#is this why I wrote a wicked fic
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wetcatspellcaster · 6 months ago
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why is Act 3 so...
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zeppelinlvr · 4 months ago
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Two Reverse
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Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Summary: You, Dean, and Sam go after a demon on short notice, you end up getting hurt in the process.
Felt sad, wrote angst sorry guys. Also, I know Andromalius is a higher up demon having 36 legions of demons at his service (I think?) and I know it's unlikely you’d be dealing with him as the process of even trying to summon him would be so complicated, but demonology is so complex just pretend him going after you is reasonable. Also i’ve been on an Adrianne Lenker kick lately so bear with me. Thank you all for the support on all my fics! 💗💗
Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending cus I can't write sad endings), cursing, fluff.
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You and Sam were desperately researching, trying to find out what demon was targeting these people, four had died already and the two of you had made little progress. Dean was out interviewing people and trying to get anything he could about what you were dealing with.
“Sam, I think I know what we’re dealing with” you told him “I looked into the victims and two of them were thieves, not just shoplifting, they broke into people's houses and stole valuable items, and two of the other victims were just assholes, they were both bullies in high school and were super entitled”
“I’m not following, how are they connected” Sam asked
“The demon Andromalius goes after people who are wicked and theives, he’s not in a lot of the common demonology books is probably why we hadn't made the connection sooner but he’s mentioned in The Goetia, the Lesser key of Solomon” You explained
“Best explanation we have, I���ll start looking into how to exorcize him” Sam replied
“I’ll call Dean and we can figure out a plan to draw him in” you told Sam.
Dean was headed back to the motel, having little luck with his interviews. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket and saw your name as the caller id and the stupid picture you had taken of yourself and made your contact photo. He smiled at your dumb expression before answering the call.
“hey, I didn’t find-“ he started but was cut off by your quick rambling, you were excited to finally have figured out what you were dealing with.
You explained to Dean what you had told Sam, then asked “we need to figure out a way to lure him into us, Sam’s researching right now but I wanted to see if you had any ideas”
“Well, I’m a thief and I’m probably wicked so we could use me as bait, figure out how to get him near us, then I’ll distract him while you and Sam try to kill him” Dean suggested
Your stomach knotted at his plan, you didn’t want him to put himself in danger “Dean, I don’t want to use you as bait, we can think of something else” you said trying to hide the worry in your voice.
“I can handle myself sweetheart” he told you “I’m almost back to the motel, I’ll talk to you more then” he hung up the phone after you exchanged goodbyes.
As he said, Dean arrived in the motel room a couple of minutes later. you gave him a brief hug upon his arrival, not out of the ordinary, he got used to the fact you were touchier than him and he was okay with it, never admitting it but he enjoyed being hugged by you.
You explained Deans plan to Sam, making sure to comment on how bad of an idea you thought it was, hoping Sam would also immediately shoot it down.
“We might not have any other choice, I’m getting signs of him a few miles from here, we need to go now” Sam grimaced
You sighed, worry filling your body but you chose to push it away, frantically getting ready to leave with Dean and Sam.
Dean hurled to a stop in front of a mildly secluded house, when you stepped out of the car the three of you heard things breaking and screams coming from inside. You all quickly ran to the door, Dean not bothering to pick the lock but rather just choosing to kick it down.
The scene in front of you was horrific, there was a woman, who had already died, lying on the floor of the living room. You heard a struggle down the hall and Dean made his way there, signaling you and Sam to stay out of sight in order to try to get some element of surprise.
When Andromalius caught sight of Dean he dropped the man who he had nearly killed. Dean yelled out “I’m here you asshole, come get me”
“No, it’s not you I’m after” Andromalius hissed
Dean's expression faltered slightly but he tried his best to keep the demon distracted “I steal all the time, and I’m definitely not a good person” he shrugged
Sam had an opening to the demon, he figured it was now or never, so he ran out from the spot he was hiding in. He was stopped before he had a chance to stab the demon. Sam found himself pushed against the wall with a harsh force.
“Where’s the girl?” Andromalius said, a dark expression growing on his face.
Dean clenched his jaw, trying to hide his worry “She’s an angel compared to me, you don’t want her” he defended
You snuck your way out of your spot, and managed to grab the knife Sam had dropped. You had your arm in the air, ready to stab him when he quickly whipped around, smirking when his face met yours.
You felt a force choking you, and slowly lifting you off the ground, tears welled in your eyes and you desperately tried to kick and fight back.
Then the searing pain came, ripping through your abdomen. You choked out a scream and tears poured down your face, you tried to kick and claw at him as the panic truly set in about how this could end. You cried out as the strength left your body, your vision blurring.
Dean and Sam were both struggling with everything they had. Dean had managed to get ahold of the knife, and with Andromalius’s focus stuck on you, Dean stabbed him in his back.
The demon had been killed and you fell to the floor, his force no longer holding you up. You choked and gasped for air. You were a mess, crying and panic still coursing through you.
Dean ran over to you, kneeling beside you and cradling you in his lap.
“Hey, it’s okay sweetheart, you did so good” he tried to comfort, his voice shaking.
He quickly flung off his jacket, pressing it to your abdomen, you hadn’t noticed the severity of the cut from how panic stricken you were, but you were losing a lot of blood.
“Sammy call 911” Dean yelled at him
“you’re gonna be okay, just keep looking at me, okay” he told you, trying to keep you calm.
The pain of the gash was becoming more prominent as your adrenaline wore off, you felt yourself growing weaker.
“Dean, thank you for always looking out for me” you choked out, it hurt to speak but you needed to tell him “You and Sam are the best things to happen to me” you tried to hold back the stinging tears, a lump in your throat. “I love you so much Dean”
“Hey no, don’t give me a goodbye speech, you’re going to be okay” he said shakily, a few tears running down his face.
“An ambulance is on the way, keep applying pressure” Sam told Dean, as he made his way over to you, helping Dean support your body.
You fought so hard to keep your eyes open and to keep listening to Dean voice, his reassurance that you were going to be okay, it was just a scratch, and that you were so tough.
You fought so hard, but his voice was fading, you felt your eyes droop before your body went limp in Deans arms.
“nono fuck” he whispered “I still need you” “Someone fucking help” he was now yelling “Castiel, some fucking angel save her”
"Why the hell did it go after her, I'm the one it should've gone after" Dean sobbed
"Dean, demons don't exactly see a grey area, there's probably something that happened on a hunt and he found that as an excuse to go after her, don't start blaming yourself" Sam told him, a few tears slipping down his cheeks.
Sobs racked Deans body as he heard the familiar flutter of wings. He was instantly yelling at the angel “fucking help her, I’m not letting her die on me”
“Dean, she’s going to be okay” Cas said and made his way over to you, placing a gentle hand on your forehead and began to heal your wounds.
You opened your eyes groggily, after your vision cleared, you were confused at the sight of the angel above you and Dean and Sam’s tear-stained faces.
You quickly pulled your shirt up to inspect where the gash had been, only to find nothing there, although your clothing was still stained with blood.
You frantically scrambled up and engulfed Dean in a hug.
“Hi sweet girl, I told you you’d be okay” he choked out
You allowed yourself to cry, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed harshly.
Deans heart sunk upon hearing your pained cries, he was already blaming himself for not intervening sooner.
After it sunk in that Cas had saved you, you whipped around to face him, his face ridden with what seemed like concern. You moved over to him to hug him, still sobbing like there was no tomorrow. blabbering out your thanks to him. He didn’t exactly understand what was happening, but he attempted to hug you back, gently wrapping his arms around you.
“You’re okay now Y/n, that’s what matters” he told you
You nodded in response, trying to stop your crying but your attempts didn’t do much, you were so overwhelmed, you were scared, thankful, and a little embarrassed by your sappy speech.
You turned back to Dean “I’m sorry for getting cheesy, I thought I was gonna kick the bucket and I needed to tell you a few things” you laughed awkwardly, still lightly crying.
He shook his head and brought you back in for a hug “I uh, feel like, me too” he struggled, wanting to tell you he loved you but he couldn’t get the words out.
“I know Dean” you nodded
You heard a siren in the distance, none of you wanted to explain the situation. Cas was gone in an instant, you, Sam and Dean were quickly making your way to the door. Dean carrying you in his arms despite your insistence that you were able to walk.
Sam drove and you sat squished next to Dean in the passenger seat.
“Sammy, I promise I’ll give you a hug when we get back to the motel” you told him, your nose stuffed up from how much you’d be crying. Sam laughed lightly in response.
Dean pulled you into him, holding onto you tightly as if you were going to slip away from him, swearing to himself to watch out for you.
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ylangelegy · 20 days ago
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unadulterated loathing! 🪄 mingyu x reader.
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madame moribble's sorcery seminar has space for only two students this semester. you're forced to make a case for yourself with the one person you despise the most: kim mingyu.
★ shiz university students!mingyu x reader. ★ smau with some fic work. word count for the fic: 2,800~ ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: modern shiz university, inspired by wicked, academic rivals, forced proximity, use of pet names, feelings realization/denial. cussing/name-calling in the spirit of bickering. this only draws from the setting of the wicked, so the given plot (i.e. wicked witch) doesn't exist here; prior knowledge of wicked is not necessary to understand the story. title is from what is this feeling. ★ footnotes: wrote this in one deranged sitting, but this is an early christmas gift for my favorite gyuldaengie, @maplegyu! 🎁 not quite the fiyero!mingyu agenda we have, but still in the same verse. ilysb. ♡
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Mingyu has spent the better half of his years in Shiz going toe to toe with you.
It's to be expected, really. The two of you are the brightest of your age, tearing through your academics with ruthless precision. He always raises his hand in class. You can recite book passages word for word.
Both of you are hard to ignore, and neither of you are about to back down.
This application for the coveted Sorcery Seminar is yet another curveball that you two must navigate. You would think that after the disastrous Life Science group work in freshman year— or the Runes incident in sophomore year— that the higher-ups would know better than to force you and Mingyu into any sort of proximity.
But Madame Morrible seems intent on getting the last laugh, and Mingyu will go down swinging, if he must.
That doesn't mean he can't have a little fun, though. He shows up at the Quad at exactly five in the afternoon, making his leisurely way towards you. Everything about him is seemingly perfect. His pressed, navy blazer. His coifed dark hair.
Even the way he carries himself— practically swaggering to where you're waiting, less-than-amused— has people making way for him.
"Why the long face?" Mingyu asks sweetly in lieu of a greeting.
Your answer is curt, bordering cold. "Nothing."
Youch. "Ice queen," Mingyu mumbles under his breath as he settles onto the bench next to you.
You shoot him a glare. He flashes you a winning smile.
This was the nature of your 'relationship', or admitted lack thereof. It was a push-and-pull of Mingyu getting on your nerves every so often, of him testing how far he can draw it out before you crack.
You had your moments, though, where you could also drive him up the metaphorical wall. Like this afternoon, for instance.
You talk over him more than once. You shoot down every single idea he proposes. And you keep shifting restlessly— prompting your knee to bump into his, your elbow to hit his ribs.
When you accidentally step on the tips of his shoes in your animated, passionate denial of his nth concept, Mingyu has had just about enough.
His hand darts out until his fingers are wrapped around your wrist. Not to bruise or control, just to draw your attention to all your exaggerated movements.
"Could you stop that?" he hisses, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "I swear to the Wizard, I'm going to come out of this meeting battered and bruised."
You coo at him in retaliation, your voice sickly sweet. "Aw, what is it? Gyu-Gyu of Gillkins can't handle a little roughhousing?"
Oh, it's like that? Mingyu lets out a derisive huff before dropping your hand. You give him the small concession of scooting a bit further down the bench, putting some much-needed distance between the two of you.
Mingyu's not about to let your little jab slide, though. "You talk big game for someone who goes running in the other direction whenever there's a spider around," he says wryly.
Your response is defensive, sending the two of you shuttling down your typical back-and-forth. "That was one time! Might I remind you that you once thought river fairies were mayflies?"
"Bringing up stuff from freshman year, huh? I vaguely recall you mixing up Bunbury and Bunnybury for years—"
"You still can't cast a half-decent Alarte Ascendare charm—"
"And your voice cracks whenever you try to hit the high note in Dear Old Shiz—"
"Okay, enough!"
Mingyu presses his lips tight in a poor attempt to hide his smirk. Your expression is positively murderous, contorted in one of sheer annoyance.
No, annoyance is too light of a word, too generous of a feeling. Your flushed face and Mingyu's jackhammer pulse are not mere products of some petty vexation, some harmless flirtation.
It's unadulterated loathing. True, deep loathing; total detestation.
You loathe Mingyu, and Mingyu loathes you.
As you pull the plug on your short-lived brainstorming session, marching off towards your dormitory with a dramatic flourish, Mingyu can't help but revel in the feeling. He feels like he just ran a damn marathon, all from spending twenty minutes of bickering with you.
Odd as it may seem, Mingyu has never felt so alive.
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Even though you don't say it, Mingyu knows you think his idea is good.
He can see it in your acquiescence, in the way you let him run his mouth just a little more. He wants to preen over getting this little upper-hand, no matter how insignificant it may be. The two of you are working on something he suggested.
You can call him all the nasty names in the book, but your begrudging acceptance is like a trophy to him.
It's why he's so cheery as the two of you reconvene to flesh out the project. You're benevolent enough to let Mingyu wax poetics about cursed objects being integral to Oz's landscape, though you keep him from rambling when he tries to position himself as the more brilliant one between the two of you.
"Don't get cocky," you warn as you lay out the material you'll be working on for the day.
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Mingyu shoots back, though he does give in and shut up for once. He's not about to push his luck. It's only half-time, after all, and he has a whole lot more of winning to do.
The two of you had agreed on flowers. For a moment, neither of you do anything about the assortment of blooms laid out on the desk in front of you. It takes Mingyu a beat too long to realize that you're looking up at him.
"What?" His free hand— the one not holding his practice wand— reaches up to his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"
The unamused glare you give him almost makes him chuckle.
"It was your idea," you point out. "So you start us off."
Ah. Mingyu knows you'll tear him a new one if he tells you the truth, which is that he didn't really think he'd get this far.
He was fully prepared for the two of you to disagree until the deadline, or to perhaps start groveling at Madame Morrible's feet for a new partner.
With this half-baked idea, though, the two of you are more likely to have to see this affair to completion.
"Right." Mingyu squares his shoulders, eyeing the flowers atop the table. "I suppose we could, er, start with some basic curses."
There's a Cheshire cat-like grin on your face that Mingyu doesn't like one bit. He steels himself for the blow, which inevitably lands in you saying, "You have no idea what we're supposed to do."
He scrunches up his nose in an expression of mock displeasure. "We're going to show off practical knowledge of enchantments," he rattles off. "Provide insight into the ethical implications of magical creations. Equip sorcerers with problem-solving skills necessitated by—"
You cut into Mingyu's tirade with a dismissive wave of your own wand.
"Blah, blah, blah," you drawl. "Ethics, insight, got it. But application? What about that, Kim?"
Mingyu has to bite back a curse from slipping past his lips. You're so infuriating. He wants to wipe that smug look off of your face, though he isn't exactly sure how he might go about that just yet.
"Maybe you want to contribute something," he grumbles, his lower lip jutting out in an almost-pout. "I already came up with the idea of the project, sweets."
Anyone else who might've been on the receiving end of Mingyu's pet names might have swooned. You always bristled, acting like he had uttered something vile.
Today, you remain perfectly unperturbed, content to have Mingyu squirm as you roll up the sleeves of your school blouse.
"Watch and weep," you say, your wand poised over the flowers.
There's nothing Mingyu hates more, really, than the reminder of just how good you are. The two of you were academic monsters to begin with, though you had your respective strengths and weaknesses. Mingyu excelled in theories; you dominated practice.
In some alternate universe, the two of you might have been an unstoppable duo. As it is, though, Mingyu can only hope that your fragile truce will hold long enough to secure you both that class slot.
He tries his darndest to keep his awe at bay as you mumble incantations. The curses you leave on the flowers seem to be mostly minor.
The daisy's leaves begin to flutter like propellers. The carnation starts to rapidly change colors. The rose goes through a constant process of wilting and rebirth, the dried petals pooling on the table with each cycle.
When Mingyu steals a glance at you, he notices the sweat beading your temples. Magic took a lot out of a person, and to cast three spells in a row was no joke.
"First, we should do a magical construction analysis." Your voice is a little tighter, a little more strained. Probably from the exhaustion. "And then a de-cursing process. Strategies and techniques for reversing or neutralizing the curse."
You go on to talk about how your demonstration for Madame Morrible should go— something about a live reversal or containment of a curse, and a detailed explanation of their findings— but Mingyu is only half-listening.
His eyes keep flitting to your quivering fingertips. His own hands twitch in his lap.
It's a sudden feeling. It's a new feeling.
Mingyu never thought he'd care for you, and yet here he is with his aborted attempt to reach out, to soothe, to comfort.
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In between piles of schoolwork and preparations for the demonstration, Mingyu hardly has any time to notice the shifts in your relationship. You don't seem any the wiser, either, which is saying something. You tended to have a better emotional quotient than his overdramatic self, anyhow.
But there are shifts. Small changes in the day to day that are imperceptible to the less-discerning eye.
The two of you remain cutthroat in the classroom, drawing your peers' ire with your relentless rivalry. Behind closed doors, though, there's something more akin to… civility?
Mingyu wouldn't dare call it friendship. He's not that naive. He just knows there's an ounce of kindness, now. Some self-imposed restraint, some begrudging respect.
As the two of you move on to executing more complicated curses, the changing dynamic bears down in the most glaring ways.
"Enough."
The word comes out as a wheeze, but Mingyu injects it with just enough authority to have you pause. You don't look any better than he does. You're folded in half, your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath.
The spell that neither of you could conjure just yet involved a hand mirror and an ancient curse. So far, all the two of you have managed is to make the mirror sing.
"Let's— take a break," Mingyu offers.
Your response is to be expected. "I don't need a break. I need to get this stupid curse right."
A muscle in Mingyu's jaw jumps. He stares down at you with a look of sheer incredulity, and you only return his glare with a defiant one of your own. Someplace else— with someone else— the electricity crackling between the two of you might have been sexual tension.
Alas, Mingyu knows it's nothing more than your shared animosity.
… Right?
He breaks the silence with a mumble of, "I need a break. Give me five minutes."
Honestly, Mingyu could keep going. He thinks he has it in him to try and cast the spell a couple more times, but he's willing to look weak if it means getting you to pause.
You don't even have a snappy retort or a smartass insult to his declaration. All you give is a jerky nod of your head before you lumber off towards the nearest chair in the otherwise-empty classroom. A peculiar expression flashes across Mingyu's face as he watches you walk, almost like every step that you take is an effort. You miss the look in favor of practically collapsing on to one of the desks.
"Wizard Almighty," Mingyu cusses lowly. He reaches your side in a couple of strides, though he pauses with his hand hovering over your shoulder.
At the last moment, he clenches his hand into a fist and draws back.
"Is this seminar class really worth dying for?" he muses, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
"I'm not— dying," you choke out. "I just need— a—"
There's an edge of exasperation in Mingyu's tone. "You need a break. It's just me. You can admit that."
Before you can shoot back, Mingyu wanders off to his backpack. He digs through it for a moment before he can procure his water bottle, which he wordlessly places onto the desk you're on.
You give a quiet sound of appreciation before uncorking the bottle and taking a long swig. The rehydration seems to invigorate you in the slightest, enough for you to straighten to your full height. Mingyu holds back on teasing you over the way you've emptied his drink.
The first words you say after you've caught your breath are "It's because it's you."
Mingyu's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He tilts his head to one side, looking every bit like the confused puppy he's often likened to. "Pardon?"
"You said— I can admit that I need a break, because it's just you." You place Mingyu's water bottle down, your hands bracing the edge of the desk as you speak. You're looking up at Mingyu, but you're not quite looking at him. It's like your gaze is fixed on something just beyond his line of sight, and it hits him that you're avoiding his gaze.
