would have waited and we could have had the dinner together."

Seungcheol looks at you, wordless. So do you, observe him, the black hair that falls on his forehead, thick eyebrows, his brown orbs, dimpled cheeks, the small nose and stubbled chin, all of it. There's a soothing silence and you don't wanna break it.

"Y/N, there's a reason to why I came today."

You are calm, willing to listen to anything he has to offer because nothing worse can happen than what has already happened.

"I am not well without you.", he gives a small smile not meeting your gaze, "People are saying I look like a ghost nowadays, you can see it as well.", there's a pause before he looks at you and continues, "Your friends and brother have been trying hard to speak some senses into my mind. And I received the box you left for me, last week."

"But you were supposed to receive it today", you say calmly, "If my friends and family are pestering you, I'm sorry. I'd tell them to stop."

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He grabs both of your hands, "The problem isn't about me being unwell without you. The problem lies with you being more heartbroken and pained without me. You have suffered enough, you shouldn't be suffering anymore."

His hands trail gently upto your face, "And I'm here today to solve that."

You habitually lean into his touch, "Don't say something that would break my heart again, on my birthday."

"I know even without trying or repenting if I ask you to take me back, you'd do it in a heartbeat.", tears prick at his eyes as he speaks, "And now that there're no more secrets, though it's selfish of me but I want us to be together again, to live and to love forever. I want to love you right, treat you like you deserve to be treated."

You break down in tears, hiding your face in your palms, sobbing as you say, "This feels unreal. What if I'm dreaming and you'd be gone when I wake up?"

Seungcheol sniffles as he hugs you tightly, "I'm here, love. I won't go anywhere, I promise."

You snuggle closer to him, he embraces you tighter.

There are few taps on your back and you pull back only to Seungcheol making you stand up. You eyes questions him as he pecks your forehead quickly and kneels on his left knee.

Your eyes go wide as saucers as you watch him unfasten his chain and take out the ring, which you recognise is yours. He holds the ring saying, "I want to spend all of my tomorrows with you because you taught me the real meaning of love. Would you please with cherries on top, marry me?"

Not trusting your voice and with a frantic nod of head, you extend your hand towards him, onto which Seungcheol slides in the ring. You put the other ring on his finger and pull him into a fervent kiss.

Before he could take you to the bed and have you, you're pushing him away, "You haven't eaten, dinner first."

Seungcheol groans, his lips finding it's way back on your neck as he whispers, "I wanna eat you out. You're my meal, you're my dessert to devour."

You give up knowing, he's not going to listen because he's stripping you down to nothing, kissing and sucking everywhere.

"I love you, love you so much.", he keeps on murmuring, "You're mine, only mine."

Carrying you inside, he slams the bedroom door shut. All you could remember is his name and the way he worked on your whole body diligently through the night, till the morning.

"I wanna meet Lee Jihoon.", Seungcheol says during lunch, because that's when you both finally left the bed after long long sessions of love making.

But he makes you sit on his lap, "Because along with the plane ticket that I found on my office table, he had sent a card with the instructions to give it to you."

He takes out the card from his coat which was hung on the chair and gives it to you.

'Here's your birthday gift, Y/N. Told ya, giving you Seungcheol would be much easier.'

You are grinning ear to ear, "Definitely, he seems snappy but is actually quite a nice guy."

Seungcheol gulps when he remembers the other note which contained nothing but the pure threat of kidnapping, smuggling and dumping him to your house if he doesn't come here voluntarily, "Y-Yeah sure, he must be a nice guy..."

The nation is in uproar because it was such a sight to see Choi Seungcheol carrying his ex-wife in bridal style, smooching her throughout, in front of the media, till they're seen out of the airport.

Another shock comes from the musical prodigy, Lee Jihoon who returns to his roots posing as a bodyguard to the couple.

The media doesn't get to rest when a month later, both the Choi's and Lee's publish articles about your wedding to Seungcheol along with some glamourous shots from the private wedding that took place with limited guests consisting mostly closed friends and family.

Some are confused, some are shocked but more or less everyone is curious. No matter how hard the paparazzi are trying they're unable to pull tabs on what actually happened. You both are the trending topic and though all tabloids are based on pure speculations, it also shows the upper hand The Choi's have on protecting their matters.

"I have the sent the data as an anonymous to the police.", Wonwoo informs, "I'm sure it'll be concrete enough to put Jiah behind the bars."

"Great.", Seungcheol smiles, "Keep on digging, make sure once she's in, she never gets out of the prison."

Wonwoo gives a nod and leaves.

"Are you sure he like Eunsoo back?", Seungcheol turns to ask you.

"You should notice how stone cold poker faced Wonwoo starts to show emotions whenever he sees Eunsoo with Jihoon. I have caught him stealing glances at our Soo as well.", you sigh, "I know it must be hard for him, but I wish he could just be honest with his feelings."

"I'll talk to him", Seungcheol assures and as if a switch flips he pouts saying, "Why'd you have to go? We just got married."

"I'll have to look over the academy until it's fully functional.", you tell him, "Jihoon can take over after that but till then I'll have keep going back and forth. But hey, I'll be here for a month before I go, let's utilize it to the fullest."

"Of course, baby. Don't worry I'll manage my schedule so that I can be there with you for most of the time.", he pecks your lips, "I'm so proud of you. I love you."

"Love you too, Cherry.", you smile looking at him.

"Let's plan for our honeymoon--"

"Cheol, I was thinking that...", your lips purse into a line, "instead of touring, can we spend some time alone without work, just the two of us, somewhere cozy. Only if you're okay with it, I know you're busy and to take time completely off--"

You're cut off by his lips on yours. He kisses you for a good amount of time and says, "If you want it then I'll manage. Anything for you baby."

You smile pushing him away, "You're down bad.", ypj tease, "I'll have to drop by the academy, Seungkwan is waiting."

"I'll take you.", Seungcheol gets up grabbing the car keys, "I'm sure everyone is there specially Jihoon, I'm a fan."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah everyone is saying so but he's a plain pain in ass to me. Let's take Wonwoo with us.", grabbing your clutch, "I'm planning to visit Wonseok, let's go together this weekend. Also, I've informed Ms. Oh that we'd be eating out tonight."

As Seungcheol drives, your mind reels back to everything that happened over the month. Your husband proposing to you, you coming back and accepting things with his parents as they offer their earnest apologies. Though Seungcheol is still not on talking terms with them and you're yet to entirely let go of what they've done, you think time will mend the relationships.

Getting married again but this time just out of pure love. Discussions about having family, bearing his children in future comes often and you don't miss the gleam in your husband's eyes when you both talk over it casually nowadays, him always assuring that he's ready whenever you're ready. Your friends now becoming more of Seungcheol's group as they pick each other's habit and throw unfiltered banter, Jihoon included.

If years of suffering have led you to witness these days then you're content because it's all worth it.

Even though Seungcheol is engaged in a conversation with the group, he sweeps a quick glance at you, smiling fondly and mouthing a 'I Love you' before diving back just to sulk at something Mingyu claimed.

You say those words right back to him in your heart, a thousand times more as you make a wish you have him as yours in all lifetimes.

To be fully seen by somebody and be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous. Having withered for each other and falling back in love, lucky you both to be spending the rest of your lives together.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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afterglowsainz · 1 month ago

Text

we used to have more pt. 4 | oscar piastri, pato o’ward

part 1 part 2 part 3

pairing: oscar piastri x reader, pato o’ward x reader

summary: where a talk in a hotel room and a work trip to mexico make things clear for you

fc: different girls from pinterest

warnings: mentions of toxic relationships

a/n: ahhh sorry it took me a while to post this! but finally here it is the last part of this mini series that i loved creating <3 thank you so so much for supporting it the way you did, all the comments, reblogs and likes meant the world to me while writing it💗

—

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and others

yourusername home sweet home

tagged lissiemackintosh

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username dry ass caption

username girlie is NOT happy to be back

username y/n i know you wanted to stay in america but you can at least act a little bit more excited to be back 😭

username the fact it was sunny all weekend and she posted a pic of the only HOUR of rain is diabolical

declanmurray you can at least pretend

yourusername i’m not contractually obligated to

username pls 😭

username idc she’s down MOTHER IS BACK

oscarpiastri happy you’re back! ❤️

username chat when the guy you’re off and on for years says he’s happy you’re back how to do you react?

username ohhh but we’re having THE fashion icon that is y/n again at the paddock i cannot complain

patriciooward have fun!

yourusername <3333

username pls the way she ignored oscar so severely 😭

liked by yourusername, milesbaldwin and others

patriciooward can never say no to a side quest

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username NORBIIII 🥰

username every photo was whiplash after whiplash

username incredibly cute and incredibly hot

username don’t push girls

username i am that cookie actually

username i need him in a way that’s concerning for feminism

yourusername boys 🥹

patriciooward miss you!

username no they are my parents

username oscar i was rooting for you but now … i’m not so sure

liked by patriciooward, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername the prodigal son returns home 🇲🇽

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username omg is this a hard launch??? what is this !!!

username patoooo 💖

username the way you can see everything about her posting changed since she arrived in mexico

username is it wrong to assume it’s because she’s with pato again? 😩

username pato and y/n in mexico is everything

username ohhhh oscar reaaaally fumbled this time

username nahhh im being delusional thinking oscar still has an opportunity (pls y/n give him a chance 😩)

username well, at least she’s posting again 🥳

patriciooward ☀️

yourusername ☀️✨✨💫

liked by indygossip, f1wags and others

f1gossip indycar and mclaren’s reserve driver patricio o’ward was seen last night having dinner and sharing a kiss with f1 community manager y/n y/l/n

it has been rumored for a few years that she was on a relationship on and off with mclaren’s oscar piastri, but it was never confirmed as the driver kept going back to his exgirlfriend