You clarify, "I didn't want to admit that I needed a break to you."
His immediate reaction is to protest. To laugh and call you stupid, to question your faulty logic. But when Mingyu's lips part, the insult at the very tip of his tongue—
He finds that his words are just out of reach.
Because, for better or for worse, he understands where you're coming from. The two of you have exploited each other's weaknesses, have poked and prodded holes into each other's defenses. Why should this be any different?
There's an inexplicable twinge in Mingyu's chest. A tangible, physical tightening, over the spot where his heart is.
He had wanted it to be different. He doesn't know why, but he thought that this might make things different.
Instead, he manages to push out a heatless, "Right. That adds up."
Neither of you say anything for a while. The five-minute break stretches into seven, then ten. Right before the fifteen-minute mark, you say, "I think we should call it a day."
Mingyu— who has spent the past quarter of an hour trying to untangle his thoughts— jumps at the suggestion.
"Definitely," he says a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah. Let's… tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow. Same time?"
"Got it."
You gather your things and begin to make your way out of the classroom. Mingyu moves a little slower, not wanting to have to prolong any conversation if the two of you were to leave together.
He thinks he'll never have an answer to the question clanging in his mind until you pause halfway out of the door.
"Kim Mingyu."
He freezes in the middle of adjusting his bag strap over his shoulder. "Hm?" he hums, trying his best to act noncommittal even though his entire posture is already defensive in nature.
The sight of it seems to amuse you, because the ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. It's not a smile that you've ever given him. He's seen it in the corner of his eye, witnessed you dole it out to underclassmen and friends. And maybe he's always been a bit envious, a bit desperate to be on the receiving end of it.
Now that he is, he feels like he just got punched in the gut.
"Thank you," you say.
Plain, simple, unadorned. No explanation. It could be grace for the water. Grace for the break. Grace for the partnership. Mingyu doesn't know, doesn't care. He'll take what you have to give.
His mind tries to conjure the perfect response, one that might have you feeling the same way that he is. No problem or you're welcome or it's just me, sunshine.
What he eventually settles on is an exhale of "Always."
He wants to kick himself for it. Who the hell says 'always' to 'thank you'? a chiding voice screams in the back of his head. What does that even mean?!
He winces outwardly. Your smile widens slightly, just enough to throw him off balance once again.
And then you're gone, your footsteps echoing down Shiz' hall, leaving Mingyu with the answer.
Mingyu loathed you in theory, but in practice? Well.
He's so caught up in trying to unpack his realization that he nearly misses the quiet ping of his phone in his pocket.
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aklaustaleteller · 7 months ago
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@ghayda0 requested via submission: Hi, please ignore if you’re not taking requests. Klaus is out all day. Literally from morning to midnight and when he comes back, Y/N is very pissed at him and giving him the silent treatment. At first Klaus’s amused by her actions, thinking Y/N is just being bratty but when she starts tearing up, maybe mid argument, he sees that’s she’s genuinely hurt. Maybe it was their anniversary or her birthday and he forgot. Can be smutty if you want to be, I mean he has to make it up somehow ;)
Entirety of Eternity
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Waiting and waiting for Klaus to return home, Y/n's grasp on reality soon slipped and she fell into a sad, sad slumber. But then Klaus finally comes back, and he doesn't know what he's done wrong -- and Y/n won't tell him. Until she does, shouting at him how the night clearly wasn't anything special to him. And now, all Klaus wants is to show her just how much she, and their relationship, truly mean to him.
Warnings - Smut and some mentions of blood.
Word Count - 3.3k
Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!
Not super proud of the way I wrote this one, but I'm pretty certain that it isn't that bad (please tell me it isn't) And thank you for requesting this -- I hope you enjoy reading it!
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Y/n was sat on one end of the dining table, her face resting in her quite sweaty palms as she waited for her ears to finally perk up at the sound of the front door to the mansion opening. But it was beginning to cross the two-hour mark and still, there was no sound.
Every once in a while, the sound of her earrings' tiny bells would chime in her ears as she'd change her position to get more comfortable. At least as comfortable as she could on a wooden chair.
A deep wine-red dress adorned her body, pooling on the ground around her feet as she sat. Delicate jewellery hung from her ears, her wrists and a dainty necklace rested just below her collarbone. Sighing defeatedly, she let her head lay atop her arms on the dining table, looking at the polished plates in front of her and then at the empty seat across from her.
Tonight was nothing special, at least not to Klaus considering the fact that he had yet to return home. But it was to her. After all, this was the day that he had turned into a hybrid himself, and then turned her into one as well – justifying it with the purpose that he just wanted to spend the rest of eternity with her.
This was just the fifth year, and already he was forgetting their anniversary.
Maybe this wasn't so special after all. But when you've got the entirety of eternity on your hands, surely you'd try and celebrate as many occasions as possible to keep things special and ...to keep their value.
The clock rang throughout the empty house, finally hitting one in the morning and he still wasn't standing across from her. And she was getting too close to doubting if he even will tonight.
And even if it wasn't so special to him, shouldn't he have listened to her when she'd so excitedly told him to return home early tonight as she'd have something special waiting for him? Wouldn't matter anymore because all the food that she'd cooked herself had gone cold, and the candles she'd set up had burned down to the wick.
The dust had begun to settle on the exposed crockery, the moon had hidden itself behind the clouds and her heart had begun wilting away inside her chest.
She didn't quite realise when her hold on reality slipped and she fell into a sad slumber, but she woke up to the feel of a hand on her arm and a soft voice coaxing her back to life.
"There you are, my darling," Klaus smiled, already kneeling beside her so he was face to face with her. "Why didn't you go to bed?"
Y/n looked at him with eyes that were screaming how could he have the guts, the audacity to ask her that and so callously pretend that he hadn't just come home past midnight despite her sweet request that went against his act.
But when her shouts fell on deaf ears, she simply turned the other way from where Klaus was sitting and stood up. "The dinner's gone cold... I'd suggest you warm it up before eating, it'd taste better," she told him as she walked up the stairs, her gaze empty but her blood heating up rapidly.
Klaus looked at her as she walked away, amusement filling him up to the brim at her antics. Yes, she'd asked him to return early but it was for no special occasion, and he'd gotten himself in a rather sticky situation, so why was she upset out of the blue?
He was even sure that she his reasoning in someone's red blood covering him from head to toe, beginning to dry up. And he wished that she'd clean him up like every other time, so he decided to eat first. Give her some time to change her clothes and get comfortable for the night before he could go over to her and ask her innocently to help him clean himself off.
So he sat and ate, his eyes closing every once in a while at the feeling of the home cooked meal filling him up with all the love he could digest.
Rinsing off his dishes, Klaus sped up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with Y/n as her lover, a frown settling itself between his brows when he caught her sitting in front of the vanity, lost in some thought as she glared at a broken lipstick.
"What's wrong, my love?" Klaus asked her, concern lacing his voice as he walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he locked his eyes with hers in the mirror.
His frown only deepened further when she didn't reply and began removing her jewellery, looking at him with big eyes trembling with fury. He didn't move, not until she was getting up and moving towards the bed, which had him following her hot on her heels.
"C'mon, it's not the right time to be a brat, sweetheart," Klaus joked, chuckling to himself but stopped when she shot him a look sharp enough to make him flinch.
"Just tell me what's happened!" Klaus insisted, kneeling in front of her and holding her hand, ignoring the fact that she didn't weave her fingers through his' and pick his hand up to press a kiss on his knuckles like she usually did.
"Where were you?" She asked, forcing her voice to be at a bay.
"Well, some newbies truly thought that they could have my head on a sword for them to take home to their master,” he chuckled. “And their plan was quite impressive, dare I say,” shrugging he said, passing her a grin which, expectedly, wasn’t reciprocated. 
“I apologise for not coming home earlier,” he sighed. But he knew that she knew that he truly wasn’t, for he didn’t even yet realise the density of this grave mistake he had made. And when she continued with her silence, Klaus finally cracked. 
“It’d not as if tonight’s anything special!”
And right then, Y/n heard something crack inside her. Possibly her dead heart. 
“I know you wanted me to return early tonight and I’m sorry that I didn’t, I truly am!” He almost whined, trying to show her how unreasonable she was being as he started pacing the room. “But this has happened before and you’ve never been this upset, so just tell me what have I done wrong!” 
He felt quite embarrassed once he was done shouting due to her lack of response, and sighed once more before walking towards her.
“It was our anniversary,” she started, quickly glancing at the clock, “yesterday.”
Klaus stopped in midst of his way to her, his heart dropping in his stomach as he finally found himself at a loss of words. His mouth moved, but nothing came out except for some incoherent stutters. 
“Forget it. It was nothing special,” she gritted through her teeth, not wanting her anger to get the best of her but she could feel it slipping out of her grasp.
“Darling – I,” Klaus stuttered, looking at the floor, wishing it’d remind him how to speak. “I’m so sorry darling,” Klaus breathed, his gaze turning doe-eyed as the realisation set in. 
“No you’re not!” Y/n shouted, getting off the bed to walk towards him. “You are not sorry, Klaus. You clearly don’t care!”
Hot tears were lined up against her lower lashline, making it hard for her to see clearly.
“You were showing that last night meant nothing to you for so long and you even said it! It was no special occasion!” She yelled, her voice shaking as her brain debated whether she was trying to convince herself about that, or him. 
And the way she was talking about their anniversary in a way that it truly had passed and that it was the next day, was only breaking his heart worse. 
“Darling our anniversary means the world to me,” he desperately said. “I’d just carelessly forgotten about it but please don’t think that it doesn’t mean anything to me,” he whispered, his eyes aching to meet with hers but she just wouldn’t let it happen, looking to the side. 
But the moment those words left  his mouth, a bitter chuckle escaped her mouth as she finally looked him in the eyes. 
“Can you hear yourself Klaus?” She asked him, shaking her head. “If it did mean anything to you, you wouldn’t have forgotten about it!” She told him, fisting her hand to prevent herself from ripping her hair out of her scalp. 
“Please let me make it up to you, darling,” Klaus begged, his own tears threatening to spill. “I’d been a bastard to do such a thing but please let me show you how much you mean to me,” his voice went meek as he lowered his head to meet her eyes. “How much this,” Klaus whispered, motioning his hand to point at her and then at himself, “means to me,” he finished, cautiously cupping her face in his rough hands. 
And he breathed in relief when she leaned into his touch, a tear rolling down her cheek. 
“I cooked us a meal, lit up candles and I only wore this dress so you could take it off,” she admitted, a tinge of pink rising on her cheeks, betraying her sadness. “And you just had to go and mess everything up,” she sighed, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around him, clinging to his torso while resting her face in the cervix of his neck, ignoring the dried blood that covered his clothes and exposed skin. 
“And I’m so sorry darling,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I swear I’ll never do something like this again,” he smiled, swaying them side to side. 
Y/n detached herself from him then, her hair a bit ruffled due to his touch. “Please don’t,” she chuckled, pressing a quick kiss on his lips before weaving their fingers together and walking towards the bathroom. 
“You better not show up some day covered in your own blood,” Y/n warned him as she sat him on the bathroom counter and wetted a towel. 
She began wiping the blood off of him with ease, having done this a million and more times by now. And she’d just wiped down his neck when she realised that he had way more blood on him that she’d expected, and some in his hair as well.
“Why don’t you just take a shower? You genuinely have blood everywhere, hell it’s even in your hair,” she laughed and didn’t wait for his answer as she went on to turn on the shower and nodded her head at him, urging him to get in already. 
“You’re not joining me, are you?” Klaus asked, teasingly and nervously. 
“You wish, don’t you?” She grinned before walking out, her ears picking up on him mumbling how she very well knew that he did. 
And Y/n had just been sitting on the bed, waiting for him when he finally walked out of the shower, in a towel that hung dangerously low on his hips. And his drenched curls stuck to his forehead while water shone off of his chiselled chest, a teasing smirk on his mouth as he looked at her while she took him in.
He began walking towards her, a certain glint in his eyes as he watched her shut off the book in her lap and place it on her bedside table. Once he stood beside her, he took her hands in his and began moving so that she’d stand up and walk with him. 
Leaning in, he hovered his mouth over hers before tilting his head slightly so that he was whispering in her ear.
“You said you’d only worn this dress so I could take it off… yes?” He asked her, beginning to sway the two of them across the room, listening in to hear her heartbeat picking up while her heavy breath fanned his neck. 
Y/n hummed in response, her eyes fluttering close when he began pressing feather light kisses up her neck. She looked at him with intrigue when he stood the both of them in front of the mirror, looking at her with the slightest smirk from behind. 
“Gonna still let me take you up on that offer, darling?” he asked, his fingers dancing across her shoulders until she nodded her head, and whispered a small yes. 
“Gonna let me show you how much truly special you are to me?” He asked again, clearly teasing her as he fingers travelled to her back. He pressed his mouth against her jaw when she nodded again, eyes still on her in the mirror as he began nipping at her skin, leaving behind the very first hickey. 
He undid the chain of the dress, letting it slump off of her torso and expose her naked breasts to him. No bra, he grinned, licking the bruising skin on her jaw as a blush creeped up on the highs of her cheeks. 
From behind, his hands slithered across her skin, from her back to now her breasts, flicking the hardened nipples as he littered love bites all over her neck. 
He made sure that while he touched her, his eyes remained locked with hers. She knew after so many years with him that he preferred eye contact during such intimate moments, that he preferred to see how much effect he had on her – how he had her at his mercy just by touch. 
“Klaus,” she breathed with pleading eyes and let her head fall against his chest as he began to force the rest of her dress to slip off of her figure. 
“Darling,” Klaus smiled, turning her around once she’d stepped out of the dress that was merely a pool on the floor now. He picked her up, bridal style and walked over to their bed, laying her on it gently unlike other times when he’d roughly toss her on it. After all, he had some apologising to do tonight.
Moving to hover above her, Klaus resumed his kisses and marks, slipping lower and lower on her body until her fingers were clutching his curls while he bit lightly on the lowest point of her stomach. 
“Stop all this teasing now, Klaus,” Y/n asked of him, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him with a rather scolding look as he looked back at her with mischievousness swimming in his eyes.
“Only because I’m truly sorry,” Klaus grinned at her, teasing her for the final time before he pressed his mouth against her aching core, licking up her hole to her clit, spreading her arousal before he could actually begin. 
Y/n’s breathing hitched and a moan escaped her mouth when she felt him increase his pace a bit. His fingers dug into the skin on her hips as he kept his hold tight on her, forcing himself as close to her pussy as he could, his nose breathing in her scent and tongue lapping up her wetness. 
“Oh Klaus,” she whined when he shifted all his attention on her clit, sucking on it until he began feeling a tremor coursing through her thighs. 
He went back to licking up her arousal then, wanting to prolong her orgasm to give her a good one instead. And his own grunts began to vibrate against her core when he began to rub against the bed, causing her arousal begin dripping down his chin. 
“You taste fucking amazing, darling,” he told her as he pushed a finger inside her with ease, quickly adding another one at the realisation of just how open and ready he’d got her dawned on him. 
Y/n mewled above him, her moans turning into louder groans as he pushed himself against her core again, flicking her clit with his tongue while pumping his fingers inside her at a fast pace. Her eyes fell shut as the knot in her belly began to move lower and lower, a pleasing and burning sensation coursing through her body, causing her to begin shaking. 
Her thighs instinctively closed shut around Klaus’ head, her hands pushing against his head to get away from him, making him increase his pace even more. 
“Klaus, please!” She cried out to him, begging for release while her back arched off the bed, her eyes flying open when Klaus detached his mouth from her, keeping his fingers at work regardless. 
“Look at me,” he breathed, her arousal smeared across his mouth, along with a couple strings connecting his mouth and her core.
And he went right back to messing with her now puffy clit once he had her eyes on him. Noises of his tongue licking her up and down began to fill the room along with the ones coming from him fingering her, and her hips stuttered to move just once more before she was crying out, trying with all her might to get away from his mouth as she grew more and more sensitive as he made her ride out her orgasm. 
Klaus finally stopped after a couple more kitten licks then, crawling back up to her to kiss her. And he had just cupped her jaw when she flipped them over, now straddling his naked hips as the towel remained lying near the foot of the bed. 
And she began lining his hardened cock against her pussy, slowly sinking down on him until he was fully inside her. She placed her hands on top of his which were situated on her waist and then she began moving up and down, increasing her pace with each jump. 
“Only because I’m forgiving you,” she lazily grinned at him, making him chuckle hoarsely.
Klaus’ hands slowly slithered up her torso then, and cupped her breasts as their bouncing in his face was going to make him reach his high embarrassingly fast. 
And when he noticed her pace slowing down, he placed his hold back on her waist to hold her in place while he thrusted up into her, fucking her well enough for her to lean forward and hover over him with her eyes clenched shut. 
“Fucking hell,” Klaus gritted as her breasts were now back in his face, bouncing so prettily that he couldn’t help but take one of her nipples in his mouth to tease her into another orgasm now. 
“Oh I’m gonna cum again,” she moaned close to his ears, and it was enough to make him slip his hand between their connected bodies and rub her clit, all while he felt himself growing closer and closer to tipping over the edge himself. 
“Give it to me darling – give it to your husband,” Klaus groaned as he felt her walls clench around him, her orgasm slipping past her entrance and onto the base of his cock, making him spill inside her with a loud moan.
Making a few more deep and hard thrusts, Klaus finally stopped, his head thrown back in pure ecstasy as Y/n laid on top of him, wrapping her arms around his torso. 
“I fear you’ll need another shower, Klaus,” Y/n giggled, laughing harder when he sped both of them into the bathroom, and turned on the shower, kissing her with a wide grin on his own mouth. 
“Please buy more dresses just for me to take them off, my love,” Klaus told her, his teasing grin turning into dropped jaw when her arse brushed against him, eliciting an even deeper moan from him when she pressed herself further into him and began peppering kisses across his chest, nipping at the skin every once in a while just to hear him hiss.
“For the entirety of eternity, yes?” She grinned, yelling in surprise when he pushed her against the wall and pressed his mouth on hers, mumbling a hoarse ‘yes’ as she wrapped her legs around his waist.   
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skywalkerslvt · 1 month ago
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Grave Desires- Leon Kennedy x AFAB reader
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❥Pairing: Leon Kennedy x AFAB reader
❥CW: smut, p in v, handjobs, crying kink, sub leon, sex in public, sex in a graveyard, 1.2k words
❥Summary: You ride Leon in a graveyard. that's it
❥a/n: thank you to everyone who voted on my post abt this fic!! hope y'all like this lil thing i wrote (i wanna fuck someone in a graveyard). btw asks are open so feel free to send requests <3 pics are from pinterest
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The graveyard was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed in from all sides. Leon followed closely behind you, his flashlight beam jittering slightly as his hand shook. He wasn’t scared, not really—at least that’s what he told himself—but the dark, looming headstones and the faint whisper of wind made his skin crawl.
“You’ve gotta stop dragging me to creepy places like this,” he muttered, his voice lower than usual.
You turned to him with a wicked grin, your eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “What, you don’t like it? Thought you were tougher than this, Kennedy.”
He scowled, his jaw tightening. “I am. It’s just… weird. Why here?”
“Why not?” you countered, taking his free hand and pulling him toward a secluded corner of the graveyard. “It’s private, it’s quiet… and no one would ever think to look for us here.”
Leon hesitated, his pulse quickening—not from fear, but from the way you looked at him, your grin sharp and teasing. He was already half-hard just from the idea that you might want to do something risky, but the location had him teetering between excitement and dread.
“You dragged me out here just to scare me, didn’t you?” he asked, trying to sound annoyed but failing as you pushed him gently against a tall headstone.
“Scare you? No, no…” You stepped closer, your body pressing against his. “I brought you here because I wanted to see if you could handle me in a place like this.”
Leon swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides. “I—”
“You want me to stop?” you asked, your voice dropping to a low purr as your fingers slid down his chest, tracing the lines of his jacket.
Leon shook his head quickly, his words catching in his throat as your hand settled over the bulge in his jeans.
“That’s what I thought,” you murmured, squeezing him gently.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his hips jerking forward instinctively.
“You’re so eager already,” you teased, popping the button on his jeans. “Did you come out here hoping I’d touch you, Leon? Hoping I’d make you feel good?”
He whimpered softly, his head falling back against the cold stone. “You— You’re driving me crazy.”
“Good,” you said, your tone laced with mischief as you slid your hand into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his cock.
Leon groaned, his hips bucking into your hand. “You’re such a fucking tease,” he managed, though the words came out breathless and needy.
“And you love it,” you shot back, stroking him slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the way his body trembled under your touch.
Leon’s breathing grew heavier, his moans spilling into the night as you worked him over. “Someone—someone could hear us,” he panted, but his hips told a different story, grinding into your hand as though he couldn’t help himself.
“Let them,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Let them hear how desperate you are for me.”
His legs wobbled slightly, his hands clinging to the headstone behind him for support as you picked up the pace. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—please, don’t stop,” he begged, his voice cracking as he teetered on the edge.
Just as the words left his mouth, your hand left his pants, leaving him hard and aching. Before he could open his mouth in protest, you pushed on his shoulder, signalling him to drop to his knees.
“On your back, and take your pants off,” you demanded, a mischievous twinkle in your eye. Leon quickly obeyed, shoving his jeans and boxers halfway down his thighs, and laying back on the cold, damp ground. You moved to straddle him, your skirt riding up slightly as you took your seat.
“You really brought me here to do this?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly as his wide, blue eyes searched your face. “You’re insane…”
“Maybe,” you replied with a teasing smirk, sliding your hands up his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall as he struggled to catch his breath. “But you came along, didn’t you?”
Leon groaned, tilting his head back against the cool stone behind him. His face was flushed, his hands twitching as if he didn’t know where to put them. You grabbed his wrists, pressing them firmly into the ground above his head.
“Keep them there,” you ordered, leaning down so your lips brushed the shell of his ear.
He whimpered, nodding quickly. “O–okay,” he stammered, his voice trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation.
You straddled his lap, feeling the heat radiating from him even through the thin barrier of your panties. Leon’s breath hitched, his hips jerking up instinctively, desperate for more contact.
“Stay still,” you warned, dragging your nails lightly down his chest.
“I can’t,” he whined, his voice cracking slightly as his hips bucked again. “Please… I need you so bad.”
Your smirk widened as you slipped your panties to the side, reaching down to guide him to your entrance. His cock was already dripping, the head flushed and aching.
“Oh, Leon,” you cooed mockingly, sinking down onto him inch by inch. “You’re so needy, aren’t you?”
Leon gasped loudly, his hands balling into fists above his head as he fought the urge to grab you. “Y-Yeah,” he admitted, his voice hitching. “Please… please move. I— I can’t take it.”
You rolled your hips slowly, savouring the way he shuddered beneath you, his whimpers filling the air. His eyes squeezed shut, and you noticed the faintest glimmer of tears clinging to his lashes.
“You’re gonna cry for me, pretty boy?” you teased, leaning forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.
He whimpered again, his hips jerking despite your earlier command. “Feels too good,” he mumbled, his voice breaking as his head tilted back, exposing the vulnerable curve of his throat. “I— I can’t…”
You ground down on him harder, drawing out a loud, broken moan that echoed through the graveyard. His tears finally spilled over, tracking down his flushed cheeks as his body tensed beneath you.
“Aw, Leon,” you whispered, leaning down to lick the salty trail from his face. “You’re such a good boy for me, letting me use you like this.”
His hands shot up despite your earlier command, gripping your hips desperately. “Please, please,” he chanted, his voice high and desperate as his fingers dug into your skin.
You picked up the pace, riding him harder, each bounce of your hips driving him closer to the edge. “You wanna finish, baby?” you asked, your tone dripping with mock sympathy.
“Yes!” he practically sobbed, his nails digging into your hips as his entire body trembled. “Please let me… please…”
With a final roll of your hips, he broke beneath you, his release tearing through him as his cries filled the still night air. You smirked down at him, his cheeks wet with tears and his chest heaving.
“Good boy,” you purred, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “You did so well for me.”
Leon’s lip quivered, his eyes hazy as he gazed up at you, completely spent but utterly satisfied. “Anything for you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but sincere.
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cirqosmos · 2 years ago
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Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?!
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2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 2
SUMMARY you — a side character in a royal novel doing absolutely nothing but enjoy your rich ass yet boring life, only watching over the female lead and doing your job in protecting her, only for a pair of kittenish eyes to fall not upon the female lead but on you, unfortunately.
AUTHOR'S NOTE not me writing a whole ass oneshot at 5am bcs of that sweet ask from that one anon, imma name u serotonin dopamine anon lmao- and jungwon bae u r truly my muse.. also inspired by sum manhwas cuz I binge read 90+ chapters in less than a day 💀💀💀 plus happy 900+ followers for me <333 mom wake up I'm famous even tho I'll never let u know what my secret writing blog is about 😊😊
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a side character, how cute?
well, you only came to know of this very horrible (not really) fact that you're nothing close to a main character's vibes cause look at you babe, where's the sparkling shiny starry dust on you as you walked through the red carpet at the ball?
and did they even spare a glance at you? unfortunately, nope. because the female lead, Liz; was your enemy, at least in how your character was written in the novel by the goddamn author which was you.
yes, that's right!
you, a hella introverted author dwelling in the deepest corner of her room doing nothing but spent an ungodly amount of hours creating the perfect and enchanting characters after crying for major character death of a fic a few years ago. wiping your dripping tears off your cheeks in a comical way as you pull open your laptop and risk your 20/20 vision for life, just so you can reverse the aching pain in your chest that you wore a thick ass glasses now.
Liz, the female lead. Swooning over her was your religion, throwing not one but a ten whole buckets explaining how perfect she was—or how tremendously kind she was, delicate and utterly sweet. patting yourself on the back for creating such a goddess of a character, so it's only wise for you to give her a fitting male lead, right? Okay we'll talk about that later since it's about you right now.
So how did you end up in your novel? Well, because of one fateful day of you doing absolutely nothing but taking a goddamn rest, and whoever the god in heaven that just randomly decided to throw you in the novel you wrote yourself—must be utterly insane. Perfect indeed!
it took you a humongous realisation to see yourself in a dark green puffy dress that represents jealousy, envy, and betrayal—which also represents the side character standing behind the female lead on the thick cover of your book. you've originally written her as that wicked best friend that uses her seductive way of speech to seduce men, and at last turning her back at the female lead by accusing her of a horrendous crime.
her fatal fate consists of her head being snapped by the guillotine, unfortunately. but for you, not really, cause you are so in for destroying wicked characters but jokes on you—you're now in the body of that character.
pfft, can't the gods put you in a character that lives near the sea, with your straw hat on and as you drank your lemon juice away from the public drama, angsty dialogues, cringe moments you yourself have created because you don't have atleast an ounce of social skills that's why you pour it all on your characters.
"oh my apologies, milady— pfft—" three ladies sticking with each other like a super glue, had thrown the glass of wine on the female lead's gown—earning a series of gasps from everyone who saw but you were sure won't pay an ounce of consideration towards her as you had written almost everyone in this novel as "the world against the weak, fragile character."
oh, right. the hyena laughters of those you describe in episode 3 of "the flashy ball"; the three evil sisters, because why not? they added the extra spices in your tongue to the point you couldn't wait for them to get slap by the female lead or possibly someone.
ah, the tremendous satisfaction.
and you were one of that person whose hands itching to smash their skull apart, you cringed enormously at them as they were the ones that brought total trouble wherever they went or whoever are unlucky enough to get in their way. unfortunately, you seal your female lead's fate with them as she need some little obstacles, doesn't she?
you as hell were not sure what you're supposed to do, whether to just let things happen as the story goes or you do the male lead's job in protecting the female lead cause you have no idea why is he taking such a long time to appear, when he should've made his grand entrance at the freaking introduction?
and you wrote it that way cause you got fed up with male leads making their first appearance at the ball, and somehow quickly gaining the female lead's heart like Cinderella cause dear lord where's the slow burn?
just say, you're a conservative grandma type of a mindset or that you are skeptical over love at first sight. yep, you're right. that's why you ain't gonna let your precious female lead get bullied in front of your very eyes. she's like your granddaughter right now, seriously.
a shriek echoed through the entire ball, gaining everyone's attention. "oh my god! my dress! you— lady Liz! who did you even brought with you?!"
oh right, you forgot it's your first time at the ball either. "my apologies, milady. it's just that i saw a bunch of hyenas roaming around.." you rubbed the back of your neck.
"hyenas?! guards—"
"chill, what's the commotion here?" a bright dashing blonde haired man in a red royal suit came around, with sets of stars dusting upon his form which you already realise to be part of the main characters but unfortunately you forgot. you ain't having that extra superhuman memory just because you are an author.
the bunch of hyenas before you reasoned with the prince, but you slowly realise that the prince was none other than Prince Jake. Inspired by that one puppy image idol from fourth generation of kpop, you were apparently slurping your noodles in the local restaurant when you watched him imitating a dog from the tv, causing you to choke on your noodles.
it's safe to say, he's hot enough that he had to be part of your main characters. aah, that signature dashing smile of his as he defended the female lead with his wisely chosen string of words which immediately melted everyone's heart at sight.
times like this you wish you were actually the female lead, but the logical side of you beg to differ; you are not emotionally capable of spewing cringy romantic words for that's only reserved for writing. So thank you, i'll pass.
Surely, Prince Jake ain't the male lead for your precious female lead but you just let them converse with each other despite her with her absolute kindness, urging you to talk with them too, atleast a word. it sort of felt for a moment like she was trying to match you with the prince.
like no please, you'd rather not to. hot guys are hot, but they're not worth the emotional investment past the fangirling section.
plus the prince doesn't seem interested you as he doesn't spare not even one look at you which obviously you couldn't care any less, you sneakily went out the ball after a series of mishaps—for example your heavy puffy ass gown with its sole purpose to only look pretty but the reality ain't that pretty to say the least, panting like a dog as you took each step towards the entrance all while cussing yourself for ignoring your logical part of brain that you shouldn't have been adding humongous useless words to describe the gown just to make it sound extremely pleasing to the readers.
now you're the one to bear the consequences of your own writing, the fuck.
"one! two!—" a long, long, depressing sigh echoes. "three! ah!—" consequently falling upon your face, what a perfect day indeed. you just wanted to go home, tuck yourself in your comforting blanket, eat your hot cup of ramen or indulge yourself in the sea of chocolate while daydreaming of your favourite idols and fictional characters.
not this awful disaster of you getting tangled in the courts' affairs.
"i suppose, you need help, milady?"
oh no, certainly not. don't call me milady, pretend i do not exist for i certainly do not have the social skills to pretend that i like you, or form a decent conversation especially with men.
"milady?"
you curled yourself, burying your head into the comfort of your gowns. wondering quite a bit of how odd you look in the middle of the hallway.
"milady?" his voice-like whisper came closer, obviously standing beside you right now. "are you okay?"
fuck it. "please, i beg of you to kindly leave me alone as my day has been utterly ruined and—" oh wait, he seems oddly familiar. those lush fluffy hair and kittenish orbs that only softens among those he were close enough.
prince jungwon.
oh! the male lead, oh my god! your jaw hang so low it fell on the ground, your eyes sparkled in dozens of star like universe as you took in his marvelous beauty that you had spent creating meticulously after studying all the '101 rules of how to create the perfect male lead that had the readers heart evaporating & a huge ass green forest that certainly would cause blazing flames'.
"oh my god! you look absolutely gorgeous, i've done it really well didn't i?! oh my god!"
"o-oh—! absolutely, you did well!" he immediately replied back, pressing his lips tight nervously.
wait what? what did he say? oh shit, oh well, covering your mouth instantly as you accidentally let it out before the prince, your precious male lead that you solely created for the female lead. "i—.."
the prince, your very precious character—obviously taken aback with a slight blush dusting of his adorable cheeks as he raise his fist up to his lips, coughing a couple of seconds. a personality trait you very well are familiar of cause that's how you wrote him when he fall in love with the female lead.
your eyes ogled out at that familiar sight, screaming at the back of your mind—wait, wait! you're not supposed to fall in love with me, you idiot! go back! go inside the ball, she's inside there!
"that's oddly brave of you, milady. i'd certainly go as far as to say that i've never seen such traits from a lady." kitten eyes softening at you, crouching down as he lend both of his hands for you. you raised your eyebrow confusingly at what is he trying to pull at but you realise he was intending to get you up.
"u-uhm? uh, sorry. i could get up on my own, actually." yeah, that's what you did. pushing yourself back up despite his protests because you ain't gonna let him fall any further for you, nah uh, not in this life, your mission is to get him and your female lead together inside the frames of birds holding flower wreaths as they went on to their happily ever after.
not with you!
"may i have the honour to know your name, though, milady?" why the fuck isn't he leaving, what is there so interesting in you that he is still standing here asking you such generic questions.
you shouldn't be having the characters attention on you as you obviously wrote it that way, and that even though your character in the novel had tried to get the prince's heart, despite resorting to foul actions, that he never truly had been attracted to her despite this characters' seductive aura.
for you squealed so loud at the scene you wrote, with jungwon putting her in her place. "you are not her, and you would never be her." along with the bunch of your readers hosting a flamboyant celebration under the comments, screaming over how loyal he was.
so what in the actual fuck is this?
"you don't need my name." you nonchalantly answered.
"my apologies?"
"you see, my best friend is in the ball—" you gestured your hands to the entrance of the ballroom, "and she needs your help more than i do."
"wait? why would she need my help?" his eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion as you pushed him through his back.
"of course, she do! don't ask anything!"
"wait!— my name is!" he forcefully turn to face you again, but you immediately covered his mouth with your hands—kabedonning him against the wall.
an excruciating silence occured between you two in the silent hallway, Jungwon freezing to his core when your other hand shoot beside his head.
"listen i don't need your name, dear sir." you emphasise each word, you certainly don't need to know his name nor his status as a prince, not wanting to risk any possible connection with him judging by how he acted before you just now.
"b-but!" his words were muffled into the void as you cupped his mouth tighter.
"shh, shh. stop talking and listen, will you?!"
jungwon nodded slowly, what an odd situation he was in right now, he thought. but somehow he likes it.
"so first step, is go inside the ballroom. second, look for the lady in pink gown, and third—"
"t-third?"
"third is tell her your name! my best friend needs it more than i do!" you release him from your grasp as you went to swing open the huge double door, "now go!" waving a goodbye before kicking his body through the entrance, pulling the door back with your entire strength despite his protests.
oh of course, you finally let out a gag after suppressing it in front of him the entire time as you've never had a proper conversation with a male without stuttering, somewhat a sad tragedy for you, unfortunately. you felt quite guilty about your readers who swoon over the romances you wrote between your leads, weeping over how you're so good at it—not knowing you're a complete introvert with only a gigantic ass dictionary with you.
finally, the male lead and female lead's romances are about to start! you squealed with your hands clasping as you went on your way to the carriage, gesturing for the rider to embark on the way to your heavenly puffy manor with the widest big grin ever that it had him questioning you, "has any gentleman had caught your heart, milady? a couple of hours ago, you were often beyond distraught to attend the ball but insisted when you heard Lady Liz was going."
"oh, you silly." you giggled as you swayed your hand, "of course, that's one of the reasons. but there's another one.."
"may i ask what is it, then?"
you leaned in closer, urging him to get closer as you whispered. "i got the chance to become a Cupid!"
"a Cupid?" you squealed before the old man, hopping like a child for quite awhile before flying into the carriage much to his surprise, but only shook his head in amusement—appalled by how his mistress had changed so much.
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"so?" you couldn't help yourself from pulling out the widest eccentric grin at the female lead, extremely curious and ecstatic over what romances had bloom between her and Jungwon.
Liz raises her eyebrow in confusion, "so?.. what do you mean, milady?"
you shrugged, falling back to your seat as you raise your eyebrow in a comical way, "that.." whispering ever so seductively, "prince."
"p-prince?
"yes!" the teacup rattles at your excitement oozing so much that you tapped the table a couple of times. "what happen? what's the tea~"
she lets out a soft giggle, a bit amused by your excitement. "i have no idea what you're trying to imply, milady."
"wait? what are you saying? didn't the prince went to you last night?"
Liz shook her head slowly, her expressions clearly stating that she absolutely don't know what and who you were talking about as a smile pulled up on her lips once again, taking a few sip from her teacup.
veins popped out from your neck as it dawned on you, your head snapped towards the castle on top of the mountain, you stupid of a prince! you cussed at him endlessly at the back of your mind, tightening your fist as your ears and nose fuming in anger. how dare he? he didn't listen to you at all? what in the actual fuck? would this somehow divert the original route? a dozen question arise into your mind one after another, causing you to let out an exaggerated sigh.
facepalming yourself as you imagined the imaginary heavenly light on top of you, weeping to yourself about how tremendously unlucky you are to have a hard headed male lead. it's impossible, you have never added a trait so irritating like this in his profile so how could this happen?
"milady?" the gentle voice of your precious female lead pulled you out of your inner desperation, you leaned in closer, whining so much over how unlucky you were and such, the rest only being in your mind as you pouted.
"ah, i remember now, the prince—"
"WHAT?—" you immediately seated yourself after giving her a potential heart attack, "my apologies, what did you actually.. remember?"
"i assume you were talking about the prince from yesterday? prince jake?"
"no not that bitch— oh certainly not him, ehem.." you took a couple of exaggerated coughs, avoiding her evident confusion. "isn't there a prince.. name jungwon with you that night?"
"oh my goodness! right! prince jungwon!" she shook her head in disbelief with her finger on her head.
right, how did you even forgot that the female lead in front of you had a "weak ass memory" in her profile description. tsk tsk, truly a forgetful author you are. you should be trying your best to remember the things you wrote before and revise it as best as you can, to avoid any possible problems in the future, atleast.
"right, how did i even forget, the prince asked me for your name, milady—"
"huh?" you look at her with confusion, as you were out of reality a couple of seconds ago. your orbs terribly widened as her words slowly sinking in to your brain. "HUH?"
ask your name?! why your name, why not hers?! what did the prince ate that night before stumbling onto your way that he had to ask for your name before the female lead—his own lover?!
laughing awkwardly, you raise your leg on top of another as you nervously swayed your hands repeatedly. "oh dear, oh dear. you might have heard it wrong, the prince?—" snorting outloud as you gestured to yourself, "asking for my name? what a funny news!"
"i didn't, milady. the prince came to me and asked me for your name, as he was immensely curious of who you are so i—"
"so what?—" you can't believe this, you really can't bring yourself to believe any words she was uttering. you should have been bestowed by the news that the prince had taken an interest in her, a hand in marriage, or anything, anything as long as you're out of the picture! "y-you didn't tell him my name, d-didn't you?"
"of course, i did!" exclaimed she did with the widest grin ever.
why are you so freaking happy over this?! clasping your head in your hands as you tragically fall on your knees causing the lady to gasp in shock, ushering to your side to get you up.
"milady?! what's wrong?"
"d-dear," you pouted as you look up to her, "you didn't tell him where my manor's at, r-right?"
she simply replied, "i did? the prince informed me that he's going to send a letter for you to be his partner to the ball."
an imaginary arrow struck back to your heart, forming a humongous hole that threatens to give you a panic attack. what? what in the actual fuck? did you accidentally did something to divert the original story you yourself created? but you didn't even do anything! you tried to do your best to keep the interaction with him as short as possible and he dared to take an interest in you?!
"milady, a letter from the royal palace had arrived for you."
"discard it. throw it. keep it away from my sight."
"milady?!" Liz and the head of the maid exclaimed in utter shock at your nonchalant answer.
"forget about it, forget about it." you clasped your forehead in utter disappointment, yet your brain were creating another plan b for this unexpected turn of events. what should you do? even more so, what would you do now that the prince had asked for you to be by his side to the ballroom?