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username not oscar catching strays 😭😭

f1gossip 🤷🏽‍♀️

username honestly i can’t be mad about this. she deserves someone who makes her happy and pato obviously likes her. they look good together 💗

username THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

username someone check on oscar 😩

username watch him go back to his exgirlfriend after hearing the news 🙄

username genuinely hoping he doesn’t do that otherwise he’s just reinforcing y/n’s decision of moving on

username anddd that relationship CANNOT be healthy, for either of them

username i knew they were together from day one, y’all were just blinded by oscar

username because they’re meant to be 😭😭

username in another life perhaps!

liked by yourusername, lissiemackintosh and others

patriciooward favorite place with the greatest company ❤️

view all comments

username ahhh the masters of hard launching i’m so here for this

username THE DRESS

username i don’t know if i wanna be pato or y/n in this situation

username okay don’t rub it in 😭

miguelsossa where’s my photo creds for the second one? 🤨

patriciooward 📷: miguelsossa

miguelsossa thanks it means a lot make sure to pin that comment so everyone can see

username pls why did i thought y/n and pato went out without the whole gang 😭

declanmurray HAH don’t make me laugh

milesbaldwin we do leave them alone sometimes

patriciooward …

lissiemackintosh 😮

username speechless at this

username i’m sure pato is a saint because dealing with y/n’s friends must be a handful 🙏🏽

yourusername beautiful 🤍

patriciooward how’s the weather now? :)

yourusername warm enough, you?

patriciooward clear skies

username STOP THEYRE SO CUTE 🥰

liked by georgerussel63, exgirlfriend and others

oscarpiastri happy place ❤️

tagged exgirlfriend

comments for this post have been disabled

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taglist; @heavy-vettel @a-beaverhausen @astroniii @chunkpiboli @theonottsbxtch @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @charli123456789 @stopeatread @coriyaps @nina-or-anna-or-nora @ninasw0rld @loveelylani @marauders-wife @dramallama9 @mxdi0 @piastrigate @ladyoflynx @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @southernbaguette @ellelabelle @emryb @fastfactory @comicalivy @seasonswinter @no-144444 @lunamelona @saachiep81 @nataliambc @patis643 @softtina @chemiru @obxstiles @eiaaasamantha @youre-on-your-ownkid @wcnorris @hwalllllllelujah @soleilgrec

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freaksun · 4 months ago

Text

eddie doesnt let anyone touch his hair. ever.

it reminds him of his late mother, who had the same gorgeous untamed curls. She used to comb his hair when he was little, being ever so gentle and taking her time brushing out the knots.

his father made him feel less-than for just about everything about him, including his gorgeous mane. Called him awful names and always told him to ‘cut that fairy shit’ when it grew too long.

so, ever since she passed, and his father went to jail, hes been growing it.

unfortunately, she never taught him how to take care of it, she’d always just do it herself. So, he doesnt put product in it, he doesnt cut it, he doesnt even brush it. And, stubborn as his mama, he doesnt let anyone else touch it either.

then you come along, happy and sweet, always loving to everyone. he falls in love with you so fast he hardly even notices. you certainly dont either.

one hot summer day you’re both in his room, you on his bed, him pacing, frantically explaining some sort of nerdy campaign idea. you dont know, you havent been listening for a while, too distracted by the way he keeps wiping sweat from the back of his neck. you cut him off rudely, he doesnt mind

“hey eddie?”

“sweetheart?”

“whens the last time you got a haircut?”

he freezes, silent, which is very out of character, dude never shuts up.

“uhh. like a few years ago. why?”

its your turn to be quiet, suddenly all coy. he finds you absolutely adorable as you stare at his floor, trying to find a way to ask him without startling him. as if he were some wild animal, which, he basically is.

“just.. immm noticinggg its kinda matted in the back…”

you try to sound the least accusing as you can. he doesnt seem offended but you can tell hes thinking.

“well, yeah, i. i guess i just havent touched it since. well my mom used to do it for me”

you feel like an ass, touching on something you shouldnt have, making him all quiet and sad. you backtrack.

“jesus, eddie, im sorry i didnt mean to-“

“its okay angel, i know”

he sits next to you. you give him a nervous smile, still sweet, hesitantly reaching for his curls. you can tell he’s hesitant too, but he nods, granting you permission. you take a single strand between your fingers, twirling it.

“Its so pretty, eds. ..would you let me? take care of it, i mean?”

hes scared. but youre so sweet and youre asking so nicely. a part of him is scared if he lets you, he loses another part of his mom. but the other part is staring into your eyes and seeing nothing but genuine affection.

“i.. i guess you could.. try.”

his heart pounds in his chest. You absolutely beam, thanking him immediately and bouncing around the room, looking for a brush. he laughs, shaking his head. you watch as he rummages through his closet, before handing you a light pink brush. you think about teasing him for it but he already looks vulnerable. you smile sweetly instead, taking it from him.

“sit” you point with the brush. he does as you say, running his hands up and down his thighs in a self soothing motion.

“its okay eds, you dont have to be nervous.. ill be gentle i promise” he gives you an unconvincing smile. you return with a guilty one, downturned. you kneel in front of him, in between his knees, brushing his bangs with your fingers.

“we can stop whenever you want, okay?” his cheeks are bright red as he nods timidly

you move to sit behind him, and run your hands through his curls gently, admiring it. you take a part, hold it at the root, and brush gently.

“that feel okay? tell me if it hurts” ever so sweet.

“mm-hm” you can feel his nervousness. “you- you remind me of her, y’know”

youre pretty taken aback, but honoured nonetheless. you keep brushing through the mattes in his hair as you talk.

“Yeah? Wanna tell be about her?” youre not sure if its the right thing to say, but you figure he probably hasnt talked about her in a long time. you can practically feel his energy shift.

“she was sweet. loving and kind to everyone, like you.” you both smile. “and she was pretty. beautiful. i really miss her.” you stop, rub his back a little.

“i can only imagine.. im sorry eddie.” he turns to face you, smiling.

“s’alright sweetheart. thanks for letting me talk about her” he hugs you. you hug him back, tight.

“hows the ole hair going?” He asks when he pulls back, a joking tone to lighten the mood.

“good!!! ive gotten the mattes outta this chunk here, it looks good. your hair is really beautiful, eds” youre ecstatic and it travels to him.

“thank you. my mom had the same hair.” he smiles, turning back around to let you continue.

“i bet she was really gorgeous.” youre extra-extra gentle. He keeps talking and you keep working. He tells you about how she smelled, the softness of her voice, his favourite memories with her. he tells you about the last time he saw her. he tells you all the things hes been holding inside, everything he never got to tell anyone, never trusted anyone enough. and when hes done, his hair is untangled and soft.

you smile proudly, running your hands through his hair, marveling at your work.

“its done” he whips around, looking at you with wide excited eyes

“really??” you nod, smiling wide. he runs over to the bathroom to see for himself. You stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder in the mirror. Hes surprised, looks like he might even cry. you wrap your arms around him, leaning your head against his arm.

“do you like it? Its a little poofy, but you can wash it out and it’ll look be-“ he cuts you off by turning around and hugging you. he hugs you tight, lifting you up.

“thank you.” you can tell he really means it.

#my fics #eddie munson x female reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #my fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie my love <3 #my writing

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aperrywilliams · 1 year ago

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Little Big Secret (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: You’re 36 weeks pregnant with Spencer’s baby. What happens when you are about to give birth and need to contact Spencer while he is in a case out of town?

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy and labor symptoms are described. Some strong words. If I missed something, let me know. It's a fluffy one. Dad!Spencer coming to light. The chaotic trio I love having their moment (Reid-Morgan-Prentiss).

A/N: I wrote this fic based on this request. I loved doing it! Let me know what you think.

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Being 36 weeks pregnant and stuck in your apartment trying to convince your non-born baby girl to stop kicking your guts is not funny. It's worse when the same scenario occurs at 3 am, and you are alone, unable to sleep in the last 24 hours, exhausted and sentimental because your boyfriend Spencer isn't home.

You won't tell him that, though. You convinced him to go with the team to Trenton for a case, telling him you would be okay and that baby girl Reid won't be here for at least two weeks. That's what your doctor said to you in the last appointment.

Reluctantly Spencer agreed, making you swear you would call him or your sister if anything happened.

"Relax, baby. Everything will be okay. We'll be here when you return from your case," you assured him. "You have to go while you can. Once this girl is born, you'll be stuck here and will get tired of us," you giggled. Spencer's eyes widened.

"What? No! Get tired of you? Never!"

"About that. Do they know why you are taking leave in the next weeks?"

"Not really. Hotch knows, but the rest assume I'll go to see my mom," your boyfriend shrugged.

You still find it unbelievable that the best-known profilers in the country haven't noticed one of their own has a girlfriend for three years and a baby on the way.

At first, you had your apprehensions about why Spencer didn't want his team to know your existence. You thought maybe Spencer felt embarrassed because of you or didn't consider your relationship worth enough for them to know. But your boyfriend assured you it was anything but that. He told you what happened to Haley, Hotch's wife, and the multiple times a team's family member has been exposed to danger because of their job. He wanted you safe. He wanted to protect you.

The only one who knew about you was Hotch, Spencer's boss. But he, better than anyone, could understand Spencer's reasons, so he hadn't said anything.

You understood it and accepted it, even if you both knew that at some point, your secret would not be a secret anymore. For now, it was safer like this.

Exhaustion was all you got now, and even you have been trying to bribe your unborn daughter with chocolates if she behaved and let you sleep. It seemed you succeeded as she stopped making a party in your womb.