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this won't do, you won't let this happen—you had to look as unattractive and ugly as possible for him to cringe on and finally divert his attention back to the rightfully person who deserved it; the female lead.
your maids could only fall apart every single time you pluck out the enchanting gems they attached on your hair, ears and wrists. their efforts deemed futile as always as you had no mood for any sort of events, it was like a slap to their face as you initially weren't like this. you overheard them that they couldn't get used to how you were adamant in staying behind the spotlight as you often did your very best in dressing yourself up before, with the sole intention of gaining the favour of men and even more better, a prince.
of course, they are totally oblivious to your real identity. only a series of jaw gaping one after another with your change of character, at first—you had a dilemma over whether you should act like the character you created but you later scrap the idea as soon as the anxiety of being engulfed in the crowd suffocated your chest. opting to avoid as many as balls or public events as possible, but that obviously didn't work out that well since you heard of the female lead's arrival from the country side—just like you intended it to be.
and being the proud mother (writer) you are, of course why wouldn't you take one single look at her and see of how far she had came? but alas, one interaction leads to another one and so on—till finally, you became her best friend throughout her entire journey. waiting for the male lead's arrival, and watch their romances blooming and per se—but oh well, look at the situation you were in right now; total disaster.
you truly despise being in such an extravagant puffy gown and the numerous accessories hugging your skin, it's tremendously uncomfortable that you wanted to rip it off part in front of the prince standing before you right now, and right here.
asking for your hand to dance with that odd kittenish smile, that you swore you had never ever written in his personality profile; he should never have been this casual and chill over a person he had just met. he should've been cold as fuck, icy to touch, and a spiralling disaster if you dare to talk to him, so why?
plus how could he have taken an interest in you? you couldn't possibly have added a dose of the love at first sight trope, didn't you? you despised that trope to your very core.
"milady? may i?" he extended his hand before you, patiently waiting for your answer.
you had decided that you're going to reject him quick and efficient—just like the local fast food restaurant your mouth kept drooling over for, smashing a five star review for their inhuman speedy delivery.
"you see, prince jungwon. i have no desire to have a connection with you, a relationship, as a matter of fact."
he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by your bold words. "i'm curious milady, why so? have i done something that perhaps had annoyed you?"
cliché question, you loathe that. "what if i said you did?"
"then tell me, milady. i'll try my hardest to own up to you—" he took a steps forward, which causes you to immediately step back as well with a frown on your face. you can't, not in this life, to even give him a single chance to get close to you. nah uh.
"no need, and stay one meter apart, please." you pointed your index finger towards the floor and he hesitated, but complied immediately.
"i." you raise your index finger back to yourself and then at him, "don't like you. do you understand?"
"b-but?"
"stop questioning me, prince jungwon." you stayed firm in your spot, "i believe it's a common decency to step back when a lady had voiced out her opinion, a prince like you certainly would understand, am i right?"
Jungwon was clearly taken aback, the fact that you didn't give him a single chance to utter a word nor take a step closer was a hard punch to his face. It feels as if he was trying to reach for you, but you efficiently dodged it with ease. It kind of.. annoys him.
"base on how you didn't say anything anymore, i assumed we're done here! well then, goodbye prince jungwon." you turned your heels towards the entrance, not bothering to waste any time at this goddamn ball. "i hope this will be the very last." you scoffed inside your mind, eager for the story to return to it's original route, and that the prince would soon deem you useless and such—returning to the female lead's arms.
hm, now where's your precious female lead? she should've appeared right now and right here, strike the pot while it's hot!
"i'm afraid i can't back down that easily, milady." jungwon took a few steps forward, wrapping his hand round your wrist as he spun you around to face his eyes filled with blazing determination. one that you specifically added on top of his profile so that your readers would kept it in mind.
your breath hitched down your throat as you remembered there's only two reasons he could have this; one that reminds you when he was at war, shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his soldiers as they push through the enemies, and another reason of it appearing is when he have to get what he wanted, or else all hell will break loose, chaos will ensue.
right, you're truly an idiot. staying a few years in this novel without any memories, and only for it to surface back when you stumble upon the library—dozens of books flickering a series of eccentric images in your mind. It had cause you to lose all memories of important details, only emerging everytime you are presented with a situation you couldn't comprehend. such as when you forgot that the female lead had memory problems and such.
"i'll only present this choices to you, milady. since you tremendously intrigued me over how well spoken you were and fascinating indeed—" bitch, you don't even know how you had the sudden ability to confront him but you were just sure as hell that you don't want to ruin your own novel. no fucking way.
you can't let him have the upper hand on you.
"let me go." irritated to your core, you tried untangle Jungwon's tight grasp on your wrist but he won't budge even an inch which only had you fuming in anger. "i said let me go, bitch!"
the crowd emits a series of gasps and murmurs as you spun around—twisting the prince's arms which had him yelping in pain, and ultimately pinning him onto the ground. with rage consuming you that nothing was going in your way, you slammed your hands on the both side of his head. clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth as you emphasised each word. "you are one a dumb hell of a bitch, when i said i do not want to see you anymore. i mean it. so—"
"so what?" his smug look resurfaces, one that emerges whenever he was being challenged. yes, do that! he should despise you, not take an interest in you! he should loathe you so much that he can't even gaze at you for a second. excitement surged through your veins as you open your mouth, preparing for the last blow.
"so, get lost. just because you're a prince doesn't mean every girl would fall for you, idiot."
an even more louder gasp emits from the crowd as they clearly heard what you said, their jaw gaping and some covering their mouths with their hands as their mind are now bombarded with random questions over how exceedingly brave you are to insult the royal prince, and of what fate will you met now that you've done such an atrocious act.
a low giggle sent shivers down your spine, and goosebumps to riled over your neck as you realise the prince under you had the widest smirk on his face. you frowned deeply, he shouldn't be smirking! he should be fuming in anger and throwing you out of the palace at this moment. so why?!...
"oh milady, how truly fascinating you are." you let out a loud yelp when he grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you closer to his face—a dangerous close proximity against his fluttering eyelashes and lips that your breath caught up in your throat which causes your cheeks to heated up in embarrassment of what kind of position you two were in right now. "i like you, you would certainly be a perfect fit to be by my side."
"what?!" you exclaimed, jaws dropping and eyes about to pop out at his very words. "i don't want to be by your side—"
"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." Jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."
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milswrites · 9 months ago
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Stubborn Little Fox
~ Eris Vanserra X Reader
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Summary: Eris struggles to look after his stubborn mate when you are sick.
Warnings: Poorly reader but it’s pretty much fluff. Maybe some suggestiveness.
Notes: Just a silly little fic to tide you over until I finish the angst I’m writing. Dedicated to @sarawritestories who wrote me this exact scenario in an attempt to get me to stop writing and go to bed 😌
Your bed was empty.
Again. 
The wrinkled covers pulled back to reveal the bare sheets of where you had once laid, where Eris was supposed find you soundly sleeping upon entering the room.
The Autumn Prince cursed lowly under his breath, knuckles turning white with frustration as he tightly gripped onto the tray of food he had prepared for you.
It was easier to control his hounds - Eris thought as he carefully placed the tray down on the edge of the bed, lest he toss its contents onto the floor in his anger.
Eris was used to completing impossible jobs, and yet nothing has been more difficult than trying to wrangle his sick mate and convince you to sleep away your illness. Your inability to sit still making caring for you harder than Eris had initially anticipated.
He needn’t try too hard to find you, a swift wander down the hall and to his office was all Eris needed to walk before he opened the door to find your sickly form hunched over his desk with a pen in hand. Scribbling away at whatever documents had been left for you once you had recovered.
It was impossible to stop the exasperated sigh which fell from his lips as he took in the paleness of your face and the worrying sheen of sweat which had coated it.
“And why, pray tell me, aren’t you in bed where you’re supposed to be Little Fox?” Eris snarled, all comfort forgotten as he once more found himself trying to coax you back towards your bed.
With shaking hands you reluctantly place your pen down, guilty eyes meeting the burning stare of your mates unforgiving glare. “I’ve got work to finish!” You defend, gesturing to the stack of paperwork which had only grown during your absence from your job.
At your excuse, the red-haired male inhaled deeply, a disbelieving hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. And it wasn’t until Eris exhaled his frustrations that he allowed himself to reply as softly as he could, “work can wait until you’re feeling better.”
“It can’t,” you reason, a disappointed sigh drawing from your sickly lips, “I’m far enough behind as it is. Another day without work and I’ll never be able to catch up. Besides, I’m fine. I feel much better now.”
Whilst Eris prided himself on holding back the roll of his eyes which threatened to occur, he failed to stop the raise of his brow as you proceeded to burst into a fit of coughs after your weak-willed reassurances.
“All better?” He mused, a small smirk finding its home on his lips as he watched you pitifully try to compose yourself. Innocent eyes meeting his own as your incessant coughing eventually came to a halt.
“I have to say Little Fox, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you like going against my orders” Eris chided, slowly walking towards you as he spoke. Each step forward drawing you deeper into his hypnotic trance. “Would I be correct in assuming you keep leaving your bed because you want me to scold you?” He asks teasingly, bringing his face down to meet yours, until his playful eyes were level with your own.
“I can’t say I’d hate it if you had to take care of me” you replied honestly, unable to help the way your gaze drifted towards your mates slightly parted lips.
“Is that not what I’ve been doing all this time?” Eris feigns hurt which fails to read through his wicked smile, “Taking care of my mate?”
“I can think of a few more ways I’d like to be taken care of” you answer, hoping to be seductive but ultimately failing as another round of coughs wrack your chest.
“Later” Eris chuckled, his strong arms coming to lift you from where you were sat, “for now you need sleep.”
You furrow your brows in protest, opening your mouth to argue with your mate before he beat you to it. Eris’s soothing voice acting to calm you, “Don’t worry, I’m going to have to cuddle you just to make sure you don’t run off anywhere else.”
Eris’s warm lips came to meet your aching forehead, his kiss already working to dissipate the uncomfortable pulsating of your sore temples. Your mates healing touch enough to already have you drifting off in his comforting embrace.
“My stubborn Little Fox,” he uttered as he began to move back towards the bedroom which you shared, cradling you close to his body in hope that the heat which he emitted would soothe your aching joints, “you better feel well again soon, I’ll be waiting to deliver your punishment for disobeying me.”
You hum happily in response, nuzzling your face into his warm chest to hide your smirk of anticipation, “I’m looking forward to it, My Prince.”
It was only once you woke, when your fever had broken and the ache in your muscles had quelled, that you noticed that Eris was no longer holding you. That it was his turn to escape the comfortable confines of your sheets which had now grown cold in his absence.
Stepping out from the warmth of your covers, you walked barefoot across the cold wooden floors. Seeking the ever-lasting warmth of your mate. You followed the call, moving through the hall until you found yourself outside his office, the strong scent of crackling wood and chestnuts enough to tell you the male was waiting inside.
Cracking open the door you peered inside, noting the way Eris was slumped over the freshly inked papers you had saved to work on when your health had improved.
Your mate - your selfless, loving mate - had completed them all. No doubt seeking to ease your worries and provide you with the extra hours of rest you would no doubt need once you had woken.
Quietly pulling the door to, you move to the kitchen to prepare your love a warming tea. Because as much as Eris longed to take care of those he loved so dearly, sometimes what he needed was for someone to take care of him in return.
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eye-f0r-an-eye · 9 months ago
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vessel's pre-venue jitters [nsfw - gn!reader]
-had to pause writing my lewis fic cause i listen to sleep token while i write and had a wicked idea pop into my head. now i can't stop thinking about vessel having mad anxiety before a show and the reader, who's also in the band, helping him calm down-
(i did not plan this out, i wrote it all on the spot, i just needed to get this out of my brain - i'm still prioritising my lewis fic)
word count: 887
cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!vessel, dom!reader, oral sex (m!recieving), reader's anatomy is not mentioned, no use of y/n, first fic posted! - author doesn't know what else to put here????
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god i want him to mount me like thatfjsgtrwdsgvfyuiuh
you were a part of the band and served as a second guitarist next to iv, and you were always quite close to vessel - in ways that the others would always tease you about. although, you kept assuring them that there was nothing between you both, even when you used little petnames with each other.
you were searching for vessel right before a show to seek validation for a quirky idea you had about a little something you could do on stage. you never made rash decisions on the spot for fear you'd mess up the performance, very unlike the others.
you find vessel, still in one of the dressing rooms behind stage rather than getting ready to go out and perform.
you then notice that he's facing away from and has got his head against the wall, muttering small things to himself, and shaking slightly.
you approach to ask him what's wrong, to which he jumps a little, clearly not expecting you of all people to find him here.
"just... gimme a minute... get out there, i'll follow later..."
you're not having it. you make him sit down and notice the light sheen of sweat on his neck, which is already testing the integrity of the black body paint coating his skin. and he hasn't even done all his little dancey dances yet!
you ask him again what's up with him, kneeling down in front of him to appear less intimidating. he simply sighs. his shaky hands reach for yours, searching for that anchor to ground himself.
"just a bit nervous, love..." he mumbled as his hands interlocked with yours. "dunno why..."
you do your best to comfort him but none of your words seem to work, he always has a negative thought step in and frustratingly deflect your consolation with it's iron shield of self-deprecation.
as the time ticks quickly and you've now likely just less than 10 minutes before you have to go out on stage, and you definitely can't let him go out there like this. you need to release his tension somehow.
it's in this moment when you abandon your value of not making rash, on-the-spot decisions.
you slip your hands out from his, roll your mask up just above your nose, and begin make quick work of his belt, which ultimately made him panic a bit more.
"shit- w-what are you doing?!" he tried to stop you, but you simply swatted his hands away and began to shimmy his pants down his thighs.
you shushed him, telling him to just lay back and focus on the sensations. you assured him that you'd ease his nerves.
was it his fault that he trusted you?
he definitely goes commando under the costume, fucking fight me, i will die on this hill. he's also like 7-8 inches, yet you still believe you can take him all when you watch the length of it roll out like a red carpet.
you feasted on both his fat cock and the little moans you illicit out of him with stripe you lick up his long shaft, enticed as you witness him go from soft to rock hard after mere moments of you touching him.
your hand rested on his thigh while your other was tenderly fondling his balls as you suckled on his swollen, leaky tip. it was a struggle for him to keep quiet, who knows who could be lurking outside the unlocked door of the dressing room.
he could probably pass it off as him practicing his vocals should anyone have heard him.
his hand came up to nest on top of your head, gripping at the fabric of your mask as you slowly begin to take an inch of him into your mouth.
he struggles not to buck up and fuck the ever-living shit out of your throat.
you make quick work of him, taking as much of him in as you can, wasting no time in sucking him off. he softly whimpers out your name.
he finishes quickly with a loud stifled moan, you made it hard for him not to when you're bobbing up and down on his length like that, your tongue flattened, and your cheeks hollowed to optimise his pleasure.
he shoots his fat load deep down your throat, you swallow it all gratefully. your mouth pops off his cock, which is beginning to soften as he pants. he's certainly a lot calmer now.
however, he doesn't know if he could look at you the same while performing without getting hard again.
you may have eased his nerves but what have you done to his mind?
he tucks himself back into his pants, you pull your mask back down over the bottom half of your face, and you both leave the dressing room without uttering any words to each other.
vessel has a bit of a haze clouding his head while you regroup with the rest of the band, who are definitely smirking at you both for being gone until last second.
"you two snogging back there, or what?" iii teased you, making ii and iv giggle.
vessel was a little embarrassed, but he ignored it, finding comfort in the fact that they didn't exactly know what it was that you two were doing.
you simply told them to get fucked as you all began to flood onto stage.
hey, hoped you enjoyed this! i haven't read it over, i wrote it all on the spot and am now posting it. please let me know if you have any icks or recommendations on how to make this better!
thank you for reading!
-leo :3
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johnwickb1tsch · 6 months ago
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~ Enigmatic Stranger ~ Part 3 WIP
a young!John Wick x fem!Reader roundrobin fic… by @sweetwolfcupcake , @treedaddymcpuffpuff , & @johnwickb1tsch
part 1 part 2
What's your name?
“Guess.” 
“I’m not playing the Rumplestiltskin game with you.” 
He chuckles at that. “I guess you could call me…E.S.” 
Enigmatic Stranger. Like you’d called him in the poem you wrote. He hadn’t even made fun of you for that. He’d smiled at you in the café. A small smile, filled with…sadness? And maybe…regret. 
“You’re quite the poet,” he’d told you quietly, sliding your notebook back to you across the counter. 
You’d just stared like a starstruck little idiot, still utterly mortified that he’d read your private words, no matter what praise he offered you. “You shouldn’t do that,” you’d managed to get out past the lump in your throat, your words like sandpaper. “Read other people’s things. That wasn’t meant for you.”
“Why not? It was about me, wasn’t it?”
You swipe at your stinging eyes, feeling ridiculous, and small, and you wish he would just go away, with those midnight-dark eyes that manage to look right through you. You wished he’d stop showing up like this, and making you feel things that would never come to anything. This is what men do to you. They make you feel too much, and then it’s your fault, somehow, when they disappoint you.  
He’d pressed his lips, seemingly feeling guilty about it all. “Hey. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He’d reached for your hand, brushing your fingertips before you jerked away, as though he’d burned you. 
“Stop playing games with me,” you whimper, looking down into your cup of now cold chocolate. “Please, just go.” 
He had, without another word, just a kicked puppy dog look over his shoulder. You didn’t allow yourself to believe that look in his eyes was longing.
But now…he’s here, in your apartment again. 
“John.” 
You blink. John. Just like that…this man who has been haunting you has a name. A nice, normal name. It’s almost too simple.  
“Well, John. You should go.” 
He smirks at you, standing slowly. “If you want. Lock that door, y/n.”
***
Maybe it made a difference, locking the window, and the door. Because when they finally strike, it’s on the street, in the alley near your apartment. Two goons try to grab you, but John is there like a whirlwind, breaking limbs, knocking heads. You have never seen anything like it. Not even in an action movie. The carnage is unreal. 
“Are you alright, y/n?” John demands, rushing over to you. 
You are sinking down with his strong arms around you, your vision swimming. There is blood on his handsome face–and a needle still sticking out of your arm. The fact that you’re only vaguely alarmed about this, about all of this, doesn’t bode well. 
“I’m fine,” you say, and that’s when the pinhole of your vision fades to black.
@sweetwolfcupcake @treedaddymcpuffpuff 😘😘😘
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koqabear · 1 year ago
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Addicted To You
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♡ continuation of Take It! but can be read as a stand-alone.
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“It’s been three weeks since you’ve seen either Beomgyu or Taehyun, away for a business trip like always— after three weeks without seeing them, they’re eager to show you how much they missed you.”
beomgyu x fem!reader x taehyun
Genre: fluff, smut, porn with no plot. at all. 
Word count 4.7K
warnings: barely edited, poly relationship but no mxm…they’re chaebols for those who don’t know, gyu is kinda bratty, it’s literally just smut
smut warnings: dom!tae, dom!beomgyu, sub!mc, threesome, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, pet names, (baby, pretty, sweetheart, etc.) dry humping, marking, praise, degrading, manhandling, breast play, mocking, exhibitionism, oral (f & m rec.) slight masturbation, handjob, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, (m. rec) slight dumbification, mentions of safe word, dacryphilia, creampies, aftercare (lmk if i should add anything!)
Notes: didn’t rlly think i’d commit to this, but take it holds a silly little place in my heart bc it was the first fic to help me gain traction on my dying blog 😭 (no, there were no other reasons as to why i wrote this tf) 
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Study sessions with Taehyun usually go well— he’s a great teacher, and is able to guide you through even the hardest concepts with ease; usually, you end study sessions with no energy at all, more than ready to sink into your bed with your arms wrapped tightly around him. 
Usually, you don’t find yourself where you are now— on top of him, your fingers threaded into his hair as you tug him closer to you. 
“Thought you were tired?” He teases, fully enjoying the way you grind against him, needy and reckless as you simply whine at his comment, “What happened to just cuddling, sweetheart?”
“Does it look like I’m in the mood to just cuddle?” you mock, pulling away from his addicting lips with a frown— he simply laughs, playing along as he sends you an innocent look— though there’s nothing innocent about the way his hands are splayed across the small of your back, encouraging the soft rock of your hips by keeping you pressed firmly onto him, “I haven’t seen you in weeks, missed you so much.”
Taehyun’s smile grows wicked; there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans forward to place sultry kisses on your neck, plump lips sucking and biting teasingly as he litters marks on any skin that’s left accessible to him. 
“You missed me, pretty? How much?” he teases, mumbling the words against your neck as his hands slip under your shirt, fingers wandering as he feels the way you practically melt at his touch. The small whimper you let out isn’t lost on him as he bucks his hips up into you, prompting you to answer him with a soft bite to the sensitive spot on your neck. 
“So much. So so much,” you ramble, unable to stop your desperate movements as you grind into him, able to feel the way his cock is already hard and pressed perfectly against you, biting your lip in a pathetic attempt to suppress your sounds, “Couldn’t even call you while you away, you were so busy.”
“Wow, I can’t believe this,” you immediately freeze at the sound of the voice— your eyes are wide open as you turn around in Taehyun’s grasp, mouth agape as you realize that you didn’t even notice the bedroom door opening, much less hear Beomgyu come in as he sits comfortably on the chair in the corner, arms crossed and expression unamused as he narrows his eyes at you. 
“Is he the only one to get a warm welcome?” he pouts, shining eyes almost fooling you into thinking he’s seconds away from tearing up, “You didn’t miss me?”
“Gyu,” you gape, untangling yourself from Taehyun as you attempt to go to him immediately— only to be pulled back by Taehyun, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he presses you flush against him, chin slotting itself on your shoulder as he laughs at the whine you let out, “I thought you weren’t supposed to be here until next week.”
“I wanted to surprise you,” he admits, leaning back in the chair as he lets out a soft tsk, taking in the way Taehyun continues his assault on your neck— you’re weak to his touches as you let out soft gasps, squirming in his grip and inevitably grinding harder against him as a result, “Though it seems you’re busy— I’ll get going then.”
“Beomgyu, ah, wait,” your voice is whiny and pathetic as you call out to him, stopping him in his tracks as he glances back at you— he takes in the way you reach out toward him helplessly, eyes darkening at the way Taehyun continues to hold you close, not planning to let you go soon as his eyes flicker up; they meet Beomgyu’s, and he’s unable to hold back his sly smile as his hands wander under your shirt, pushing it up and exposing your chest before he’s expertly playing with your breasts— the way you cry out from his touches and place your hands on his forearms is amusing, and Beomgyu is quick to catch onto Taehyun’s intentions as he simply huffs out a soft laugh. 
“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, tilting his head as he goes to stand before you— just out of reach, your attempts to grab onto him and tug him closer futile as you simply look up at him with teary eyes, whimpering softly at the way Taehyun begins to rut up into you, “Isn’t Tyunnie enough for you?” 
The nickname has Taehyun rolling his eyes— Beomgyu’s wicked smile of amusement only makes Taehyun more irritated, even more so when you begin protesting that you want him, too.
“It’s not that,” you say, struggling to utter a coherent sentence from the way Taehyun continues to stimulate you, your brain turned to mush from his touch alone, “Just missed you… want you, missed both of you s’much…”
Both men are laughing at your state— your fucked out expression and bruised lips from Taehyun’s harsh bites is enough to have them hooked, and Beomgyu has to take a deep breath in order to keep his hands off you. 
“Our sweet girl,” Taehyun hums, kissing your cheek fondly, a stark contrast to the way he continues to stimulate you, expert fingers tweaking at your nipples while he continues to roll his hips up into you; you don’t seem to notice the moment one of his hands begins to slide down coyly, slipping under your shorts and rubbing your clit teasingly over your panties— you both hiss at the feeling, and Taehyun bites his lips at the feeling of you completely soaking your underwear, “Why don’t you show Gyu how much you missed us, hmm?”
You’re nodding immediately; your hips are canting at his touch, and you can’t seem to get your eyes off Beomgyu, who simply takes you in with hungry eyes, stepping closer in order to cup your cheek, leaning down until his hips are hovering over yours.
“Still such a greedy thing, aren’t you?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper as you simply cry at his words. It’s all too much for you— Taehyun’s body against yours, his soft huffs against your skin, his wandering lips and hands that don’t detach themselves from your body for even a moment— and Beomgyu’s soft hand that caresses your face fondly, staring at you with such pity in his eyes you can’t help but feel small under his gaze, “Can’t even help yourself from touching us the moment we come back to you.”
You don’t bother to refute his claims— because it’s all true, and you don’t bother to feel an ounce of shame from it, not when the two men before you can’t seem to get away from you for a second, either. 
“Are you gonna cum?” Beomgyu asks, taking in the way your movements grow frantic, your mouth slightly agape and letting out streams of moans that only worsen from his question, “So close already? Come on baby, show me how much you missed us.”
Beomgyu’s lips are soft and hungry the moment they crash against yours— he’s held back long enough, unable to control his need to feel you panting and moaning against his lips the second you crash down from your high— your frantic hands grip Beomgyu’s perfectly pressed dress shirt tightly, though he couldn’t care less about it, not when you’re pulling him toward you desperately and kissing him as though you haven’t seen him in years. 
“Shit…” Taehyun groans, fingers drifting down to your clothed slit, face buried into your neck as he laughs breathily— you jolt against him as you feel his middle and ring finger run along your cunt teasingly, feeling your panties stick to you and pressing against your entrance to feel how wet you are— you’re whining softly in embarrassment, though you can’t control the shocks of pleasure that still jolt through you, pulling away from Beomgyu’s lips to burrow into his chest from the sensitivity. 
“She’s so wet,” Taehyun smiles, raising his head to meet Beomgyu’s— the two men feel weak to the way you grow flustered at their words, still shy as ever as you mumble incoherently into Beomgyu’s chest— Taehyun’s hold on you grows slack, but you don’t bother to stand up, still able to feel the way his hard cock throbs against you, weak to the feeling of him under you. 
“Poor thing,” Beomgyu coos, rubbing your back in a way that’s more patronizing than soothing, “Guess we left you alone for too long, hmm? Can’t last this long without us, is that it?” 
Your desperation is endearing to Beomgyu— though it’s something he’ll never say out loud, choosing instead to tease and poke fun at you as he takes in your weak protests and flustered reactions with a deep satisfaction. 
With the two here, you don’t need to move a muscle— not when they can do it for you, allowing them to put you in any position they want as you find yourself laying on the bed, thighs rubbing impatiently as you watch them with wide expectant eyes, waiting for their next move as they hover over you. 
“Won’t you ask how our trip was?” Beomgyu asks, his sweet smile doing nothing to deter your mind from the fact that Taehyun is sinking to his stomach, situating himself comfortably between your legs as he begins to pry your bottoms off— his eyes flicker down to your line of sight, and he’s able to catch the way your panties are soaked through with your arousal, your pretty cunt still glistening from your last orgasm.
“Baby?” He asks again, taking a hold of your chin and forcing you to look back up at him. He’s pouting, petulant as always when he realizes your attention isn’t solely on him, “Eyes on me, baby. Answer my question, won’t you?”
“H…How was your trip…?” you’re trailing off indignantly the moment you feel Taehyun’s mouth on you; it’s warm and messy as his tongue is instantly licking up the remnants of your arousal, your legs twitching at the feeling before he’s throwing them over his shoulders— his grip is bruising on your thighs as he keeps you in place, sucking and licking and moaning against your cunt like a crazed man.
“It was so boring,” Beomgyu says, seemingly unfazed by the way Taehyun is pressed against your cunt, the intensity of it all making your brows furrow and your eyes glaze with pleasure; you’re gripping at the sheets as your mouth falls open, able to feel the way his nose presses against your clit as his tongue enters you smoothly, humming out in satisfaction as the vibrations only make you yelp with pleasure— though, after a moment, you’re able to take notice of the way Beomgyu’s hand has begun to palm at his cock, eyes drinking in even your most miniscule changes of expression as he smiles. 
“Couldn’t stand being away from you for so long,” he continues, glancing back to where Taehyun hums in agreement; he’s raising his head from where it’s buried between your legs for a second, his face shining with your arousal as he sends you a charming smile— you simply whine at the way you feel his fingers teasing your entrance, circling and prodding at it before they’re sinking into you; he’s curling and pumping them immediately, eager to pull out any reactions from you as he aims for all your sensitive spots with ease. 
“Both of us,” Beomgyu adds, watching as Taehyun sends you one last coy look before his eyes fall back on your pussy— your face feels hot as you watch his lips attach themselves to your clit, looking back up at you with innocent eyes as he continues to fuck with you with his fingers, adding a third before you can even process it. 
Beomgyu is as needy as ever as he scolds you to look back up at him— your eyes widen slightly as you take in the way he’s taken his cock out, stroking it slowly and furrowing his brows the moment you begin watching him; you’re reaching up to wrap a hand around him without a second thought, and he’s cursing lowly under his breath at the feeling of your warm hand, pumping him slowly and taking in the way his tip leaks profusely. 
“Thought of you the whole time…” he mumbles, wincing slightly at the way you shift toward him in order to wrap your mouth around him; your tongue darts out to lick at his tip teasingly, doe eyes only enticing him further as he cups your face with a fond look, “I thought of calling you— I had so many nights where I couldn’t sleep, just thought of you…”
Beomgyu can’t begin to count how many times he laid on the bed of his hotel room, eyes screwed shut as he fucked himself to the memory of you— more often than not, he thought of calling your during those times— he thought of sending you a video, a picture, anything that could show you just how much he needed you; instead, he decided to remain patient, to let his energy pent up until he finally saw you again. 
Now that you lay before him, your movements on his cock faltering from the feeling of Taehyun’s tongue against your pussy, fingers hitting all the spots that make your stomach twist up in knots, he’s not sure how he’ll contain himself— three weeks without you was simply a death sentence to him. 
“You should’ve called,” you whine out, your voice weak and shaky as your thighs tighten around Taehyun’s head; he remains unfazed by the action, his soft hair ticklish against your skin as he merely presses himself against you more— the bed begins to rock from how much you squirm from his ministrations, though the way he’s begun to rut into the mattress is also to blame.
“I would’ve helped you, I… ah…!” you’re unable to finish your sentence. Beomgyu’s hand has begun to guide your own on his cock, though you don’t seem to realize it from the way your eyes are screwed shut, your helpless noises growing louder and spurring Taehyun to pleasure you more— you can already begin to imagine the marks his fingers will leave on your thighs from how hard he’s got you, keeping you firmly against him and preventing you from escaping as he leads you to your second orgasm of the night— one of many you can tell, at least from the way the two watch you with dark, hungry eyes. 
You’re a whimpering and weak mess as Taehyun lets you ride out your orgasm; he’s licking up your cum eagerly, enjoying the way you twitch and cry from the overstimulation of it all, your voice already slightly hoarse as you meekly plead Taehyun to stop, please please please, too much…
He only stops when he feels a sharp tug at his hair— though, unlike you, who tries to tug at his roots in a controlled manner to not hurt him, this action is clearly meant to hurt, and he’s already sending Beomgyu a lethal glare as the said man simply smiles back, keeping him away from you as Taehyun winces at the feeling. 
You’re unaware of it all— you’re still catching your breath, your shirt hiked up and exposing your chest, taking deep breaths as your eyes remain shut— you’re especially unaware of the way they seem to be communicating silently, Beomgyu’s grip loosening from Taehyun’s hair as he simply sends him a look, mouthing words that have Taehyun letting out a soft oh. Before you can question it, you’re being moved again. 
“Baby, do you remember why we went on this trip?” Beomgyu asks you, moving you back until you’re almost against the headboard; you’re sitting up, and Beomgyu is right beside you as he smiles, your brain fuzzy as he waits for your answer with bright eyes— his smile widens slightly the moment you begin to mumble incoherently about renewing a partnership with a company— laughing softly, he kisses you, short and sweet as he nods.
“And it went well,” he says, his heart swelling as he takes in the way you slur out a soft congratulations, “So I— Tyunnie and I… were thinking we should celebrate.” 
“Celebrate?” you ask, peering up at him through dazed eyes; his hands have begun to wander, relishing in being able to feel your skin again as he nods.
“Do you trust us, baby?” Taehyun has appeared at your other side; they cage you in, though it doesn’t feel pressuring or dangerous as they wait for your answer with loving eyes. 
“Yes.”
Your answer is immediate— and you mean it, taking in the way the two only give you mischievous smiles in return; before you can process what’s going on, they’re asking you to change positions— Beomgyu currently lays back against the headboard as you hover over him, his clothes discarded as his fingers play with the hem of your tee— rather, their tee, unsure of who’s it might be, but knowing that it’s not your own simply from the way it looks on your figure.
“Safe word?” Beomgyu asks softly, beginning to tug your shirt up before you’re obeying and taking it off; tossing it to the side, you mumble the safe word you all agreed upon, and he’s sending you an endearing smile before he’s tugging your hips down; he hisses softly at the feeling of your warm cunt fluttering around his tip, already able to feel your seeping arousal before you finally sink onto him.
“Fuck, oh shit,” he sighs, feeling the way you stretch around him, much tighter than he remembers as you simply whine at the feeling, “God, did you really miss us this much, pretty girl?”
The way you nod without hesitation has Beomgyu laughing softly; he’s reaching to take your hands, tugging at you until you’re hovering over him, your hands on either side of his head as he pouts softly at you.
“Who’d you miss more,” he begins, his antics nothing new to you as you fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Me or Tyunnie?”
There’s a right answer here, he mutters, groaning softly as he finally bottoms out inside you, feeling your hips flush against his as he bucks his hips up— whether he’s trying to get you to moan out his name or he simply can’t control himself like he tells you, you’re unsure. 
“Missed both of you,” you whine, and you fall onto him pathetically the moment he bucks his hips up into you roughly, your body jolting up from the motion.
“Really?” he asks, patting your head softly as you nod against him, “Then, do you want Tyunnie to fuck you too?” 
Mindlessly, you nod— then you freeze, feeling as though there’s more to what Beomgyu is asking as you sit back up, sending him a confused look that only makes him smile with endearment. 
“What?” he says, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you come in contact with Taehyun’s bare chest, twisting your head to look back at him— but you’re unable to, only being able to feel his firm chest press against your back, warm hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly as he places feathery kisses along your shoulder, “Since you can never pick between us, why not have both?”
His comment is both condescending and lighthearted— he doesn’t mind sharing, but he knows that mentioning it is always enough to fluster you— and, like clockwork, you tense up, unsure of what to say as Taehyun begins to leave open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, going up, up up until he’s finally reached you ear, placing a kiss behind it before he’s whispering a soft don’t you wanna feel good, pretty? the words barely whispered as you make eye contact with Beomgyu, who was already unable to keep his eyes off you. 
The moment you catch on, Beomgyu lets out a soft moan— he can feel you clench around him, your warm walls fluttering around him and causing him to throw his head back, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure as you simply whine at the sight, feeling the way his cock ruts into you from response. 
“What do you say then, pretty?” Taehyun asks, his scent overtaking your senses from how close he is to you, something you didn’t think you missed as much as you did as you find yourself leaning back against him, your head tilting back to rest against his shoulder as you bite your lip, taking a moment to respond as Taehyun begins littering kisses along your jaw. 
“Yes, please, I want you— want you both, need you both to fuck me,” your words practically have the two malfunctioning— You can feel Taehyun smile against your jaw as Beomgyu’s hips jump up once more, and you allow Taehyun to place one last chaste kiss on your lips before he’s guiding you to lean back down.
You’ve never done this before— you’ve never thought of doing this, but as Beomgyu begins to fuck into you slowly, allowing you to loosen up around him for Taehyun, you realize that this business trip must’ve affected them much more than they let on. 
You tense slightly the moment you feel Taehyun’s tip prod at your full entrance; Beomgyu catches onto it instantly, muttering a soft still okay? against the crown of your head, only giving Taehyun a nod of confirmation the moment you tell him yes. 
“Relax for us, okay?” Taehyun coos, rubbing your skin soothingly and only continuing once he sees the tension leave your body— carefully, he begins to enter you. 
You already felt full enough with either of them inside you— but now, as you felt Taehyun finally slip inside, the three of you letting out pleasured sounds from it, you feel absolutely stuffed. 
“ffffu…. god… why didn’t we try this sooner,” you hear Beomgyu groan, jaw clenched as he focuses on not coming inside you then and there— the way you whine and whimper into his ear is enough to have him shutting his eyes, letting out another groan as he feels Taehyun bottom out, the feeling of their cocks rubbing against each other filthy and new, your fingers gripping onto Beomgyu’s shoulder desperately as you will yourself to hover over him. 
Beomgyu looks entirely fucked out; his expression probably mirrors yours, his face flushed and his eyes blown out with lust as he sends you a coy smile; behind you, you can feel Taehyun lean down to press against you, a hand securing itself on your waist while the other supports his weight— his head is buried in the crook of your neck, trying to hide the weak whines he lets out once he finally begins to pull out. 
The moment he thrusts back in, you can already feel tears prick at your eyes— you’re loud and unabashed in your sounds as they finally begin to fuck you, experimenting a bit before they finally find a good rhythm. 
When Beomgyu pulls out, Taehyun thrusts back in— it’s a cycle that leaves you constantly full and weak, and if it weren’t for Taehyun’s arm wrapped around your waist, you’re sure you would’ve fallen against Beomgyu already— though moments after, when Taehyun chooses to grab a hold of your hips in order to guide you onto them, you’re doing exactly that. 
“Feels good?” Beomgyu asks, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours, laughing cruelly at the drooly and fucked out mess you’ve turned into, barely able to mutter out a response from how good they’re fucking you, “Such a good girl— shit, ugh— always wanting to make us feel good, taking whatever we give her.”
“You have no idea how much we missed you,” Taehyun mutters against your skin, barely able to continue his sentence from the way you clench around them, your mixed arousals and the sound of skin slapping against skin almost drowning out your sounds, “Had us— ah… fucking bonding from how— ngh, how bad it was.”
The thought is enough to make you laugh— though you aren’t able to, not with the way they continue to fuck you roughly, your back arching from the way Taehyun’s clever hand begins to rub at your clit— you can only whine softly at the feeling, allowing them to toy with you however they’d like as Beomgyu sneaks a hand to play with your breasts. 
“Missed you— missed this,” Beomgyu rambles to himself, and you can feel the way his hips begin to stutter, losing their rhythm and affecting Taehyun in the process, “Just wanted to hear you cute little sounds again, my pretty girl.”
“Our pretty girl…” Taehyun corrects, though it’s only to tease as he feels you tighten around him— you’re close, he can tell, and it only fuels the two men to continue fucking you recklessly, “Can you cum for us, pretty? Wanna feel it, missed seeing you come on my cock, just give us one more, sweet thing—“
His words become foggy to your mind after that, but you can hear him guiding you the whole time you crash down, letting out a loud cry before Beomgyu’s cupping your face and guiding you to his lips, kissing you slowly and taking in your sounds as you practically drool against him— the kiss is messy and you’re barely able to process anything, feeling him bite your lips and run his tongue along your mouth teasingly before he laughs, pulling away to give you one last sweet kiss. 
“Want us to fill you up?” Beomgyu asks, his voice slightly tense as he continues to concentrate on not falling apart then and there; even through your foggy mind, you’re nodding eagerly, teary eyes affecting Beomgyu much more than he’d like to admit as he finally allows himself to cum inside you—you can hear Taehyun hiss softly at the feeling, triggering his own orgasm as the two men whimper at the feeling, unable to stop their cocks from rutting into you, sensitive from the way they continue to rub against each other inside.
You’re warm and filled to the point that it’s already begun to leak out— Taehyun swears that he’s never seen a better sight, and you’re burying your head into the crook of Beomgyu’s neck, mentally rolling your eyes at the way he pouts a soft no fair, I can’t see.