You fall asleep thinking about how your life has changed in the past years and how happy you were despite how uncomfortable pregnancy was at this point.

The next morning you woke up feeling a little better. Sleep helped, but your body was still tense, so you thought a warm bath after breakfast was a good idea to relax your sore muscles.

You were finishing your pancakes when Spencer called you.

"Hey, baby!" You greeted.

"Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?"

You didn't have the heart to tell him how uncomfortable you were last night.

"Good. Everything is good here. How is the case?" You tried to direct the topic to him. Spencer sighed.

"I think we are close to catching the unsub, but it had been hard," he confessed.

"I know you'll get him soon," you assured him. Spencer chuckled. He loved how you were always rooting for him. You were his biggest fan.

"I hope so. And you? Our baby girl has been good? When I come back-" he didn't even finish the sentence when someone called his name in the distance. 'Reid! We need you now!'

A heavy sigh left Spencer's lips.

"I'm sorry, love. I got to go," he mumbled into the receiver, guilt dripping from his voice.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't apologize and go to catch the bad guy," you encouraged him.

"I will. I love you so so much. And I love our little one. I promise to make it up to you both, okay?"

"I love you more. We'll be waiting for you."

Despite your efforts to relax during your bath, it seemed baby Reid had other plans, like moving and squeezing your insides. You tried singing to her, telling stories, and everything that came to mind.

You gave up and hopped off the tub. You dried your body and decided to watch some TV. After a while, stuck in a random show, the noise lulled you to sleep without noticing.

Everything would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact that an intense pain woke you up suddenly. You didn't know the time, but the TV was still on. You tried to sit on the sofa, but the pain wouldn't leave you, so much so that it was hard for you to breathe. The twisting in your belly was stronger than you'd ever felt and scaring you.

"My sweet girl, I know you're eager to see us, but you have some days left in Mommy's womb, so try to be nice, okay?" You panted, trying to reason with your baby.

You weren't ready to give birth, let alone without Spencer.

But, again, baby Reid had her own plans.

Another sharp pang made you slouch on the sofa; this time, you felt something warm running down your legs. You looked down and saw the liquid drip onto the couch and slide to the floor.

Fuck. Your water just broke.

The morning was a rush for the whole team and the Tremont police. After an anonymous tip, they located the guy who fitted the profile and ended up being the unsub they were looking for. As he had a hostage, the team moved quickly to the warehouse where he kept captive his ex-girlfriend, the source of his rage. Before things went further, Rossi's shot ended with the unsub screaming in pain and the hostage a nervous wreck but unharmed.

Spencer couldn't believe it took them a whole week to locate the bastard, but it was finally done. So they returned to the precinct to wrap the last details and go home.

Spencer was pulling the case photos off the board when his phone started ringing. He saw it was you and hastened to answer. Usually, you didn't call him while he was working.

"Hello?"

But a loud grunt came to his ear instead of your sweet voice. Spencer's eyes widened.

“(Y/N)? Is that you?"

You barely could say a word, the intense pain reducing you to heavy breathing and whimpers.

"Spence-" you managed to say. "The baby. It hurts."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening."Where are you? What's wrong? Where is Tania?"

Too many questions, and you had answers for all of them. But it was difficult to say a word with the pain cursing your body. After the contraction subsided, you could speak.

"My water broke. I'm home, and Tania doesn't answer. I don't know- ahhhh, fuck!!!"

Shit. You were in labor and alone at home. Spencer wanted to throw up.

"Baby, listen to me. I will call 911, but I need you to breathe, okay?"

"No! Spencer, don't hang up. I need you," you cried.

Spencer paced frantically in the room as Emily, Morgan, and Rossi looked at him, worried.

To call 911? Who the hell was he talking to?

"Reid? What is it?" Morgan tried to get his attention, but Spencer's brain was trying to make a plan to help you without stopping talking to you.

“(Y/N), please. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, please?"

JJ and Hotch entered the room at that moment. Both frowned when they saw Spencer pacing and the rest standing and waiting to know what was going on and what to do to help Spencer.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"

You couldn't reply to him, crying in pain instead. Spencer thought he could die of panic.

"Yes. But I can't move," you sobbed.

Hotch didn't need much to understand what was going on. Grabbing his phone, he called Penelope.

Spencer was reduced to dumb and didn't know what to do.

"Garcia, I need you to call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to..." he paused and looked at Spencer, who was talking to you. "Reid," Hotch named. When he got no response, he tried louder. "Reid! Where? Where is she?" Spencer's face found Hotch's.

"At my place," he told his boss.

"Garcia, an ambulance to Reid's address. Report a pregnant woman in labor that needs to go to the hospital. I need you to go there too. Make sure she gets to the hospital alright. I'll give you more information later."

Pregnant woman in labor at Spencer's address?

Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi shared the same confused looks.

"Baby, the help is on the way. Penelope knows and will help you to go to the hospital. She has a key, so don't worry. I'm on my way, okay? I'll call Tania too," Spencer informed you, moving to collect his things.

"Please, hurry up," you begged. As the call ended, Spencer turned to see his boss.

"Hotch. I have to-. I need to-," Spencer stuttered. Aaron nodded.

"It'll be okay; we are leaving now," he assured Spencer.

Morgan was the first to bring the elephant in the room.

"Can you tell us what's going on?"

Then, Spencer noticed the team hearing the whole ordeal.

"Uh. My 36-week pregnant girlfriend is giving birth to my daughter right now, and she's alone. I need to be there," Spencer succinctly explained as he dialed (Y/N)'s sister's number again without luck.

To say the team was shocked was an understatement. But there wasn't time to ask questions. They needed to move quickly.

Hotch was who took the lead.

"Morgan, you'll drive to the hospital with Reid and Prentiss now. I'll stay with JJ and Rossi to pack everything and follow you. The drive to DC is about three hours; make it two. I'll take care of the traffic police," he said to Morgan, who nodded, grabbing the car keys. "Prentiss, you'll get an open line with Garcia while she joins (Y/N) and takes her to the hospital. Now go!" Hotch instructed, now patting Spencer's back. "You'll get on time. Go," he told Spencer, who nodded and stomped from the room, followed by Morgan and Prentiss.

"Hey, Reid. We'll make it, kid," Morgan assured while driving on the highway, Emily as the copilot. In the back seat, Spencer couldn't stop bouncing his leg, worried about if the ambulance had already taken you to the hospital. On cue, Emily's phone went off.

"Garcia, you're on speaker," Emily announced.

"My lovelies, good news. I got your girl, boy Wonder, and we're heading to the hospital. Besides the pain, she's fine," Garcia recounted, and Spencer could breathe again.

"Can I talk to her?" Spencer asked.

"No, yet; they have her in the stretcher and with oxygen while monitoring her, but as we reach the hospital and will get her admitted, we can call you again. Nonetheless, she asked me to tell you she hated you for putting a baby in her. I really like this girl already," Garcia quipped, making laugh Emily and Morgan. Spencer's cheeks flushed.

"Garcia?" He sheepishly asked. "Can you tell her I love her and am on my way?"

Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other briefly. They still couldn't believe what was happening, but either way, they had a mission to accomplish: get to the hospital before you gave birth, so the resident genius could see his baby born.

"Sure thing. I will. I'll keep you posted," Garcia assured before hanging up.

Spencer could sense that Emily and Morgan were itching to cover him with questions, but knowing his nervous state, they were respectful enough not to say anything.

"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't tell you anything about (Y/N) before," he mumbled.

"And the baby," Emily added with a non-malice tone.

Spencer's face fell with embarrassment. They were his family, after all. And he kept this little big secret from them.

"But we get it, Reid. We do," Morgan ensured.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. We all know this job, and we want the best for our loved ones, keeping them safe," Prentiss said, turning to see Spencer, who nodded. "What I still can't believe is that you kept us in the dark for three years, and none of us ever suspected a thing. They should fire us," Emily added, making Spencer chuckle.

"What I can't believe is you were able to make someone fall in love with you," Morgan quipped, smirking and gaining a slap on the arm from Prentiss. "And get her pregnant! You have been having a game all this time, and I still thought I needed to be your wingman," Morgan scoffed.

"Worst wingman on earth. He had had to do all the work for himself," Emily added. The three laughed.

They were still with an ETA of one hour when Penelope Facetimed.

"Garcia! How is she?" Spencer rushed to ask.

"Hello to you, genius," Penelope greeted. "(Y/N) is already in a room. She's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so we're waiting," she informed, turning the camera to focus you on the bed, exhausted but relieved of being in the hospital already.

"Honey!" Spencer shouted as Garcia handed the phone.

"Are you coming?" you asked in a broken tone. You didn't have much energy at this point.

"Yes! On my way now. Morgan is driving us with Emily," he informed you.

"We're almost there, pretty girl!" Morgan yelled from the driver's seat.

You let a wary smile. Spencer only wanted to be there with you so he could hold you.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

"No. No. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Spencer hastened to point.

"Our little big secret is no longer a secret," you pouted, feeling guilty about the whole ordeal.

"Baby, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is you and our little girl being okay. Believe me; it's the only that matters to me. I'm sorry for leaving you," Spencer sniffled.

"I love you," you said, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"And I love you so much," Spencer declared, wiping his tears.

You both kept in Facetime for a while. Spencer tried to keep you focused on anything but the pain, though it was difficult when a deep contraction raked your body from time to time.

Spencer recited your favorite poems and stories and recounted your best memories together. As a natural thing, Emily, Morgan, or Penelope made questions and comments about the things you or Spencer said. That helped. You felt accompanied, not only by your boyfriend but also by the beautiful people who were taking care of you and him. If you ever thought Spencer's coworkers didn't care about him, now all those doubts are cleared.