You don’t think you can bring yourself to move after that— lucky for you, you have two strong men to do your bidding— which is exactly why you’re able to find yourself in a warm bubble bath after a few minutes of rest, unable to stop yourself from marveling at the luxury of it all despite being with the two for— well, a year.
“I’m so happy to be back, seriously,” Beomgyu mutters, his head laying on your chest as you simply laugh, running your fingers through his hair fondly, “I don’t think I can be away from you for that long again.”
“Was it really that bad?” you ask softly, slightly embarrassed at how hoarse your voice is; they merely laugh fondly at you, and Taehyun’s arms circle around your waist before he’s pressing himself closer to you— you can feel him nod despite his forehead resting against your shoulder, and you merely roll your eyes at their theatrics, tilting your head back and resting your head against Taehyun’s shoulder, allowing him to slot his chin on your own, “Why don’t you just take me with you next time, hmm?”
“You’d like that?” Beomgyu immediately asks, titling his head back and looking at you with wide, sparkling eyes— you laugh, nodding softly as you watch him smile cutely in return, “You better not change your mind.”
“I won’t,” you muse, smiling at the way Taehyun places a soft kiss on your cheek, “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Because despite your doubts, they’ve really proven just how much you mean to them— and as you feel them cuddle closer to you, allowing yourself to sink into the warm water that soothes your sore body, you can’t control the way your heart flutters from the mere way they hold you.
God, you’re down bad.
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zablife · 11 months ago
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Seamstress, Secretary, Sex-worker, Spy
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John x female reader
Summary: You've been seen with John numerous times and now the Shelby family is getting suspicious. Who are you and what's your true relationship to John?
Author’s Note: This was requested by a lovely anon. Tysm for the idea! I hope you don't mind that I wrote them as headcanons. I haven't had much time for full fics recently.
Warnings: language, mention of smut
🌹The first time someone sees you with John you're collecting the laundry, a large basket at your hip piled high with all his unwashed shirts. "Have we got a new washerwoman in town, Charlie?" Curly asks, scratching his head as he sees you passing on the street.
"Don't look like any washerwoman I ever saw," Charlie says ogling you.
💌The second time, you're in the betting shop, nibbling on the end of a pencil as you think of a clever note to leave on John’s desk. Linda rolls her eyes as she complains, "Perfect, they've sent me another useless idiot who can't do simple maths." When you disappear, she assumes you quit. "Thanks be to Jesus for that," she mutters under her breath.
❤️ The third time your presence is much harder to miss, a sharp cry of pleasure erupting from the snug in the Garrison. "Has John got a whore in there?" Isaiah asked, turning to Finn with a wicked smirk. Their suspicions seemed to be confirmed when you left minutes later, money in hand and a smoldering kiss to send you on your way.
🌹 The mystery of your presence remains in the following days and soon Tommy becomes suspicious as well. “I knew he was spending too much time in Solomons’ territory,” he grumbles, pacing the floor of his office. “What if that dodgy fucker sent her here?"
"A spy?" Polly chuckles as she leans back in her chair.
"Why not use a pretty girl to turn his head?," Tommy reasoned with a huff of frustration. When she rolled her eyes in return he shouted, "Everyone knows John thinks with his cock!"
💌 The family meeting begins without John who appears twenty minutes late, stuffing his shirt into the back of his trousers. Running to the meeting from your arms is difficult enough, but now the entire family is boring holes into him, expecting an explanation. When they begin telling him of their suspicions, his mouth drops open.
"You being serious, Tom?" he asks. "All of you?" he looks around the room aghast. Slowly everyone nods. "Bloody hell..." his voice drops as removes his cap and drops into a chair crestfallen.
❤️ Polly begins to look worried, leaning forward at the table to ask, "John, if this girl is going to be trouble, we need to know."
"Always thinking the worst, ain't ya?" he answers bitterly. Then he shakes his head with a little laugh, which angers Arthur first.
"You fucking laughing at us? Finn and Isaiah saw you pay the little tart! What's that about, eh?" he grumbles, anger contorting his face.
"What the fuck did you call her?" John seethes, lunging for his brother. A scuffle breaks out between them which Tommy and Uncle Charlie have to stop before either of them can land a punch.
🌹 John straightens his clothes as he begins, "Yeah, she's my girl. But she ain't a whore and she ain't a spy for Alfie fucking Solomons either alright? Moved to Saltley two years ago with her mum. I had it checked out....'M not as stupid as everyone thinks." He sniffs and takes a look around the room to see disbelief still hanging in the air. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"
Polly places a hand on his arm, "We're listening, go on."
💌John's eyes soften as he speaks of you. "She takes care of me, does the laundry and shopping, leaves me kind notes..." Eyes glazing slightly at the memory he turns to Arthur adding, "Sucks me dry, I swear to God. Yesterday I thought--"
"We believe you," Polly interjects with a firm nod. Turning to her other nephew she states, "Tommy, I think this item of business is closed."
❤️ You're invited to the next family dinner as a way to placate John, but also for the others to get to know you. When they do, they adore you instantly and John is rightfully vindicated. "Shouldn't have doubted me," John reminds them.
"I know. I was wrong to say you were only thinking with your cock," Tommy apologizes.
"No, I was thinking with me cock, but for once it was the right decision," John admits with a wink.
------------------
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dancingbirdie · 1 year ago
Note
Here’s a smut idea that’s been stuck in my mind, how about the reader getting caught in the middle of “taking care of themself” and Astarion decides to join the fun but only to guide their hands along and just cooing soft, encouraging/teasing words into their ear 😩
Hi, anon! This was so naughty and I loved it. I wrote this fic in, like, less than two hours. So I guess that shows how excited I was to sketch this out haha. I hope you enjoy! xoxoxo
A Good Show
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.5K
Warnings/Tags: masturbation (fem), praise kink, voyeurism, slight dom/sub vibes
Summary: Astarion catches you playing with yourself and is all too eager to help you finish.
*****
“Your wicked tongue got you into this predicament. You know that, don’t you?” Astarion smirked down at you, sprawled as you were on hands and knees over his lap. 
You whimpered as his fingertips traced across your backside, feather-soft, mapping the skin there. 
You heard the crack of his palm against your bottom before you actually registered the sting. A desperate mewl slipped from your lips as your mind attempted to reconcile the pain with the flood of arousal in your lower abdomen. 
You were so wet. Dripping, filthy wet. And he knew it. 
“Tch. So naughty. Not even a good smack can get you to behave. Whatever shall I do with you, hmm?” Astarion murmured. His hand resumed its tracing while the other carded through your hair lovingly. 
“Whatever you want,” you breathed, trembling with want from the obscene position you found yourself in. Naked, bent over Astarion’s lap, ass smarting, and cunt as wet as the Chianthar. 
“Dangerous words, darling,” he chuckled, dipping his fingers lower and slipping all too easily between your slick folds. 
You moaned as you felt him insert two fingers inside you and begin pumping at a leisurely pace. His other hand soon joined, thumb circling slowly around your swollen clit. It was all you could do to remain balanced and not collapse on top of his lap. 
You could see it so clearly in your mind’s eye. 
Although it was your fingers pumping inside you, it was his hands you thought of. It was his slender digits, impaling you again and again. It was his thumb circling your clit until you nearly saw stars. 
You’d shoved the collar of your tunic in your mouth to keep your voice muffled. The vision you were concocting was so vivid, it was nearly impossible to stop yourself from moaning. The humble little inn you all had settled in for the night was so quiet; you could only pray that no one heard you through the thin walls. But just a few more pumps of your fingers with fantasy-Astarion goading you on, and you knew that a climax would be nearing ever closer. 
Your hopes for secrecy were dashed as your ears pricked, honing in on the quiet cough emanating from the corner of the room. You froze. To your horror, you realized the door to your quarters was ajar and who else but Astarion himself was now peering around it to find you, perched at the end of the bed, trousers at your ankles, playing with yourself. 
You could have sworn you’d secured the latch on the door beforehand. But, then again, this place was in shambles. It was fully possible that the thing was too rusted to do its simple job. Either way, it hardly mattered now, given that the subject of your pleasure fantasy was now locking eyes with you in reality, his eyebrows raised in obvious amusement. 
“My, my. What do we have here? And, more importantly, why didn’t I receive an invitation?” he smirked. 
His voice spurred you into action, and you quickly rose from your reclined position to attempt to cover your not-so-decent bits from view. You could feel the red crush of embarrassment coloring every part of your body it could. 
“Astarion, I’m so, so sorry. I swore I closed the door earlier and… and…” you trailed off, burying your face in your hands. “Gods, this is worse than a javelin to the thigh,” you finished in a muffled tone.
You heard his throaty chuckle. “These locks are all but disintegrated, darling. They’d barely hold a mouse at bay, I’d wager.” 
You nodded, too mortified to continue having this conversation with him. It was bad enough to have been caught in the act, but to be caught by the very person you’d been fantasizing about? The gods were truly cruel. 
You heard the door close with a quiet snick. Assuming Astarion had sauntered off down the hall, your shoulders sagged with the weight of all that had transpired. 
You didn’t expect his voice to call to you again. This time, a little closer in proximity. 
“Well, is that it, then?” he goaded. 
You lifted your head slowly from your hands to peer at him. He was watching you with an intensity that one might see in a predator observing their prey. 
“What do you mean?” you hedged. 
“I mean, are you going to leave yourself half-sated, or are you going to finish what you started?” Astarion intoned. 
“What - are you thinking of staying for a show?” you retorted, flabbergasted at yet another turn in the course of these events.
“Wouldn’t you like me to?” he pressed, a teasing smile stretching his lips wide. His fangs glinted in the candlelight. “I heard you sigh my name, you know.”
You stared at him in horror, but he only chuckled again. 
“The wonders of elf ears and vampiric senses. They never cease,” he explained. 
Then he made his way further into the room, closer to you, before slouching against one of the bedposts at the foot of the bed. 
“I know you want to,” he murmured in a low drawl. “I can feel your arousal. It’s still boiling within you.”
Your breath stuttered of its own accord. His voice was so deep, so smooth, it was nearly impossible to resist. 
“I don’t know that I can…” you whispered, not trusting your voice to keep the gravity of your desire a secret. “What with you, you know, just standing there watching me…”
“Oh, darling,” he cooed, peeling away from the bedpost to crawl up on the mattress behind you. You watched him, awestruck, until he disappeared from your peripheral vision. 
“I plan to do much more than that,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. 
You shivered as you felt his legs stretch and line up against yours, while his hands came to band around each of your wrists. You groaned as you felt the hardness of his erection pressed firm against your backside, realization dawning on you that he was enjoying this, too. 
“Wh-what are you doing?” you breathed as you allowed him to lift your hands from your lap. Like you were a marionette on strings. His marionette. His strings. 
“Making sure you give yourself a good finish,” he crooned. “Now, lean back into me, and start touching yourself again.”
The obscenity of it all caused your cunt to flush with arousal all over again. You clenched on thin air, a pitiful whine escaping your mouth. 
“Three fingers this time, please,” Astarion whispered, nudging your right hand down lower. “I know you can take it.” 
Your fingers followed his orders almost of their own accord. Like your body was primed and ready to take Astarion’s demands, whatever they may be. 
You groaned as you sheathed three fingers inside your dripping cunt, pulsing them in and out. It was tight, so tight, but in the most delicious way. 
“There’s a good girl,” he murmured through a kiss against your temple. “Now the other hand, if you will.”
You whined as he guided the fingers of your left hand to begin circling your swollen clit, almost too sensitive to bear. 
“That’s it, darling. Yes. You follow orders so well,” he crooned. “Give yourself a good finish. Let me see how you touch yourself when you’re thinking of me.”
You were beyond words. Couldn’t fathom enough of them to string together a sentence. His name and a plea to the gods were all you could muster, and after a while those two seemed to blend into one. Astarion was the only god here that you could feel. And it was his praises you sang as he kept a firm grip on your wrists, forcing yourself to usher in your completion. 
“You’re so close, I can almost taste it,” he breathed into your ear. You could feel his ragged breathing behind you as you continued to touch yourself, back arching into his chest all the while.
“Give me a good show, darling. Come for me. Come with my name on your lips,” he ordered. 
Your body was more than willing to comply. With a last thrust of your fingers, landing all the harder thanks to the extra force Astarion applied to your hand, you wailed his name as you climaxed. Your body shuddered as you reeled from the pleasure of it, stars exploding behind your eyelids and reforming from the dust that remained. 
It was the hardest orgasm you had ever experienced by your hand, and you knew it had everything to do with the one who had been guiding you. You collapsed your full weight into Astarion’s chest, soaking in the coolness of his skin against your heated flesh. 
“That was… that was incredible…” you murmured after a moment spent collecting your breath. 
You bounced against his body slightly as he chuckled. “It was, wasn’t it?” he mused. “You gave quite the performance, I have to say.” 
“I had an excellent instructor,” you teased, eliciting a true bark of laughter from him at last. 
“Free lessons for you, whenever you’d like,” he retorted, kissing your temple once more.
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moonselune · 6 months ago
Note
Hey! Big fan of your work, would you ever do a hurt / comfort fic or snippet for the BG3 boys (rolan included maybe?) for durge after receiving the information / memories of what happened with Kressa Bonedaughter?
https://x.com/bhaalsprincess/status/1806146510930792898?s=46
sorry idk if the link works :(
For this we are going to pretend that Rolan is part of your party, also I realised after I got half way through that I wrote it as the boys hurt/comfort rather than durge hurt/comfort 😅 Hope you still like it tho <3
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Gale:
Kressa Bonedaughter’s voice resonates in your mind like a chill wind cutting through the remnants of the day’s warmth. You remember her eyes glinting with unsettling affection as she recounted the memories of your shared past.
That night, you sit by the campfire, the flames casting dancing shadows around you. The others have retired, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The crackling of the fire is a comforting, familiar sound, but it does little to ease the strange unease that Kressa’s words have stirred within you.
Gale approaches, his footsteps soft on the grass. He sits beside you, his presence a steady, comforting weight. For a while, he says nothing, simply watching the flames. Then, he turns to you, and you see the tears glistening in his eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me it was bothering you?" he asks, his voice choked with emotion.
You look at him, surprised. "Gale, I told you, I don't remember any of it. It doesn't bother me."
"But it bothers me," he says, the tears spilling over. "The thought of what you went through… what she did to you… It tears me apart inside."
You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "Gale, it's in the past. I survived. I'm here now, with you. That’s all that matters."
He shakes his head, his grip tightening around your hand. "No, it's not that simple. The pain, the suffering—you shouldn't have had to endure any of it. And the fact that you don't remember… It scares me. What else might be lurking in your past? What other horrors did you endure?"
His tears fall freely now, and seeing him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You pull him into your arms, holding him tightly as he cries against your shoulder.
"It's alright," you whisper, your own voice trembling. "I'm alright. You don't have to cry for me."
"I can't help it," he murmurs, his words muffled against your shoulder. "I love you, and the thought of you in pain… It hurts so much."
You hold him close, rocking slightly, the fire crackling softly beside you. The weight of his emotions, the depth of his love—it grounds you in a way you hadn't realized you needed.
"I'm here now," you say again, more firmly this time. "And I'm not going anywhere."
He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His tears have left tracks down his cheeks, and his eyes are red, but there's a fierce determination in his gaze.
"I know," he says, his voice steadier now. "But promise me something. If you ever remember… if those memories ever come back… don't face them alone. Come to me. Let me help you."
You nod, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to refuse. "I promise."
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, the world feels right again. As you sit by the fire, holding each other, you feel a sense of peace. The past may be dark and filled with pain, but the present, with Gale’s love, it shines brightly enough to keep the shadows at bay.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Astarion:
You return to camp, your body exhausted but your mind buzzing with fragments of memories and emotions, stirred up by the wicked Kressa's words. As you approach the campfire, you see Astarion pacing around it, his movements agitated and furious. His usually composed demeanor is shattered, replaced by a storm of emotions. He looks up as you approach, his eyes blazing with anger.
"How dare she," he spits, his voice trembling with rage. "How dare she do that to you!"
You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Astarion, I don't even remember it. It's like hearing a story about someone else."
His fury only intensifies at your nonchalance. "A story about someone else?" he repeats incredulously. "It was you! She tortured you and you act like it doesn't matter!"
You can’t help but be amused by his passion, which only serves to infuriate him further. "Astarion, it's in the past. I can't remember it, so it doesn't affect me."
He stops pacing and steps closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "It affects me," he says through gritted teeth. "The thought of you suffering like that… it's unbearable. I wish I could kill her all over again, make her pay for every moment of pain she put you through."
You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "But she's gone, Astarion. We defeated her. It's over."
His muscles are tense under your touch, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "You don't get it," he says, his voice softer but still filled with anger. "I care about you. I can’t just brush it off like you can."
You squeeze his arm gently, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away. "I know you care," you say, your voice gentle. "And I appreciate it more than you know. But right now, what I need is to focus on the present, on what we can control."
He looks into your eyes, his anger giving way to concern. "And what if those memories come back? What if you start to remember everything she did to you?"
You take a deep breath, the possibility of those memories surfacing a distant, unsettling thought. "If they do, then I’ll deal with it. And I’ll have you by my side to help me through it."
He pulls you into a tight embrace, his earlier anger dissolving into a protective, fierce love. "Always," he murmurs into your hair. "I’ll always be here for you."
You hold him close, the warmth of his body grounding you. "Thank you, Astarion. For caring so much."
He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You deserve to be cared for," he says firmly. "You deserve to be protected from monsters like her."
You smile, touched by his words and the depth of his feelings. "And you deserve to find peace, too. We both do."
"Yes," He nods, his expression softening. "Yes, we do."
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Wyll:
Kressa Bonedaughter’s words echo in your mind long after the battle has ended. Her disturbing attachment to you, the tales of relentless experiments, and her twisted pride in your resilience—these are things you can’t fully grasp due to the dark void where your memories should be. But now, she lies defeated at your feet, her body a testament to the horrors she wrought.
As you take a moment to catch your breath, you notice Wyll standing over her body. His face is a mask of rage, and his sword rises and falls in a relentless, brutal rhythm. He’s attacking her lifeless form with a fury that is both shocking and heartbreaking.
“Wyll,” you call out, your voice tinged with concern. “She’s dead. It’s over.”
But he doesn’t seem to hear you. His strikes continue, each one more forceful than the last, as if he’s trying to obliterate every trace of her existence. The sound of metal against flesh and bone is sickening, and you can see the wild, almost desperate look in his eyes.
You step closer, your voice firmer. “Wyll, stop. She’s dead!”
Still, he doesn’t respond. It’s as if he’s in a trance, lost in his own world of vengeance and pain. You can’t stand to see him like this, consumed by a rage that threatens to devour him whole. Summoning your strength, you reach out and grab his arm, pulling him back.
“Wyll, look at me!” you shout, your voice cutting through the haze of his fury.
He finally stops, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes are wild, filled with a mix of rage and sorrow. He looks down at Kressa’s mutilated body, then back at you, as if seeing you for the first time.
“She’s dead,” you repeat softly. “It’s over.”
He shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. “It will never be over. Not after what she did to you.”
You feel a pang of guilt and sorrow. “I don’t remember, Wyll. Whatever she did, it’s gone from my mind.”
“That doesn’t change what happened,” he says, his voice breaking. “It doesn’t change the fact that she tortured you, experimented on you like you were nothing. And you don’t even remember…”
You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to reach him. “I know it’s horrible, but killing her over and over again won’t change the past. We need to move forward. We need to find your father."
He drops his sword, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I just… I can’t let it go. The thought of you suffering like that… it’s too much.”
You step closer, placing a hand on his arm. “We all carry our burdens, Wyll. But we have to find a way to live with them, not let them destroy us.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and something softer—concern, perhaps, or even love. “You’re stronger than you know,” he says quietly. “Stronger than any of us. But I can’t help but feel that you shouldn’t have had to be.”
You squeeze his arm gently. “Thank you, Wyll. For caring so much. But we have to keep moving forward. Together.”