"We're getting there in five!" Morgan announced.

"Garcia, please tell the staff Spencer is coming so they let him rush upstairs," Emily requested.

"On it!" Garcia chirped. “The doctor is here, so I’ll hang up. Boy Wonder, the third floor, hall to the left,” she informed before the call ended.

Pushing the brakes in front of the hospital’s entrance, Morgan turned to Spencer.

"Go, pretty boy. We'll be there waiting," the man assured.

"Go to see your girls," Emily added. Spencer’s eyes were full of tears.

"Thank you. Really, thank you so much," he voiced before climbing off the SUV and rushing inside the hospital.

The doctor announced you were almost ready to give birth now. Just another centimeter of dilation, and you’ll need to push. After he left, you squeezed Penelope’s hand hard. You weren't sure you could do this.

“It’s okay, pumpkin. You can do it. Spencer is already here,” she comforted you. Garcia had just ended her sentence when Spencer rushed inside the room, panting and looking frantically. When he spotted you, you could see the tears in his eyes.

“Spencer!” you cried. He quickly lugged to your side. Garcia sighed, relieved that he was there. Spencer held your hand now, kissing your temple.

“I’m here, my love. I’m here. I won’t leave again,” he chanted, stroking your damped hair.

It was Penelope’s cue to leave the couple alone. But before Garcia crossed the threshold, Spencer ran to her and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he ever gave her.

“Thank you, thank you. For everything,” he mumbled. Garcia could have started crying, but it would be time for that later.

“Anytime, my love. Now go back to your woman. We’ll be outside waiting.” A grateful Spencer nodded before joining you again.

You didn't reach the last centimeter until an hour later. Spencer stood by your side, chanting praises and pushing away your sweat with a cloth whenever you needed it.

When the time came, you were pushing with all the strength you left, but your little girl wasn’t doing it easy for you.

“Spencer, I can’t,” you sobbed. Spencer kissed your head and stroked your hand.

“I know you’re exhausted, my love. But you’re almost there. We’re going to meet our little girl. Want that, right, my little pumpkin?” he talked now to your belly. The waiting room is full of aunts and uncles, ready to see you. They already love you, even if they didn't know about you until three hours ago,” Spencer pointed, and you let out a little chuckle in the middle of the pain.

The feeling of being cared for and loved gave you the last ounce of energy you needed. In the next contraction, you pushed harder, ending with a loud baby cry. Your daughter was here.

When they put her in your arms, wrapped in a white blanket, you couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful baby in the world—the best combination between Spencer and you.

“You did so good, my love. She’s wonderful, and she’s here with us,” Spencer said, voice full of emotion and tears freely rolling down his cheeks.

You couldn’t stop looking at her.

“Our little big secret,” you cooed. “You’re a lucky baby already,” you whispered to her. Spencer chuckled.

“Should I go to tell them?” He asked you.

“They will kill you if you don’t,” you quipped.

When Spencer showed up in the waiting room, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were there too.

All eyes were on him.

“A 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and 19.6 inches healthy baby girl,” Spencer announced, the biggest grin plastered on his face.

The room erupted in cheers and claps, everyone taking turns to hug the new father.

Once everyone calmed down, Spencer cleared his throat.

“I want to apologize for keeping this from you. I don't want you to think I don't trust or care enough to tell you about the important things in my life. It's just- you know,” Spencer trailed off. Rossi patted his shoulder.

“We know, kid. We really do,” the older man assured him.

“Yeah, Spence. We understand. That doesn't mean it’s not a big thing, but we get it,” JJ seconded.

“We are just jealous because Hotch was the only one who knew,” Garcia scoffed.

“Boss privilege, I guess,” Hotch shrugged, making the rest laugh.

“Well, being (Y/N) and baby Reid not a little big secret anymore, we can meet them properly, right?” Morgan pointed.

“Oh, yes! Please! I want to meet my goddaughter!” Garcia chirped, and Spencer looked at her, frowning.

“Don’t look at me like that, doctor. I won the privilege when I held that poor woman in pain,” she added.

“Maybe you’ll be the godmother, but I’ll be the cool aunt,” Emily chirped.

“And I’ll be Papa Rossi,” David seconded.

Spencer shook his head, laughing as everyone on the team fought for a place in his daughter's life.

He was so happy to have you and baby Reid. But now his happiness was complete knowing he could share it, and his whole found family could be part of it.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #little big secret #aperrywilliams #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

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tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

#m!writes #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

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boolger · 3 months ago

Text

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Maybe support me on kofi?🥺👉👈

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

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The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work.

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had.

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road.

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate.

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive.

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion.

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left.

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look.

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

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It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another.

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything.

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction.

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

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The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John.

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

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They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

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yikes-aemond · 4 months ago

Text

I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part II)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: 18+, smut, canon typical violence, cursing

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood return to the woods where your story began. Things get heated.

word count: 3.6k

author note: Thanks so much to everyone for your kind words about this little story. This is my first time posting fanfiction, and I am overwhelmed by the response. And in case anyone is curious, I pretty much listened exclusively to Taylor Swift’s “Guilty as Sin?” while writing this. Love you babes. Happy reading!

part I can be found here. part III can be found here. part iv can be found here.

A madness plagued you, of that there could be no doubt.

Days had passed since the boundary stone incident. But you could barely bring yourself to leave the confines of your chambers. You did not want to see anyone. Not your father. Not your fellow ladies or maids. And certainly not Aeron.

You only wanted to see Benjicot. Lay eyes on him and hold him and confirm that you were not alone with these feelings.

In your heart, you knew that he must feel something. No Blackwood would withdraw from a challenge with a Bracken as quickly as he did after your plea without feeling anything. But your mind played tricks on you, turning over every interaction, every look, every word between the two of you.No promises had been made. No tender feelings shared.

What if you had imagined it all? That thought alone kept you awake at night, tossing and turning with no relief.

And gods, did you crave relief from this sweet torture.

You felt trapped beneath your own skin, aching and longing for something that you could not fully name. But even though you did not know the full language of lovers, did not know exactly what happened between a couple when they lied together, you knew enough. Knew that pleasure could be found between your thighs with a twirl of your fingers. Knew it was a sin, but could not bring yourself to care.

You could not get the look of Benjicot’s enraged face out of your mind. Flushed cheeks, wide eyes, snarling mouth. Even the cuts, bruises, and blood on his hands called to some primal part of you. The way he defended you, fought for you. He was a force, and the thought of having all that frenzied energy focused on you was enough to send you over the edge.

You touched yourself to images of Benjicot that flashed through your mind. His face hovering over you. His arms encircling your body. His hands touching you. Unlacing your dress and removing your small clothes. Warm, strong, calloused hands traveling across your breasts, hips, and thighs. Moving higher and higher until he reached the core of you.

And when you reached that pentacle of release, it was his name you sighed allowed.

This madness had to end.

So, in the early morning hours before Stone Hedge woke, you made your way back to the woods where it all began.

You did not know how long you walked but you suspected hours. The sun was steadily rising in the sky, warming the air and casting shadows through the trees. You only vaguely knew the right direction to Raventree Hall and prayed to both the old gods and the new that you were on the right path.

Not that you really had a plan once you reached Raventree Hall. It was not as if you could march up to the front door, knock, and demand to see the heir. The fact that you were a Bracken almost guaranteed that at best, such a request would be refused, or at worst, end with your head on a spike.

But even when your legs began to tire and sweat dripped down your brow, you pushed forward—determined that today would be the day you received answers.

That is until you tripped over a tree root, stumbling to the ground. You landed awkwardly on your front, both hands throbbing from cuts and scrapes you gained while trying to break your fall. But at least you had not rolled your ankle this time.

Just as you began to pick yourself up, you felt a presence behind you. You were not sure if your imagination was playing tricks on you, but the forest itself seemed to quiet. You could no longer hear the wind rustling the leaves, nor birds chirping or insects humming.

All your attention focused on one thing. Him. Benjicot. Every part of your being knew he was the one behind you.

You felt the ghost of his touch before he surrounded you. His front to your back, both kneeling on the ground. His hand brushed against your hip before he leaned in and whispered, “Didn’t I tell you that these lands were not for Brackens, my lady?”

You tried to turn to face him, but Benjicot stopped the motion by bringing his arm across your stomach, caging you against him. “How typical,” he scolded. “A Bracken who can’t do what they are told.”

Your senses were overloaded. You could practically hear your heart pounding against your chest. Everything about Benjicot pulled you further and further into his snare—his touch, his scent, his voice. You had never felt so helpless. And you liked it.

But as quickly as Benjicot had trapped you, he let you go. One moment, he was supporting your weight against him, and the next, you were unmoored and alone. Leaping to your feet, you turned to finally face the man who had singlehandedly ruined your sanity and good sense.

Benjicot had put distance between the two of you. At least two strides away, he was no longer within your reach. A part of you rebelled at the distance. For six years you had longed to be in his presence and have his attention focused on you. And now that you were here, in this place where your fates first intertwined, you could not bear the space.

But something held you back. The look on Benjicot’s face. He’s angry.

You had witnessed his legendary temper in action, had seen the bloody results. But Benjicot’s anger had never been directed toward you. Even when you first encountered him in these woods all those years ago, he had not been angry. Exasperated and intrigued, sure. But never angry.

Yet there was no mistaking the look on his face now. His eyes were cold and distant, his lips turned down. He looked at you as if you were a stranger. And you did not care for that at all.

Breaking the silence, Benjicot asked, “What are you doing here?”

His gruff voice sent a thrill down your spine. For a fleeting moment, you tried to keep your composure, tried to mold your face into a mask of indifference as he had done. But you had neither the patience nor skill to do so. Your emotions always stayed close to the surface, threatening to unleash and break free at any moment.

“What am I doing here?” you repeated back to him. “I’m here to see you. I thought that was rather obvious.”

Benjicot’s eyes narrowed at your tone. A break in the unfeeling facade he had erected. “I told you that these woods were not safe. I told you to not come back here. I told you—”

“I know what you told me!” Your own anger rising to meet his. “I have thought about what you said to me in these woods every godsdamn day for the last six years,” you seethed.

Benjicot rolled his eyes at your tantrum. “And yet, here you are.”

Unbelievable. You threw your hands into the air in frustration, eyes seeking the sky for patience. “Well maybe I would not have had to go traipsing through the woods if you had bothered to do something about our situation!”

A beat passed before Benjicot responded. “Our situation?” he asked, amusement echoing in this tone. “And what situation might that be, my lady?

You, once again trespassing on Blackwood land in violation of the assize? You, who apparently has no care for your own wellbeing, wandering into these woods alone and defenseless? As helpless as a newborn fawn, completely at the mercy of those who would strike first and ask questions later? That situation?”

You wanted to tear the smug look off his face. Maybe you really were a Bracken through and through. Because at the moment, you understood with perfect clarity why your ancestors had feuded since time in memoriam.

You did not know why he was acting this way. Why he was trying to push you away. Why he refused to acknowledge the meaning behind your words. Except—

What if he did not share your feelings? What if you had really imagined it all?

Your anger fled as quickly as it had appeared; replaced instead by a wave of nausea at your own foolishness. Of course, he did not feel the same way. You were a Bracken. Maybe he thought you were a pretty face to look at, maybe he would have had you warm his bed, but he could never love you.

You felt the color drain from your face. Trembling, you turned away from him. You could no longer bear to look at him. You needed to get away. Needed to leave this place while you still had the strength to stand.

You fled. Running as fast your legs could carry you, you weaved through the trees with no thought for direction or destination other than away, away, away.

The moment you turned away, Benjicot realized his mistake, letting his anger over your lack of self preservation win out over the joy he felt when he found you again in these woods.

And perhaps his anger was a result of the shame he felt. Shame for waiting so long to go to you that you had felt the need to put yourself at risk to seek him out.

Benjicot had faced countless opponents and impossible odds, and never once had he wavered. Never once had he questioned his skill or fortitude. But the thought of you being in danger, or gods, someone hurting you, was enough to send him into a panic.

He chased after you.

You might have gotten a head start, but Benjicot was faster. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, and there was no place you could go, no place you could hide, where he would not find you.

Spotting you up ahead, Benjicot surged forward, grasping your arm and pulling you into him. You collided into his chest, nearly sending you both to the forest floor. But Benjicot caught you, both of his hands now resting on your arms to steady you.

You were both breathing heavily. No space existed between you now. You did not understand him. Did not understand why he did not let you escape in peace. You were close to tears but refused to allow Benjicot Blackwood to steal anymore of your dignity.

“Let me go, Blackwood,” you demanded, trying to pull away from his grasp. But Benjicot held firm, tightening his bruising grip on you.

Shaking his head, Benjicot pulled you further into arms, until you stood chest to chest, with your arms caged in between. He was a good head taller than you, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

Your breaths mixed together as the silence dragged out between you. Only when you tried to pull away again did Benjicot finally say, “I have watched you from afar.”

You finally stilled. Eyes widening, you waited for him to continue. “And I know you have watched me, too.”

Color returned to your face, as you tore your eyes away from his searching gaze. “Do not hide from me now, Bracken.” When you failed to respond, Benjicot scoffed, “I never took you for a craven.”

You felt your blood begin to boil. How dare he call you craven. Shoving at his chest with all your strength, you shouted, “The only one craven here is you, Blackwood!”

“Oh, please enlighten me, how am I craven?”

You stopped shoving at his chest, letting all of your frustration and ire rise until all you could see was red. “You dare admit to watching me, yet you refuse to acknowledge my feelings!”

Benjicot flinched at your accusation. Now it was he who refused to look you in the eye.

But you pressed on, “Because if you have been watching me for as long as I have watched you, then there can be no doubt as to my feelings. No doubt as to where my heart lies. But you ignored me for years. And now you have the audacity to mock me when I seek you out?”

Benjicot’s eyes were back on your face, his gaze soft and pleading. A complete departure from the anger and fury he had shown you earlier. This man looked like your Benjicot. The boy who had rescued you. The man who had defended you. The one you loved with all your heart.

His voice was quiet but his words strong, “I am a simple man, my lady. A simple man who needs plain words. What are these feelings of which you speak?”

Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you sucked in a breath. You swore that he would have no more pieces of you. Swore that would you put an end to this madness. But your heart would always rule over your head.

Finding your courage, you opened your eyes, and reached for his hand. Bringing his hand to your lips, you pressed a kiss to the cracked knuckles and whispered, “I have loved you ever since we met in these woods all those years ago.”

Benjicot stilled. You were not sure if he was even breathing, but you pushed on, “You occupy all my thoughts and haunt my dreams. You consume me, and I—” You cut yourself off before you could continue.

You tried to remain unaffected, but the longer Benjicot held you, the more your body betrayed you. You felt your blood racing through your veins, felt the heat rising to your cheeks, felt a slickness begin to gather between your legs. You tried to pull away again to give yourself a moment of respite from this torture.

But Benjicot was having none of it.

He watched the way you squirmed under his gaze. Watched the way your chest heaved from the force of your confession. Watched your cheeks grow flush and warm. And when he caught your eyes again and saw your gaze drift to his lips before licking your own, he knew he was a goner.

“My lady,” Benjicot’s voice was like gravel, “had I known you were so afflicted, I never would have left you alone for so long.”

Hauling you closer, Benjicot traced his fingers from your collarbone up your neck, watching as your pulse jumped. Cupping your cheek, he brought his face close to yours, mere inches separating the two of you, and confessed, “From the moment you cut yourself on my dagger, I have loved you.”

Now it was your turn to still. For so long you had waited to hear these words, waited to be in his arms.

Benjicot kissed your forehead, mumbling against your skin, “No one else could ever compare to you, my lady.” He moved to kiss your jaw. “You are the bravest”—a kiss to your cheek—“strongest”—a kiss to your temple—“most beautiful woman I ever met.”

Kissing the corner of your mouth, Benjicot pulled back momentarily to stare into your eyes. “From that day until the end of my days, there will only ever be you.”

You were at your breaking point. You could not hold yourself back any longer. Flinging your arms around his neck, you pulled Benjicot toward you and kissed him.

And oh, what a kiss.

Your advance might have thrown Benjicot initially off guard, but he recovered quickly, remedying the situation and taking control. One hand in your hair and the other at your waist, he moved your head to the position he wanted, slanting his lips over yours and feasting.

His kisses left your breathless. Your head held no thoughts other than more, more, more. Benjicot’s teeth nipped at your lips, forcing your mouth to open and surrender. He wasted no time in stroking his tongue against yours, exploring and claiming. And when his hand moved from your waist to knead your breasts, you moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer.

Your taste, your sounds, your very being—Benjicot wanted it all for himself. You owned him, body and soul. And he was greedy to own you in return.

In the haze of his kisses, you did not realize that your feet no longer touched the ground. Benjicot had lifted you in the air. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, bringing the hardness of him against the softness of you.

Your back was against a tree, but you did not feel the rough bark. You only felt Benjicot’s lips and hands, moving across your flesh, mapping and exploring. But when Benjicot made his way to the bottom of your dress, running his hand over your delicate ankle, he paused and pulled back. There was a question in his eyes—did you wish to continue?

You nodded eagerly. No doubt or hesitation with your choice.

And Benjicot smiled. That wicked, feral smile he donned just before a fight. Another searing kiss to your lips before his hand began to move up your calf to your thigh. He was so close to where wanted him. Where you ached for him.

But Benjicot paused just short of your cunt. And when you whined at his delay, he laughed and asked, “Tell me, my lady. Have you ever touched yourself before?”

Words were beyond you. You felt dizzied and dazed, but you managed a nod.

Benjicot moved his hand another inch higher. Lips grazing your ear and hot breath on your neck. “And tell me, what did you think of when you touched yourself? What did you imagine when you brought your fingers to your warm, wet cunt?”

You wanted to die. This surely must be hell. You shook your heard, too embarrassed and flustered to answer.

Benjicot started to move his hand back down your leg, but you clenched your thighs, trapping his hand between them. Raising your head, you glared at him, but all he did was smile. “I know what you want, my lady. And I am eager to please. All I ask is that you answer the question.”

Wicked, cruel, insufferable man.

But you were desperate. An impossible ache had built inside you, and you knew that Benjicot was the only one who would relieve you.

So you put aside your pride. Clearing your throat, you whispered, “You. I thought of you, Benjicot Blackwood.”

And that was all he needed. Pushing aside your small clothes, he exposed your cunt to the air. You cried out at the feeling, arching against him as he finally slid his hand between your folds.

The first brush of him against you dragged a groan from deep in your throat. Benjicot groaned in reply, delighted at the wetness he found waiting for him. His thumb circled your clit, pressing and dragging and teasing. His other hand worked your breast while his lips pressed into your neck.

It was an assault on all fronts. Your body had never felt so hot. And when he plunged one finger into your core, you bucked your hips in response.

“I thought of you, too.” How he managed to talk, you had no idea. But even through the haze of lust, you heard him. “Thought of you spread naked on my bed when I took myself in hand. Thought of your tight, wet heat on my cock. Thought of how soft you would feel, how perfect you would be for me.”

“Benji—” You whined as he added a second finger. You had never felt so full in your life.