He nods slowly, the fire in his eyes dimming but not extinguished. “You’re right. We can’t let the past dictate our future. But I promise you this—I will never let anyone hurt you like that again.”
“I believe you,” you say, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “And I appreciate it, my love.”
With a final look at Kressa’s lifeless body, Wyll steps back, his breathing finally beginning to steady. The rage that had consumed him ebbs away, replaced by a weary resolve.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
Kressa Bonedaughter’s twisted affection for your resilience, her pride in your endurance through countless experiments—these revelations hang over you like a dark cloud. Though the memories she described are shrouded in the void left by your lost past, they disturb you in ways you can’t quite articulate.
Back at camp, you notice a subtle shift in Halsin’s behavior. He hovers close to you, his eyes constantly scanning your surroundings, as if expecting danger to strike at any moment. When you sit by the fire, he sits beside you, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. His presence is a comforting weight, but there's an intensity in his gaze that wasn’t there before.
That night, as you lie in your bedroll, you sense Halsin’s watchful eyes on you. You turn slightly, peeking through your lashes, and confirm your suspicion—he’s sitting nearby, his eyes fixed on you, his expression a mix of worry and determination. This has been happening every night since the encounter with Kressa, and it’s starting to wear on you.
After a while, you decide you can't ignore it any longer. You sit up, your eyes meeting his. “Halsin, why are you watching me sleep?”
He starts, clearly caught off guard, and then sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, my heart, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” you say softly. “I’ve noticed you doing this for a few nights now. Why?”
Halsin’s shoulders sag slightly, and he moves to sit closer to you, his hand reaching out to take yours. “After what Kressa said, about what she did to you, I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. About the pain you must have endured.”
You squeeze his hand gently. “But I don’t remember any of it, Halsin. It’s just a story to me.”
“To you, maybe,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “But to me, it’s a nightmare I can’t shake. The thought of you being hurt, experimented on like that… it’s unbearable. I feel like I failed you, even though I wasn’t there.”
“Halsin, you couldn’t have done anything. You didn’t even know me then.”
“That doesn’t change how I feel now,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “I love you. And the idea of you being in pain, of suffering alone… I can’t bear it.”
You’re touched by the depth of his feelings, but also concerned. “Halsin, you can’t keep watching over me like this. You need to rest too. We both do.”
He nods slowly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I know. It’s just… difficult. I want to protect you. To make sure you’re safe.”
“I appreciate that more than you know,” you say, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “But we need to find a balance. We can’t let the past, even one I don’t remember, control our present.”
He returns your kiss, his touch warm and reassuring. “You’re right,” he murmurs against your lips. “I just… I care so much. Sometimes it feels overwhelming.”
You rest your forehead against his, your eyes closing as you take comfort in his presence. “We’ll get through this together. But promise me you’ll try to sleep tonight.”
He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I promise. But if you ever feel uneasy, if you ever remember anything, please tell me. Let me be there for you.”
“I will,” you promise, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. “And thank you, my heart. For everything.”
You settle back into your bedroll, and this time, Halsin lies down beside you, holding you close. His presence is a shield against the darkness, and as you drift off to sleep, you feel a sense of peace, knowing that you’re not alone.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Rolan:
As you make your way back to camp, you notice Rolan off to the side, his usually poorly hidden irritated demeanour now replaced with visible irritation. He’s pacing, muttering to himself, his expression dark and brooding. You approach him cautiously, sensing that something is deeply troubling him.
“Rolan, love,” you say gently, “is everything alright?”
He stops and looks at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “No, everything is not alright,” he snaps, his voice sharper than usual.
You’re taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
He runs a hand through his hair, his agitation palpable. “It’s what that…that monster did to you,” he says, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “The things she said, the things she did. It’s… it’s unbearable.”
You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Rolan, I don’t remember any of it. It’s like it happened to someone else. I’m fine, really.”
“Fine?” he echoes incredulously, his eyes narrowing. “You think you’re fine because you don’t remember it? That doesn’t change the fact that it happened! That you were tortured, experimented on like some… some animal!”
You can feel the frustration boiling inside him, the helplessness he feels. “Rolan, I understand that it’s upsetting, but—”
“No, you don’t understand!” he interrupts, his voice rising. “You can’t understand because you don’t remember! But I do. I heard her. I saw the look in her eyes when she talked about what she did to you. And it makes me sick.”
You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, trying to ground him. “I know it’s hard, but we defeated her. She can’t hurt anyone anymore. And I have you and the others to help me through whatever comes next.”
He looks at you, his expression softening just a bit, but the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of you suffering like that. Of anyone hurting you.”
Your heart aches for him, for the pain he’s feeling on your behalf. “Rolan, I appreciate how much you care. It means a lot to me. But we have to focus on the present, on what we can control. And right now, we’re together, and we’re safe.”
He takes a deep breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I know. It’s just… hard to let go of the anger. To think about what you went through.”
You squeeze his arm gently. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”
He looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and finally nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just… it’s hard.”
You smile softly. “I know. And it’s okay. We all have our breaking points. But we’ll support each other, no matter what.”
He pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly. “Thank you. For understanding. For being here.”
You hold him close, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “Always."
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Oof this was a lot, my poor babies, who would put you through such a thing (it was me, I did, and I'll do it again)
Hope y'all enjoyed it - Seluney xox
225 notes · View notes
ambrosialdesire · 5 months ago
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Can I request yandere porco x reader who doesn't take him seriously/ isn't afraid of him or being bratty or whatever so he transforms to scare her
hellion
18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI
pairing: s4 porco x fem!reader word count: 5.9k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, past + current human-trafficking/purchase mentions, forced feminization/infantilization, stockholm syndrome development, forced proximity, torture/violence mentions (choking, starvation, drowning, tying up), drugging (sedation), prey & predator vibes, kinda psychological horror?, humiliation, slight praise, degradation, slight gaslighting, kinda mindbreaky, all characters are 18+ synopsis: you were an impulse purchase that he never thought he'd make before, and although he doesn't regret it, he's having a difficult time trying to soothe your feisty spirit. who knew that all it took was one transformation and a chase you'll never forget? a/n: i'm gonna be so fr idk how to write bratty characters LOL i rarely read bratty readers in general so i'm really free-balling this 💀 kinda simple and to the point compared to my other fics, esp since i've never wrote for porco before so this is like testing the waters and most likely SUPER ooc. it's also more of a psychological fic since i'm not in the mood of writing complete nsfw haha but i hope you enjoyed this anon! sorry it also took so long to be done but then took me like three days to make and edit 😅 (i still think it's a little sloppy, esp the end BUT that's what anon questions are for so i can sorta explain and piece it together more lol) again, hope y'all enjoy!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚.───
He hated when you got like this, putting up a constant nonsensical fight against him.
You'd be a perfect candidate to be his successor from the way you bite down into his skin when he tried to touch you, scratching up his face when he got too close, and always almost managing to slip through his grasp to dash towards the open basement door before he tugged the chain wrapped around your throat back towards him, watching you bare your teeth at him angrily. You were truly a wild animal, that's why he chose you in the first place.
Porco wanted to tame this wild spirit of yours, simply for the fact to see if he could.
Little progress was made, he made your purchase not long ago in the slums of Liberio, where the truly wicked and evil roamed to sell and purchase anything deemed illegal by the Marleyan government. As much as he refused to take these kinds of assignments, preferring to be back on the battlefield with Zeke and Pieck, Porco was already in deep waters for fighting with Reiner again. Not his fault that the Vice Captain's face was so punchable. Thus, here he was, being forced to shut one of the operations down that was said to involve a human-trafficking ring. Down he went alone in disguise, shuffling through the disgusting sweaty bodies of devil scum drooling over a piece of fresh meat on the stage.
He remembered got a good view of the bidding, eyeing each fearful chained-up person with boredom until you were pulled up. God, you really were the star of the stage. Two burly men had to tug your fighting body onto the crumbling wooden stage, a mixed sound of what could be a snarl and screech emerging through your cracked and bruised lips as you refused to move any further. You put up a good fight against the henchmen, the crowd jeering at the display of tug-o-war.
Once they managed to get you to the middle, the auctioneer started to ramble on about your pricing. Your hands may be wrapped in cloth and tied together, but the minute he neared you to show you off, you struck him with a mean uppercut, almost pouncing on him once he fell over before the two men held you back. Even then, you were thrashing around on your wounded feet, spitting out curses and howls at the fuckers beneath you, telling them that you'd hope they'd all burn and rot in hell.
He's the only one that snorted at that statement, feeling all eyes on him.
Porco really wasn't any different from those around him as he raised his hand up, offering over a thousand for the wild girl, more than what the other fucks around him could possibly afford. It won't make a dent in his bank account either because once he takes you home, the authorities would've already been called to the place. He gets to keep his money and you, while Marley gets rid of more scum; a two in one deal. You glared down at him, a burning fire settling deep within the darks of your pupils as he grinned back in return.
You were going to be a fun little purchase, that he's sure of.
He didn't really want to, but considering that you were a snappy little thing, you had to be down in the basement of his home until he managed to get your temper under control. The chain was long enough for you to reach the bathroom down there from the bed, but not long enough to reach the door. Once you managed to slightly calm down, realizing that your new "owner" was unfazed by your act as he leaned against the wall, you cautiously settled on the bed. You were still tense, unsure of what his intentions are.
"You got a name?" Porco started, finally breaking the silence as he crossed over his arms.
"You have my papers, don't you?" Your eyes squinted at him, the raspy retort coming quick out your mouth. He did, but he didn't bother looking at them just yet.
He scoffed, pushing himself off the wall, slowly stepping closer to you. "Snarky one, aren'tcha? Just tryna be a little civil here."
"Civility? Don't make me laugh. Buddy, you're the one that bought me. I think we both know that any sort of civility you had has been long gone the moment you raised your stinkin' fucking hand in the auction and brought me down here." If your temper wasn't enough indication of a need of reformation, your mouth definitely was.
"I'm surprised you even lasted that long in the slums with that tongue and attitude of yours, most would've been turned into chopped meat without even a second thought." You were about to say something back before he slammed his hand into your face, pushing your head into the bed and prying your mouth open with his fingers. A gurgle of a scream erupted out of your throat as you struggled to push him off you, but no dice.
"But I'm not like most. Me? I could crush your skull whenever I want, maybe slowly pull each of your limbs apart so you'll feel each tendon and ligament rip away from your sorry torso." Porco pushed harder until you got the message, silencing yourself as your face ached and throbbed from the pressure, yet your eyes still held that same vindictiveness from the auction that never seemed to quite be quenched. Your jaw abruptly closed around his fingers, a pained hiss slipping out of his lips as the pearly whites grinded into his skin.
He's going to relish seeing that light die from you, when you finally realize that he's the sole reason of your living, that you should've been grateful from the start that he's the one that bought you instead of the beer-gut ridden trash that wasted away in the slums.
Porco finally removed his hand out of your mouth, drool and teeth indentations staining his fingers. Light steam was coming off of them, the superficial wounds closing up. He knew you caught that, eyes focused on his hand.
"Now, get some rest. Training begins tomorrow."
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
When he said training, he meant torture.
That's what you thought as you experienced every debilitating and humiliating ritual he forced onto you every day. You eventually learned his name because of someone saying it upstairs — God you wished that the floors above were as soundproof as the basement's walls— Porco, but you called him 'piggy' sometimes, despite him trying to train you into saying sir. Simple, but it got him irritated real fast.
Porco was a strange man, you knew he was definitely not like the other men you've came across in your imprisoned life. Every wound you made on his person, no matter how deep you curled your nails into him or bite down as hard as you possibly could, he was left unblemished. Not even a fading scar or lasting indent, it was as if you've never injured him in the first place.
He bled, the taste of iron familiar on your tastebuds, but it really was like nothing occurred after a few minutes. You knew that he healed fast too, that weird steam came out of the wounds right after you inflicted it from what you could see with the lantern light, but you don't know why it did. Were you so out of touch from the outside for so long that new medical advancements were made?
He also disappeared for short periods of time, leaving you occasionally starving if he didn't leave enough food beforehand and surprisingly bored; he was really your only company nowadays, so it was quite frustrating to come to the conclusion that you'd even miss the bastard despite the shit he's made you go through. Once Porco came back though, he'd be a little nicer to you but that would last for roughly a week once you gotten sick of his company again.
He only sedated you when he needed your complete compliance or when he deemed you too much, your head rolling around weakly as he undresses and bathes you with him in the tub, the heightened sensation of calloused hands brushing against every inch of your skin. You may be out of it, but every other sensation was magnified. It was the only peace the two of you got with each other, even if you weren't a truly willing participant.
Porco was also quiet when it came to this activity, the steam and heat of the tub creating a slight flush on his tanned cheeks as he leaned back against the porcelain. His normally gelled-back blond hair would be damp and falling over his face, expression lax. You thought he was on the completely lankier side before since you rarely see him without the green coat, but no, he was quite muscular despite being pretty slender.
It made sense, he's lifted and thrown you like you weighed absolutely nothing, holding you down without much struggle, and letting you exhaust yourself while he looked completely normal.
He seemed disinterested in each other's nudity, though you did notice the first few times when he started the bathing routine that he took in every little detail of your body, eyes wandering more than usual. It's not like you could've stopped him and he never touched you sexually, only touching your privates to clean those areas. You've accidentally let out a quietly hitched breath here and there when he brushed those digits of his in-between your pussy, your drugged mind struggling to comprehend the feeling. You believed that he never noticed during those mishaps, not bothered in the slightest during it but whenever he got out of the tub first, it was pretty obvious he'd be partially aroused.
You wouldn't say that you were completely innocent in the act of staring at the other either, you've spotted his cock more than a few times and were slightly internally glad that he never took it for a spin against you. He must be a show-er more than a grower (if he was any lengthier hard, you might be in trouble), but he was notably bigger than the other disgusting men you've came across. Thank god for that, at least. It was finally nice looking at a man that wasn't built like a water buffalo in denial of balding and having the smallest dick around.
As time passed by, you feel like you confirmed your suspicions that he never really was interested in using you for any sexual needs, he was more into seeing how much it would take for you to break. Maybe he's done this to others to get his rocks off, but you'd never give into the sick man's perversions.
One thing that was prominent you've noticed while in his care was that he rarely made you do anything by yourself. He's the one that fed you with you on his lap, clothed you in stupidly feminine outfits from the start of the day to the night, bathed you alongside him. He cleaned and dressed any wounds you inflicted on yourself, but left surface scratches and bruises alone. Porco was in complete control and if you didn't let him take the reins, that's when the punishments rolled in.
Balancing books on your head as you stood on your tiptoes, if any of them fell or if you went back on your heels, he'd hit the back of your calves hard with a riding crop and restart the entire thing. Forcing your head over a bucket of freezing cold water, asking you difficult questions with no right answers to them, and pushing you down into it when you said anything that he didn't want to hear. He choked you out and left you intentionally starved for days when you refused to eat what he made, tied up and blindfolded in a tight closet with no indication of how long time had passed because you didn't want to wear what he chose, anything to ensure that you've learned your lesson.
You didn't, of course you never did. Whenever he asked if you had enough, you only just laughed at him and spat at his face, the punishments only ending once he got tired of it. Your stubborn attitude was the only thing keeping you sane in this world of yours.
No matter how much you were forced to endure endless embarrassment and shame, you'll never grovel or beg for mercy, not even shedding a tear for the agonizing pain you felt as you laid on the scratchy mattress every night. And besides, he wasn't the only one who tried and he most certainly would be the last once you figured out how to get out of here.
You felt a jab to your stomach, abruptly waking you from your short rest. The lights weren't even turned on, but even you knew that the next horrid day has just begun, a flashlight blinding you next.
"Morning sweetheart, you know what time it is? It's 3 in the morning, nice and early for our next session. Are you going to be good and let me put your outfit on?" The nicknames only started a few weeks ago, just because you were being obedient and compliant to his demands. It's to make you feel nice, to think that's what you should be doing to get on his good side.
Fuck, he's really insane.
Obviously since you were completely exhausted, you might as well let him take control again until you regained more strength. You nodded slowly, rubbing your eyes as he finally moved the light off of your eyes. He murmured something of a praise, stroking your head gently before going upstairs to retrieve the outfit. You sat there in silence, partially nodding off until you heard his footsteps near the door, body slightly stiffening.
You may not be outwardly afraid of him, but unconsciously, he made you become unintentionally afraid of the new fucked up punishments that he created. At a certain point in this life, it was undeniable not be terrified of something unexpected.
"A friend recommended this new place for women clothes since she noticed I've been in a good mood lately." Porco pushed the door open, a light pink babydoll dress in his hands. "Ain't it nice? Might be better than all the other ones I've put you in, the seamstress really has outdone herself, don't you think sweetie?"
Everything about it looked too short, ruffles and lace making most of the skirt and the sleeves overtly puffy. He may think he's putting you into something cute, but it was obviously something uncomfortable to wear. It's intentionally supposed to make you tick, you knew it was.
"It's..." You started, thinking about how to go around this without sounding offensive. "Pink."
He frowned, obviously expecting more from you but simply shook his head. Alright, that was a somewhat valid response.
"Still tired huh? Yes, most of your clothes are pink, but this one," He placed the dress next to you, along with the undergarments and shoes. "This one is for a special occasion."
Special occasion? A year must've already passed by since he purchased you, it wouldn't be all that surprising if he was celebrating that. You lifted your arms up and let him remove your nightgown, leaving you only in your underwear. Porco removed the dress from the hanger, turning towards you and pulling the dress over your head and arms, organizing it properly over your body.
Definitely too small now that you were wearing it, the bands around the arms making it feel like you were gonna lose circulation on them and your breasts nearly spilling out of the top of the dress, no matter how much he was adjusting it. The skirt was also way too revealing, just barely covering your panties but he soon tugged those off, putting on an even more scantily clad pair. He brushed out your hair, taking a few pieces and attaching a bow with it behind your head. The shoes were just simply white flats, the only part of the outfit that you had no problem with.
"There. Such a beautiful girl, wouldn't you agree?"
He cooed as he stood you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pulling off the drape that covered the mirror. You weren't allowed to use the mirror, that was what he said as one of the rules way back then. You didn't know why he asked that of you, but you've never seen yourself in years anyways, the details of your appearance foggy in each glimpse of a reflecting surface. The basement was dark too, the only sources of light being the flashlight or lanterns that Porco brings down here to see you. But this?
This was the first time you truly felt horrified at anything, bruises of varying colors littering around your skin, most prominently around your neck. You looked sickly, a pale complexion covering your skin, and bone-dead tired, eyebags weighing under your lower eyelids heavily. The only thing that looked decent on you was your brushed out hair and dress, despite how it squeezed at your almost feeble body.
"What... what did you do to me?" Your hands went over your face, feeling your very soul crumple into itself.
Porco snorted, his hand wrapping around your jaw and forcing you to look at the reflection. "Nothing. This is you, all you. The only thing I've done is the bruises but everything else is your fault."
You pushed him back, his body hitting the wooden door with a thud. Tears were starting to well up in your eyes since the first time in forever as you balled your fists at your side. You started wailing, curses slipping through your lips.
"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"
"Y/N—" His tone was becoming angry, a warning.
Porco never said your name before.
You took off one of the flats and quickly threw it hard at the mirror, multiple fragments shattering off the wall. You grabbed the biggest piece that landed on the ground, feeling the palm of your hand cut open, warm blood spilling down your fingertips. Without a second thought, you lunged at your captor. Porco was stronger as he stopped you midway of your attack, but his hands slipped from the grip he had on your bloody hands and wrists, it was almost unnoticeable but not to you.
With the little strength you had left, you gave it your all, letting out a wrathful shriek as you jabbed the piece into his stomach, twisting it in as deeply as you could.
The world fell silent as you watched his blood seep through his shirt.
This was the first time you've looked into his eyes in the light and this close in general, the hazel color showing nothing but displeasure. You heaved slowly, taking in shaky breaths through your nose. Slowly, you released the shard and backed away from his still-standing body, the chain connected to you rattling along on the stony ground with your movements. Your eyes were still locked onto him, impatiently waiting for him to collapse so you can take the key out of his dying cold body.