“That’s it,” he murmured, lips against your ears.

You pulled Benjicot’s face away from your neck and captured his lips with your own, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

Benjicot groaned, plunging his fingers in and out, hard and fast. Your existence narrowed to the feeling. You were so close, the tightness becoming nearly unbearable. You just needed one final—

The sound of your name on his lips was your undoing. Release barreled down upon you, so much so that you felt like you could break in half. You cried out Benjicot’s name, as his lips covered yours once again. The kiss was all teeth and tongue. You felt as though you were being devoured.

You clenched around his fingers again, and Benjicot let out a curse. He stroked you through your release until you were limp in his arms, kissing you all the while.

You could barely catch you breath. And when Benjicot finally pulled away and withdrew his hand, you met his stare and lost your breath all over again. Because the smile he gave you now was one you had never seen before. It was soft and tender and just for you. His lady.

You wanted to stay in these woods forever. Your own sanctuary that could not be touched by outside forces. Just when you were about to express that desire, you felt Benjicot tense against you.

And that’s when you heard. Voices. Loud and angry and coming closer by the second.

You shot Benjicot a panicked look and watched as he transformed in front of your eyes. Gone was any trace of softness or warmth, replaced instead by a hard and vicious look that had you trembling.

Bloody Ben now stood before you.

Lowering you to the ground, Benjicot tucked you between his body and the tree. He looked around, trying to decide the best course of action. You could practically see his mind at work, thinking through the various scenarios to get you to safety.

You saw the moment he reached a decision. Leaning down, he pressed one final kiss to your lips and asked, “Do you trust me?”

You did not hesitate. “Of course, I trust—” But before you could finish, your world went dark. Benjicot Blackwood had once again knocked you unconscious.

He only hoped that you would forgive him for what he was about to do.

-- Let me know what you think! And don't worry lovelies--I'm already working on part 3.

taglist: @painted-flag @majoso12 @strollthroughstars29 @a-whiterose

#benjicot blackwood #davos blackwood #hotd #hotd x you #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood x reader #bloody ben x reader #benjicot Blackwood imagine #benjicot Blackwood imagines #benjicot Blackwood x you #my fics #bloody ben x you

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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago

Text

The Arrangement (7) - Tension

Chapter summary: Astarion needs to feed and things get out of hand... again.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Masturbation, Precum, Innuendo. Astarion briefly talking you through it. Sexual tension. Sexual frustration.

Word count: 5.4k

Series Masterlist

Astarion needed to feed.

That undeniable fact had come to light in various forms.

You were quite sure that, to the others, it was a blessing in disguise, as Astarion's snarky remarks were now sparse.

But you knew better.

You knew him better.

He hadn't even made a single comment when Gale brought home some horrendous tapestry that he promptly hung on the wall.

That was when you knew he was due a proper feeding.

You glanced at him over your shoulder as you diced some fruit to start the day off.

Astarion was seemingly deep in thought as he masterfully threaded a needle along the edge of the collar of his shirt.

Your heart fluttered briefly as you recalled his enjoyment in embroidery. He had once revealed it helped him hone his dexterity while looking fabulous at it.

A faint smile tugged at your lips, and you returned your attention to the cutting board.

The morning had started off slow and quiet and, for the first time in a long time, you had gotten a proper night's rest.

You couldn't tell if your conversation with Astarion was the sole reason for that, considering you did try the lavender extract Shadowheart had given you. Regardless, there was this pleasant and warm feeling brewing within you.

The joys of communication laced with a touch of intimacy truly left you feeling at peace.

But then…

Your face tensed up as your thought drifted back to Ava.

All pleasant feelings morphed into dread at the conjured image of Astarion offering her his blood.

Whatever interest she had in it had to be rooted in something nefarious. You refused to believe otherwise. Besides, how could she even accept such an exchange when dealing with his vulnerability?

That wasn't right.

You were so caught up in the haunting visual projection of her bleeding him dry, that you didn't realise someone was pressing against you from behind.

“I, for one, am glad we are not back in the wilderness, darling.”

Astarion.

You jolted in surprise as his chin came to rest on your shoulder, his hand drifting down your arm to grip the knife you were holding.

“Anyone with ill-intentions would have you gutted by now.” His voice was low with the faintest hint of a tease.

He was absolutely correct.

Your distraction could have landed you in a bit of a predicament not long ago.

But your gaze was now set on how his hand examined the blade.

“This knife needs polishing,” he said, shifting his lips closer to your neck. “And the edge needs sharpening.”

Oh, he really needed to feed.

And he wasn't even being subtle about it at this point as his lips ghosted your skin.

“I'll get to it later.”

You were trying your hardest to keep your composure, feeling the palms of your hands sweat when he pressed further against you.

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest and your back. “Honestly, I'm surprised you can cut through anything but butter with this.”

He had to know.

He had to know how your pulse had quickened so easily because of him.

“Astarion.”

“Hmm?”

But your mind had blanked for a second, your body reacting instinctively to his.

His hand was closed around yours, thumb rubbing circles on your heated skin as he pressed his cold lips to the throbbing artery that ran along your neck.

Gods…

“You need to feed.”

He paused briefly. “It's quite adorable how you can tell whenever I'm craving your blood.”

You would have dropped the knife had he not been making sure you kept a firm grip on the handle.

“You aren't being particularly subtle.”

He let out a dramatic gasp. “I'm merely offering help with this sad blunt knife, my darling.”

Well, his idea of ‘help’ now involved him pressing his thumb against yours to have it tracing circles along the handle.

“I reckon your grip isn't adequate either,” he whispered in your ear this time. “You must grip it tighter .”

Oh.

Oh…

He was too good at courtship.

The innuendo wasn't lost on you, and you nearly rolled your eyes at his bluntness.

“I do know how to grip a knife, Astarion.”

He chuckled once again. “Yes, I remember your fierce grip whe–”

But before he could finish his sentence, a scoff was heard next to you and you immediately jolted back in panic, slamming into Astarion's lower half.

“Gods! ” he wailed in pain.

Chaos ensued as fruit went flying off the table and rolling along the floor, the knife landing at your feet and the jarring sound of metal clattering around.

“Is everything alright?” Gale's alarmed voice was heard.

Lae'zel merely stood with arms crossed and looking as unfazed as ever.

“Could you two keep your mating rituals out of the kitchen?”

Your eyes widened at her accusation, crouching to clean up the mess. “Oh! No – no! We were not – Astarion was just… just talking about polishing this knife.” You immediately held the blade in your hand for Lae'zel to see.

She raised a brow instead. “Yes. I am quite sure Astarion wouldn't mind you polishing his knife.”

Your jaw dropped.

Astarion was still hunched over the table, clutching his crotch and spilling profanities.

Shit.

You must have hit him really hard.

Lae'zel threw a final scoff heavy with disapproval at both of you before pacing away.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean it…” You started off, wincing as Astarion massaged the soreness away.

He waved a hand dismissively. “You're a menace even when you don't mean to.”

As he straightened up with a low growl, you noticed the colossal height difference.

Kneeling on the floor, you gathered the scattered fruit and utensils as you looked up at Astarion.

A playful smirk tugged at his lips when he met your gaze. “Not even going to kiss it better, darling?”

You were now at eye-level with his crotch and, for a moment, you thought he had rendered you speechless.

But two could play this game.

You placed a hand dramatically over your mouth. “Right here? In front of everyone? Astarion! ”

You hadn't bothered keeping your voice down and as you rose back to your feet again, you saw a couple of heads turn your way.

Gale looked utterly confused while Lae'zel rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the sword in her hands.

Astarion's smile only deepened. “Oh, you vicious little tease – that was good.”

You patted your clothes straight with a proud smirk before leaning in closer to his face.

“I learned from the best.”

And you quickly pressed a fleeting kiss to his cheek.

He stirred briefly under your touch and you offered him a kind smile as you walked away, casually taking a bite off a pear.

“You should do that more often if it means we are greeted with his silence.” Lae'zel complimented as you sat by her side.

Astarion looked as though you had just slammed a frying pan on his head, but his eyes following your every move.

It wasn't every day that once could take pride in leaving Astarion speechless.

He could hand out the most intricate of innuendos laced with sexual tension, but show him small acts of affection, and he will be disarmed in an instant.

You still remembered that first hug you ever gave him in Moonrise Towers and how he was stunned at first.

“Are you malfunctioning, Astarion?” Shadowheart suddenly quipped as she trailed down the flight of stairs.

You giggled softly at how adorable he looked, even when he finally came to his senses and shook his head, frowning slightly.

“They were engaging in some bizarre pre-mating ritual,” Lae'zel spoke up, inspecting her sword up close. “Seems like she won. Not that I'm surprised.”

Shadowheart winced, disgust splattered all over her face.

Gale chose the wrong time to sip his camomile tea and nearly choked, and you rushed to his side to pat him on the back.

“You do have a way with words, no doubt,” he drawled out, clearing his throat.

Even as used to her bluntness as you were, you still felt heat rush to your cheeks. “We were not doing such a thing.”

She merely shrugged.

Having snapped out of his previous stunned state, Astarion cleared his throat. “You sound jealous, Lae'zel. Should we invite you over?”

You gave him a murderous look, which only served to fuel his boldness.

“Jealous of what, Astarion? Getting kicked in the balls?”

He scoffed.

A soft knock on the door was heard and Shadowheart swiftly moved to open it.

Your stomach flipped momentarily, hoping it wasn't an undesired visit yet again.

But your worries were laid to rest as Wyll strolled in, accompanied by a Fist.

You bolted from the sofa, pulling him into a hug, which he promptly returned.

“I would normally welcome your visit, but the look on your face tells me you don't come bearing good words.” Gale said, tension heavy in his voice.

Wyll parted from you and his silence was truly revealing.

You shuddered and felt panic rising inside you. “What is it? What happened?”

He forced a warm smile. “Shall we take a seat?”

“Or…” Astarion said with a deep scowl. “... you could simply spit out whatever ill-news you're about to drop on us without the unnecessary foreplay.”

Wyll sighed as you motioned for him to take a seat, as everyone else followed suit. The Fist stopped by his side, an unreadable face turned to Astarion.

“Can I get you something?” you asked.

He shook his head vehemently. “I am not staying long. Just offering an update on the murder case.”

You heaved a deep breath, eyeing him expectantly.

“Well? Get on with it,” Astarion goaded impatiently with a click of his tongue.

Shadowheart seemed quite tense all of a sudden and Lae'zel kept a hand on her sword handle.

“It seems that Astarion is no longer a suspect.”

You watched as he rose from his seat with a smile. “Finally. Glad this is all settled!”

“Not so fast,” Wyll said, his face heavy. “Have a seat.”

He sank back into the chair with a deep scowl and crossed arms as a child who had just been told to finish their vegetables.

“After talking to some of the passers-by from that night, the general consensus is that you were the only one they spotted,” Wyll said, turning his head to you. “No one recalls a second person being there, let alone that person being Astarion.”

Your heart dropped before speeding up again.

“What… does that mean?” you said in a whisper.

There was a brief silence and you could feel the tension in the room becoming increasingly more palpable.

“For all intents and purposes, you are regarded as the only offender.”

A cold layer of sweat took over your body all at once.

“Nonsense,” Astarion scoffed in disbelief. “I was there with her. I got captured.”

This time, the Fist was the one to speak, “You offered to get captured, spawn .”

“I wasn't talking to you, Fist .”

You felt Gale's arm around your shoulder protectively. “Wyll, this is ludicrous. No one here murdered anyone.”

He nodded. “I agree. I do believe this to be a grave misunderstanding. However, upon closer inspection of the body, there were some interesting findings.”

You were too stunned to utter a single word, thankful that your companions were doing the talking instead.

Lae'zel's grip on the sword intensified, her stare glued to the plate-armoured Fist. “Such as?”

“Necrotic magic reminiscent of that found in the Szarr palace.”

You watched as Astarion stilled all of a sudden, lips pressed together.

“Which we cannot further compare since someone burned down the entire place,” the Fist said, eyes shifting to Astarion.

The grand manor had gone up in flames not long ago, and you did know Astarion had had a hand in it, but with no proof of his crime, there was no effective way to pin him to it.

But it had been enough to strain his relationship with The Flaming Fist with only Wyll being able to keep them at bay.

“Accusing me of arson now? My, my, add it to my tab, dear,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

But Wyll's patience was wearing thin. “None of this makes any sense. If the two of you are not to be blamed for this – which I definitely stand by – then who could benefit from tangling you into this mess?”

Ava.

Your mind immediately jumped to her.

You had no idea what purpose that could serve, but your instinct seldom failed you.

Even so, you remained silent.

“We are to continue the investigations, naturally,” Wyll went on with a nod. “Necromancy is grounds for imprisonment. Whoever did this, needs to be found and brought to justice.”

Astarion tumbled his fingers on the table. “Well, if you are so sure we are innocent, then let us go.”

“Justice should be blind. I know it is not always the case, but as a former magistrate, I am sure you can agree on the principle.”

Astarion waved dismissively. “It's a sound principle on paper, but its application is tainted and unjust. No one expects the lordlings of Baldur's Gate to answer for any crime.”

Wyll's face twisted into a faint frown. “As true as that might be, I am not keen on upholding such practice. Friend or foe, everyone must face the consequences of their actions.”

A mysterious smile settled on Astarion's lips, but he didn't retort.

Shadowheart cleared her throat. “I could lend my expertise in the matter, Wyll. I could examine the body myself. I have some contacts in the city that could aid me, but I shall need a sample.”

He seemed to hesitate at first, but then slowly nodded. “Very well.”

“So what now?” you finally found your voice again, eager for any glimmer of hope.

Wyll gave you a kind smile. “My friend, do not fret. I am keeping you both here as safekeeping for now. The Council of Four remains sceptical, but if someone did try to frame you, then it is best to stay out of sight.”

You gave him a reluctant nod, realising that time was the only thing on your side for now.

“We've increased the security outside,” the Fist said flatly. “We've added detection spells and mage slayers on rotation.”

You looked up, startled. “ Mage slayers? ”

Gale shared your indignation, the arm around you tensing up. “That is quite extreme.”

“Is it?” Wyll asked. “You two are quite powerful at magic, my friends – but there is always a bigger fish.”

“No wonder my magic has been wavering this morning,” Gale said, rubbing at his chest before pacing towards the window and taking a peek behind the black curtains. “ Two? Wyll, this is–”

“Necessary. For now.”

You swallowed hard, burying your face in your hands in sheer frustration.

“On a lighter note” Wyll began once again. “I was informed that you are to go to Waterdeep to meet with your contact.”

Gale returned to his seat, looking livid. “Yes. We are expecting some proper information on the Wish spell.”

“Good news, then, Astarion,” he said with a soft smile.

He threw a poisonous glare at him instead. “Seeing is believing, or so they say. I will not be celebrating until I am strolling down the sunlight streets of this city without having my ashes being swept off the pavement and into an ashtray..”

Wyll gave him a light-hearted laugh before rising to his feet, adjusting his cloak. “Fair enough. Though my offer still stands, should things go awry.”

That immediately piqued your interest. “What offer?”

Astarion shrugged. “Oh, dear Wyll made me an offer after becoming duke.”

“Which you refused.”

He nodded with a frown. “I am not a dog to order around.”

Your gaze kept switching between the two of them, feeling lost.

“That was never the implication of my offer, friend. You know the nightlife of Baldur's Gate better than anyone. Your intel would be of great value,” Wyll said in exasperation.

“And you are an adequate rogue,” the Fist said.

Astarion immediately scoffed. “ Adequate? I could have you pinned to that wall at the tip of my dagger faster than you can say ‘Baldur's Gate’,” he said with a laugh, but his words held no humour.

“I'd like to see you try, spawn."

Astarion drew his dagger from its sheath, twirling it playfully between his fingers.

Wyll quickly intervened. “It's not one or the other, Astarion. You could have both. We would keep searching for a way to cure your vampirism, while you'd take to the streets to help us fight wrongdoers.”

Well.

It did sound like a solid proposal.

“I would still need to feed.”

“We would bring you fresh carcasses at your demand.”

Astarion was now inspecting his nails. “What about thinking creatures?”

Wyll tensed up immediately. “No.”

Astarion smiled playfully. “Then I'm better off with my current arrangement. The blood of carrion can only do so much for my body and mind.”

He exchanged a look with you.

“I don't mind helping you out,” you said firmly.

Wyll sighed heavily. “Well, I do not like that arrangement one bit, but it's your blood, so it's your choice.”

As he paced towards the door after bidding his goodbyes, you hurried after him.

“I have a favour to ask.”

He arched an inquisitive brow. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, glancing around to make sure no one could listen.

“I need to go to The Blushing Mermaid.”

Wyll's eyes widened. “The Blushing Mermaid? Why?”

“I need to talk to someone there,” you said in a whisper. “And maybe you should come, too.”

He chuckled. “My days sneaking into that tavern are long gone, my friend. It would not be suitable for the Duke of Ravengard to visit such a place.”

You shook your head, grasping his hand in a plea. “ Please . There's this woman. Astarion's… acquaintance . Ava. She is – or used to be – a monster hunter and she has been taking blood from him.”

You blurted out the words in one breath, hoping he wouldn't ask you to repeat yourself.

If there was anyone who might be able to help you with this issue, it would be Wyll. After all, his experience as a monster slayer and as the Blade of Frontiers had to account for something.

He looked positively flabbergasted. “A monster hunter… bedding a… vampire spawn?” he drawled out as if trying to make sense of your words.

That effectively struck a nerve in you. “She is not bedding him… but there is something off about her.”

“Ava you say? That name doesn't ring a bell.”

You mustered all your courage. “Please let me go talk to her… I have a feeling she might be involved in this entire mess.”

That caught his attention. “You think she's behind this? No respectable monster hunter would resort to Necromancy.”

“She's meddling with Alchemy now.”

He seemed… alarmed.

“Very well. I cannot accompany you today, but tomorrow we shall go there.”

You expected more resistance from him, and his sudden availability made you feel very wary all of a sudden.

“How bad do you think this is?”

The Fist appeared from behind Wyll, startling you. “My Lord, we ought to go. We have a council meeting to attend.”

Wyll nodded and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe it's nothing at all.”

Maybe it's nothing, but it could be anything…

As he moved out and the door closed behind him, Astarion hurried to join your side, clearing his throat.

“You two have gotten quite close.”

You scoffed at him, not in the mood for indulging in his banter.

“Well, being pleasant to others has its perks.”

Astarion smirked widely, his fangs peeking through. “I can be pleasant, darling.”

You rolled your eyes.

But it seemed that Astarion was bent on having your attention on him.

“So… sweet and righteous Wyll?”

You squinted, realising where this was headed. “Are you jealous, Astarion?”

As expected, he didn't bend easily to your taunt as he was a master at it and an equally skilled dodger.

So, he merely held his smirk, seeing through your intent.

“Can I feed on you tonight?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Right.

He still needed to feed.

His bluntness caught you slightly off guard. “Uh… of course.”

You watched as his smile only grew wider before he leaned in to plant a quick kiss to your cheek.

Your eyes widened as the coldness of his lips parted from your skin and your mouth fell agape.

“Splendid.”

And he swiftly went back to his embroidery duties, humming some camp songs as if he hadn't just made your heart almost implode.

Across the room, you spotted Lae'zel rolling her eyes.

Astarion came to you in the dead of night.

The door to your room clicked shut behind him and you immediately felt your body react to his presence.

With only candlelight and the muted glow from the moon spilling through the uncovered windows, you realised he looked more beautiful than ever.

Your heartbeat nearly doubled as you rose from your bed, waiting for him to close the distance.

And he did.

With sure and slow steps, he came to you.

His black shirt held a new embroidery near the collar.

Exquisite needlework.

He held a faint smile as you traced the flowery lining with one finger.

“This is beautiful.”

“My fingers can make or break,” he whispered softly, his crimson eyes set on you. “Depending on what the situation requires, that is.”

You swallowed hard as his words seeped through your mind, reminding you that the man before you had experience and knowledge in matters you could only dream of achieving.

He held your chin, gently tilting your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you waited for a kiss.

And he did kiss you.

Just not where you expected.

Or wanted.

His lips lingered on the swell of your cheek, your body already accustomed to the difference in temperature.

“I was thinking…”

He hummed, tilting your head slightly to the left, so he could mirror the kiss on the other cheek.

“You can feed on me more often, if you'd like…”

Astarion pulled back slowly, an elegant eyebrow arched. “More often?”

“Yes. If you want to, of course.”

He eyed you in disbelief, the thumb on your chin rubbing gently circles. “If I want to? Darling, if I had it my way, I would feed on you every single day.”

His words hit hard and not because the prospect of that scenario scared you.

But because you wished he would do it.

The moments when he fed on you belonged to the two of you alone.

No one could interfere in the intimacy of it.

He would not feed on anyone else but you.

And that sort of craving was easy to get addicted to.

You wanted him to want you.

To feel comfortable enough with you that he wouldn't seek anyone else.

“Maybe we can do it every other day, then?” you suggested, nearly gasping as his thumb moved up to trace your lower lip.

Astarion glared at you in silence for a moment, caressing your flesh and occasionally teasing further by pushing past your lips.

“Do you have enough scrolls of Lesser Restoration for that?”

You nodded, feeling his thumb being pushed inside.

“So, I can feed more often…” he said, eyes dropping to your mouth.

He sounded absolutely delighted and you closed your lips around him, earning a low growl of approval.

Then you let go and he moved to your lower lip once again.

“More often, but less quantity.”

He nodded with a smile. “Seems fair.”

The room was already heavy with sexual tension, and you needed to disperse it before things escalated too quickly.

“Are you still tender down there?” you asked sweetly.

“Well, there is only one way to test out if you haven't caused irreparable damage.”

Oh.

Of course.

You felt a wave of heat flush to your face at his words.

Because Astarion would get an erection eventually.

It was expected and, at this point, more than welcome.

“Go on. Make yourself comfortable,” he said, pointing to your bed.

You stared at him in confusion. He usually fed on you while standing. It was more practical and less intimate.

But then it dawned on you that maybe that was what he was aiming for.

“This one might be a long feed.”

Your expectations shattered at once and you gave him a hesitant stare, remaining rooted in place.

“Honestly, after all the times I fed on you, you still worry I might take it too far?”

“Can you blame me?”

He chuckled, placing both hands on your shoulder before planting a kiss to the back of your head.

“I suppose not, but you are free to press a stake to my chest just in case,” he said teasingly.

You picked a scroll from inside the bedside table, placing it carefully atop as it waited for the inevitable moment.

Slowly, he let go of you so you could settle back on your back, feeling the soft mattress envelop your body.

Your legs were firmly pressed together and you laced your hands in each other and on your stomach, waiting for his move.

Astarion hunched over you before shifting until his face met yours.

You felt the mattress dip under you as he got on top.

At this point, your heart was drumming so loudly in your ears, that it drowned out any other noise.

Unexpectedly, you felt his lips on yours, but before you could react, he had lowered himself until you felt his tongue swiping along the skin of your neck.

Just like clockwork, you felt a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body and lingering between your legs. You tensed up and clutched your hands together more fiercely, bracing yourself for what was to come.

The initial sting made you jolt lightly as he pushed his fangs further into you, before his lips closed around the wound and he began to suck.

The first gasp didn't take long to spill from your lips from the sound of his faint moans.

The throb between your legs continued to intensity with each passing second, and you prayed to any god above to spare you from succumbing to the lurking lust.

You felt him untangle your hands and pinning both your wrists together and above your head as he lowered himself even further.

And much to your embarrassment, your legs instinctively parted to accommodate him as he pressed further into you.

Gods… no, no, no….

This was not good at all.

Even through the fabric of your trousers, you could feel his growing erection nudging against you.

Astarion's chest rumbled in a growl of approval and you couldn't keep your hips from rolling, seeking that delicious friction.

You balled your fists as your back arched when his hips began to match yours.

No… no…

The throb in your head was nearly blinding from the blood being drained whilst the one in between your legs only intensified.

“Astarion…” you moaned through gritted teeth.

He slowed down ever so slightly, but you quickly realise it was even more torturous as you could now feel the clothed underside of his thick cock teasing between your folds.

Oh, you were not going to last long like this…

You were too hungry for him to deny yourself from reaching your peak as he fed on you.

Even as your body became weaker, you could still feel yourself walking dangerously fast to the precipice, yearning that sweet release.

“I'm going… I'm going to…” you mumbled, feeling wetness drip from you as your body readied itself for him to be inside you.

Your breathing quickened and your gasps began to merge together as his cock dug harder against you with each roll.

And just as your eyes closed shut and your mouth parted to welcome the pinnacle of your pleasure, you felt him pull back with a guttural growl.

Blood trailed down his lips and chin and neck and you nearly cried tears of overwhelming frustration as you were denied your release.

He moved to grip the scroll and shoved it into your hand.

“Say it.”

Astarion knelt in between your legs, fumbling with the lacing of his trousers, his bulge strained against the fabric and you spotted the familiar stains of precum.

“Say it…” he urged you with a growl.

But you could only stare, mesmerised at the beautiful sight of relief he let out once he managed to ease pressure that had built up.

It made your mouth water and you suddenly felt the urge to touch yourself.

“Say. It .”

As if he had just snapped you from a dream, you quickly mumbled the incantation as the scroll vanished into thin air.

Your heart was hit with newfound vigour as warmth spread throughout your body on rhythmic waves.

Astarion slid off the bed, adjusting himself through his clothes with a whine.

He looked so beautiful… ears flushed pink and a tint of a blush on his face as your blood coursed through him.

The swell and throb didn't fade and you allowed your fingers to dip slightly under the waistband, wanting nothing but release.

He eventually locked eyes with you, licking the remnants of your blood from his lips, pacing closer to you.

With a gasp, you felt him tug at the strings of your own trousers, eyes dark and pupils fully blown.

“Do what you must.”

He had loosened them just enough for your hand to slide inside, and you couldn't contain the moan that erupted from within you once the pads of your fingers brushed against the throbbing swell between your legs.

Instinctively, you began to roll your hips, feeling just how ridiculously soaked you were for him.

Your half-hooded eyes landed on his lower half, taking in the sight of the precum that had seeped through the fabric and wishing you could see his cock.

Astarion's cock always looked the prettiest after he had fed on you: all flushed pink, bulging veins snaking around his length, precum dribbling down…

But it seemed that he had no intention of granting you your wish, and you felt guilty for craving it in the first place, knowing he probably just wanted to take his time.

So you stopped your ministrations, which earned a disapproving growl from him.

“Keep going. I can hear how wet you are for me and it's music to my ears,” he whispered, before kneeling at your side. “Be a good girl… please .”

Your hips bucked at the caress from his words.

His face was so close, but his eyes were fixed on your hand that moved under your trousers, your own fingers teasing your entrance.

“You just slid one inside, didn't you?”

You bit down on your lip, nodding with a whimper as you clenched around yourself.

“Gods… you can take another one, can't you?”

Your back arched and your eyes fluttered shut. “Astarion…”

His lips ghosted yours. “Add another one…”

His voice was dripping with lust and it was all the incentive you needed to push a second one inside.

You tried to remember how his cock felt inside you. How full you always felt and how much cum he spilled inside you.

Your fingers were no match for him.

He felt so much better…

How you wished he would replace your fingers with his, going knuckle-deep and drawing out the most desperate moans and pleas from you.

He finally pressed his now warm lips against yours and you eagerly deepened the kiss, tasting your blood on his tongue.

You kept riding your own fingers and you nearly whimpered as his hand came to rest on your forearm, thumb caressing your heated skin.

He broke the kiss not long after and your eyes snapped open as you were about to voice a complaint.

Astarion was on his feet again, fingers expertly tying the front of his trousers once again, drawing a pained hiss as his hard cock was once again strained.

You whimpered in response, rolling your hips desperately as your fingers edged you closer and closer.

“It's frustrating, isn't it?” he asked as he finished working on the lacing, crushing your hopes of seeing his cock leaking precum for you.

“Now you know how it feels..." he said, a devious smile crossing his face. "Besides, I still wonder if this is what friends do."

Your jaw slacked open as a gasp mixed with a whine escaped your lips from his taunting words.

No. No. No...

"See, you never gave me an answer, darling."

You removed your fingers from deep within you with a long and pained whine on the verge of tears.

"I'll leave you to figure it out, then."

Before you could voice a protest, he slipped out of the room quickly, and you vaguely wondered if he had been there at all if not more the ache between your legs and the fresh puncture wounds in your neck.

Fuck.

TBC

series masterlist . ao3

#astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader

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