Yet, that didn't happen.
"You're fucking pathetic, stupid even." Porco's hand reached for the mirror shard embedded in his gut, pulling it out with a slight hiss, as if it was nothing but a splinter. "If only, just only, you remembered that I can heal from any wound that your dumbass places on me, we wouldn't have this issue but I guess I gave your slow little brain one too many hits."
The steam was coming off of him again as he threw the bloody shard pack into the broken pile, your teeth baring at him.
"What the hell are you? Some kind of monster?" He laughed, pushing his hair back with blood, the red mixing in with the dark blond.
"Worse," Porco charged at you with inhumane speed, grabbing your throat and lifting you up in the air with one hand, your hands clawing at his forearm as black spots began to form in your vision. "I'm one of the worst monsters of them all. A Titan."
‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’
You awoke to find yourself in a forest.
Originally, you thought you died. It's been years since you've last seen the outside, even felt the wind's breeze go against your face and feel the rising sun's rays warm up your skin. Yet, as you opened your eyes, you reached out to the grass, feeling the smooth blades brush up against your fingers, you knew you were still alive.
Sitting up, you slowly took in the surrounding environment. Did Porco abandon you because he thought you were dead? A giddy feeling rose up from within, excited about the possibility of finally, finally having the freedom that you've desired for so long. You wobbly stood up, realizing that you were still in the outfit he made you wear, now stained with dried blood. Ugh, at least he should've had the decency to put you back in rags or something before dumping your 'corpse'.
How far were you from the nearest civilization? You'd be lucky if you managed to come across one before either dying of dehydration or starvation, hoping you'd run into an Eldian internment zone rather than a major Marleyan city. Maybe even dying here in the wilderness would be a better death than being around people again, considering that all of them would just disappoint you once more.
There was a sound of grass crunching, small branches breaking from behind you as footsteps drew closer.
"Awake aren't we?" Fuck. You turned around, seeing him standing back at a distance, still wearing his bloody clothes.
"I wish I wasn't now that I know you're here piggy. Goddamnit, why didn't you just fall over and die when I stabbed you?" You grumbled the last half, tugging at the bottom of the skirt dejectedly. From afar, you could imagine that his eyebrow was twitching in irritation once you mentioned the nickname.
"You're so annoying, you know that? It's been a year and no matter what I do to you, you still persist. Still convincing yourself that you can't be broken. You've really ran me dry to figure out what I can do to make that pretty little head internally pop, well, I got one more thing that'll make you finally listen to me." Porco fished out a small pocket knife out of his jacket, holding out his palm for you to see before he sliced the middle of it, blood immediately gushing out.
"I'll give you a 15 minute head start, timer starts when I transform. If you can hide or outrun me, I'll let you go free. No catches, you'll simply be free to walk among us again. But if I find and catch you," A cocky smile grew on his face, pointing the knife down at you. "You're going back to the fucking basement."
Wait. What does he mean by transform?
A flash of blinding lightning appeared abruptly right in front of you, gusts of wind nearly knocking you over. You covered your face to try and shield yourself from the sudden weather change onslaught, the sound of something crunching forming loud in your ears. The light finally faded away after a few minutes gone by, a huge shadow hovering over you instead. Hesitantly, you peered up out of your arms and gaped in horror as you stared at the monster in front of you.
Where Porco once stood, a bony skull-like faced Titan stood before you on all fours, a mane of familiar blonde hair wrapping around its head like a lion. It had a shorter and muscular stature than most Titans you've seen in books before your kidnapping, still towering over you but not as much as a normal Titan would. White-tipped claws on each of its digits were prominent on both its hands and feet, digging into the soft grassy ground beneath it.
What the fuck? What the fuck?! Your captor was the Jaw Titan user the entire time? Is that why he disappeared every now and then? Holy shit, you knew what the Jaw Titan user's dick looks like.
Its small hazel eyes glared down at you through the skull-like mask and you felt frozen to the spot, too afraid to make any move. Was he even still in control of himself in there? A guttural growl came out of it then, snapping you out of it.
Porco's waiting for you to move, he... he wants to chase you down. You have no other choice, and you'd rather put up another fight than to lay down belly-up.
You took off the other flat that still remained on your foot and threw it at the face of the creature, soon dashing as quickly as possible into the lush forest. In your head, you knew your outfit was going to be an immediate sore thumb in the surrounding greens and browns so you started to rip it apart as you ran, trying to scatter the pieces as much as you possibly could to throw off the trail. All you were left in was your thin underwear and even that was a risk to keep on, but it was all you had left to preserve the dignity you were barely holding onto.
As you ran, you felt every stray branch dig into your already-damaged skin and every breath you took in felt like needles in your nostrils. It was better than nothing, better than getting immediately caught by that thing. You don't know how much time has passed since you started running, all you knew was that you must've wasted precious seconds when you gawked at the atrocity of a Titan.
There was a whipping sound and then a thud, trees cracking and breaking behind you. The echo of birds flapping away from the source, cawing in alarm rang loudly in your ears and you felt immediate dread crawl up your spine. Your head start was up, he's coming.
You still ran as fast as you could despite the burning in your underused muscles, trying to find somewhere decent to hide in. An overgrowth, a bush, anything at this point. The sounds of whipping and cracking were getting closer and closer, panic bubbling in your stomach until you missed a step, falling over and knocking the wind out of yourself.
You cried out as quietly as possible once you got air back in your lungs, slowly sitting up with damp dirt clinging onto your bare skin. Taking a glance at the ledge you fell from, an idea popped in your mind. Underneath, it was wide enough to fit your body and deep enough for you to hide in, so long as you could cover yourself up with leaves and dirt. The sound of a gurgling snarl close by meant that you had little time to put your plan into action, and you grabbed the nearby shrubbery in handfuls, crawling into the space as fast as you could.
Laying on your back, your place the gathered materials on your body, completely covered from head to toe. You didn't know how it looked on the outside, but it had to be something that could be overlooked when he was searching around. It had to be because you were not going back, you refused to.
The close rumble of the ground almost had you scream out in terror, but you put your hands over your mouth as tightly as you could, your breaths shaky out of your nose. The thuds grew closer and closer, body jumping with each passing step, and then it stilled. You could slightly see what was going on outside, heart dropping when you immediately spotted him.
The Titan was just standing there, completely still besides his head moving around to scan the area. He must've figured out that your clothing trail had gone cold or that it was fake the entire time, but the one thing you knew was that he was quick to catch up either way. A hissing sound, almost sizzling, broke the silence. You watched as Porco's original body appear out of the creature's upper back, right near the neck.
What. The. Hell.
"You're here, aren't you?" His voice was calm, no hint of frustration or irritation. Porco had too much pride to proven wrong, he was confident that he tracked you in the right spot and you hate that he was correctly onto you.
"Your footsteps stopped not too far from here, y'know. You tryna hide now? Ran out of stamina? Twisted your ankle?"
You clenched your eyes tightly together, praying that he'll give up, that he won't find you. Never in your wretched life have prayed before, but you'd start worshipping the very god that'll manage to make sure that Porco won't look in this shallow cavern.
"Fine. If you don't want to reveal yourself—"
There was another sizzling sound, your eyes opening and seeing that he went back into the body, the creature beginning to move once more. The Titan then opened its bony maw, revealing a second pair of sharper teeth before an ear-bursting screech projected out of it, your hands shooting to your ears to try and cancel out the horrid sound. The scream kept wailing aloud like a never-ending storm alarm, your head beginning to ache. It felt like it was going to pop the longer it went on, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.
Stop it, stop it, stop it!
Silence.
There was a slight ringing in your ears, but the screaming was gone and when you looked out of your hidey-hole, he was no longer standing there. Did he actually give up? You stayed still in the divot, head throbbing and heart pounding against your ribcage. You'll even wait until the next morning if it meant for any kind of confirmation that he was gone.
Suddenly, a claw came down on the roof of your cavern, the sharp tips just barely missing your body. It ripped away the dirt and rock, the sunlight blinding you as you sputtered out the pieces that came down on your face from the removal. Complete fear radiated off your expression as its unnerving mask stared down at your trembling form. You... lost.
You think that its — his — eyes were gleaming with glee right now, seeing how pitiful you looked, filthy and damaged. His hand reached for you, body stiffening as the fingers curled around you, picking you out of the hole carefully. The body of the Titan slumped down and the same hissing sound came out of the back of it, Porco reappearing once more.
"Took me only 30 minutes to find you, what a pathetic attempt of a run," He insulted, leaning his body over the fuzzy head of the creature. "Though, I will have to give props to you with the hiding. I wouldn't have spotted you until you moved in the hole from the scream."
"P-please... make this th... thing stop touching me." You almost whispered, the coldness and rough texture of its grip tight around your body. You hated that you were directly forced to stare at it, its eyes blank but still glaring deep within your soul.
"You afraid of it? You scared of the big bad Titan?" Porco taunted, his arm slightly moving and the grip tightening around you even more. You let out a strangled cry, your breathing becoming erratic. The feeling of the jagged bones jutting into your flesh like squeezing a balloon to its limit, the imagery of your organs bursting out of you, began to make you hysterical.
"Please s-st... stop! P-please! I... I don't want to die! Porco, I'm begging you! Get me out!" You started sobbing, blobs of tears flowing down your cheeks. You hated him, but you hated this monster even more. To think that they were truly real, a true threat to your fragile existence, it was something that was horrifyingly difficult to mentally process.
Porco gawked at your sniveling body, not even trying to wiggle out of the Jaw Titan's hand but still crying out to him for his help. This is what he wanted right? To see you completely give up, to depend on his assistance, to save you. He felt so fuzzy and dizzy on the feeling, almost like he drank too much liquor. Just to play around with you a little more, his hand twitched, causing the Titan to squeeze you even more.
You screamed out in fear once the pressure got even more narrow, your cries resonating louder within the deep forest as you simultaneously begged him to stop. Aw, how adorable but alright, he's had his fun for the day. This might've gotten the message across, let's see how long it'll last or else he'll have to do this again and again if he had to.
"Will you finally listen to me?" He finally spoke up, your teary eyes immediately meeting his and nodding furiously without hesitation.
"Yes! Y-yes I will!"
"And what do I want to hear from you?" You sniffled, looking completely drained of all fight.
"I-I'm sorry... s... s-sir. I wo... won't ever do i-it again."
Porco thought he never felt such euphoria in his life until he heard your apology, a wickedly proud grin growing on his face. He pulled himself out of the Jaw Titan's back, watching the creature start to steam and deflate as he reached for you, peeling its fingers off of your body and helping you down. Unexpectedly, you latched onto Porco once you got on the ground, your arms wrapped around him tightly in a vice hug. You... never did that before.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You repeated over and over again, your tears wetting his coat. "I won't fight you again, I-I promise sir."
His hand reached over to your head, light stroking the tangled strands as you trembled against his body. "That's what you get for being a bitchy brat, you don't want me to do it again right?"
You shook your head in response, gripping onto his clothes even tighter at the thought of being chased by that thing again.
"Then you gotta listen to me better, okay? You listen, no Titan. And now that I'm reminded of your bad manners, you've torn up that pretty dress of yours earlier. That wasn't cheap, you ungrateful bitch. How are you going to make it up to me?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Worry began to fill up your still-teary expression as you pulled your face out of his shoulder. You were taking every insult with a grain of salt, dismissing them completely. "I-I'll do anything to make it up to you, sir."
Porco really wasn't any different from the devil nuisances down in the slums, an excited shiver going through his system. If you're really offering anything, then he might as well get what he deserved out of you, he's been waiting a year for it after all. He lifted your face with one hand, rubbing away a smudge of dirt off of your skin with his thumb.
"We'll discuss what you can do about it later. Now, let's go home and get ourselves cleaned up, you smell like mud and look like shit." Another apology slipped through your lips as he moved forward with your hand in his, the corners of his mouth curling upwards with pure joy.
The animal within you has become neutralized, the flame dying and being left behind with the fading Titan behind the two of you.
Porco finally got what he paid for.
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yeetfanficccc · 19 days ago
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How bout a dance? Wicked Boq x Reader
Authors note- bro 2 fics in 2 days who am I? Reader can be read as gender neutral. I wrote this in one sitting so sorry for any mistakes- enjoy fellow Boq simps (in this house we simp for the simp) AU where Nessa doesn't like him because that's too complicated my guy. Did I give this (Y/N) my kind of oblivious, a bit stupid personality? Yes.
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There he was again. Within the day Fiyero had been at Shiz University, everything seemed to change. Classes felt shorter as students slacked off, the library had books scattered every place a book shouldn’t be, and people were dancing, genuinely dancing, with glee. It was the most fun I’d had in years. I needed more
“He’s kind of cute isn’t he? That Fiyero.” It was a question, but it felt like the most obvious statement in the world. Literally everyone, boys, girls, probably Oz himself, found Fiyero attractive. He was a magnet sucking the world in, and I wanted a taste of what that was like. 
Next to me Boq, my first friend at Shiz, pouted, “I don’t get why everyone is freaking out so much. He’s just some guy.”
If I was being honest with myself, Boq was way more my type. Kinda shy, kinda nerdy, with freckled cheeks, unruly red hair, and a genuine smile. The type to make you feel special. But, I saw how he looked at Galinda, like she was the most beautiful person in the world. So, I resigned myself to the flirty, pipe dream Fiyero. It made me feel less sore inside. 
“Boq, I have a plan. A stupid, crazy plan.”
“You’re implying that all of your plans aren’t stupid and crazy.”
“Crazy I’ll give you,” I smiled, “but not stupid.”
His lip curled, “(Y/N), you thought it would be funny if we told people we liked their hat for a week when they weren’t wearing one just to see when they crumble.”
“The best thing you can take from someone is their reality, besides it was harmless.”
“One guy started crying by day 3.”
“To which I promptly apologized.” 
“Oz,” he laughed, that honey suckle laugh. The one I could never get out of my head. I shot my gaze away. “You’re impossible.”
“Do you want to hear the plan? Or should I find someone else?”
“No,” he shot so fast it sent me back a bit, “I’m your guy. I’ll do anything for you. We’re a team.”
I ignored the heat rising on my face, “you know how a bunch of people are going to the OzDust tonight?”
“Yeah…?”
“And you want to get Galinda’s attention?”
“I did. But now I don’t know. Things have changed.” He wouldn’t meet my eye when he said the last bit. I frowned. 
“If you’re worried about Fiyero don’t be. That’s my part of the plan.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“We pretend to be in love, so much so that everyone is jealous of how desirable we are. Fiyero and Galinda are the type that need the spotlight. So, they will each see us as their ticket back to the center of attention.”
“You want us…. to be in love?” homeboy looked dazed. 
“Only pretend of course! Just until our respective person sees how great we are.” 
“I don’t think this plan will work.”
“Do you not think we can convincingly be in love?” I questioned.
“No. We can do that.” And there went his eye contact, “I just don’t think we can convince Galinda and Fiyero to be with us.”
“Maybe you’re right. Sorry,” I deflated, “I was just really zoned out and this idea came to me”
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t try… for research.”
“Really! Boq you’d do that for me?”
“I’d do anything for you…” this time, his eyes meet mine. Brown, like fine Earth melted in amber. I felt a stir in my chest. No, too complicated. Fiyero is brainless, fun- way less emotional investment. That is, hoping this plan worked. Which I definitely wanted!
“See you tonight!” 
That night, the OzDust
The OzDust was more magnificent that I imagined. Music swirled in the air, as crowds huddled around a gleaming dancefloor. Every color of the rainbow, and then some, was fashioned into skirts, suits, and corsets moving in rhythm. 
Boq wore a red velet suit as I dawned blue. Opposites, that somehow end up together.
“(Y/N), you look so stunning,“ Boq grinned his smile lines even up to his eyes, “like a painting or something.” Damn he’s a good actor.
“And you are the most handsome munchkin boy I’ve ever seen.”   
“Just munchkin?”
“Okay fine. Most handsome boy, no superlatives!” I teased bopping his nose. This clearly surprised him, but he quickly went with it. 
“My angel” he leaned in to kiss my cheek. I nearly fainted, the heart palpitations were back with a vengeance. Do it for the bit (Y/N). Do it for the bit. “Am I doing a good job?” 
His whispered words made me remember this is all an act. But he had such a puppy dog smile, like all that mattered was pleasing me. Damn… no Fiyero think unobtainable Fiyero. 
“You’re doing great. But I don’t think we’ve gotten their attention yet. Permission to turn it up a notch? If this is making you uncomfortable though, we can stop.” 
“I’m not as shy as people think I am, not when I’m with you.”
“Well then, let’s dance.”
“Let’s” he reached out his hand. 
The song was upbeat, fluid. Boq took me in his arms and glided me around the dancefloor. I felt like I had wings and was zooming through the clouds. 
“Is this, okay? Am I dancing too fast?” Boq asked. 
“No, you’re perfect.”
“Well then, I’m turning it up.” He laughed, “get ready (Y/N) (L/N), we’re going turbo mode.”
His goofy smile turned to a devilishly handsome grin. He spun and held me to the song perfectly like it was a big, rehearsed dance number. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so alive, so free. And it was all because of him. Just then, the song turned more jazzy, low, seductive. The notes caressed my ears as I could feel Boq’s hot breath on my cheek.
He dipped me. Something within me snapped, I leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. Warm honey.  Once I realized what I did, I pulled away, 
“I’m so sorry. I got caught up in the moment.”
“(Y/N), I can’t keep lying to you. I like you, like a lot. I’m sorry if that ruins things but-“
“No. That ruins nothing. I like you, like a lot too.” My heart raced.
“But what about the plan?”
“It was a stupid and crazy plan. I only liked Fiyero because I needed a distraction. I haven’t even talked to him. I like you, this whole time I have.”
“Oh.” Boq blushed. It sent me to heaven.
“But I thought you liked Galinda. So, I didn’t think anything would happen with us.”
“I did. But then you came along and showed me I’m good as I am. You make me so happy.” 
“Boq, you are so sweet.”
“Can I be sweet… as your boyfriend?”
“Yes!” I shot, “please.”
“I’m sorry your plan didn’t work.” he placed a hand on my cheek, "you were so excited about it. It was really cute actually..."
“To be honest, I don’t think Galinda or Fiyero looked our way once. They were too busy with eachother… and themselves. It was a bad plan.”
"Or maybe you were secretly seducing me this whole time and playing mind games to make me jealous." Boq baited.
"Boq, I'm about as dull as brick when it comes to you how would I have found the sense to play mind games?"
"For the record, I was jealous when you wouldn't stop talking about how attractive Fiyero was."
"Now you now how I feel when you wouldn't shut up about Galinda when we first met!"
"It was a phase! A weird, weird phase."
“Well, I’m glad. Because now I have you. And you're stuck with me.” I gave him a light kiss on the cheek, he turned someone even redder.
"If you think I was kind of weird and obsessive about her, you have no idea how much I yapped about you whenever you weren't around."
"My handsome, silly Munchkin boy...."
We danced the rest of the night in each other’s arms, holding on to the joy in our hearts.
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exactlycleverpirate · 10 months ago
Text
Wholehearted
Apparently today I woke and chose pain.
Rafayel x F MC fanfic. Angst. Hurt, no comfort (I lied, there is a little comfort at the end, should you desire it.) Spoilers for myth and possibly other Rafayel content. Short (660 words).
This is what I wrote instead of finishing the Abysswalker x MC nfsw fluffy fic I am over 3k words into.
“Amund! No! What have you done?!”
Rafayel ran to catch his lovely bride as she fell, but too late. Much too late. The wicked dagger jutted from her chest, just where he'd indicated a fatal blow could be struck when they had flirted and teased as he'd trained her so many months ago. Now the jest had turned to brutal reality.
“It was her request, Your Quintessence,” Amund insisted, sounding satisfied, perhaps even smug.
Rafayel felt sick as the blood seeped around the wound and stained her dress. The dagger was ironically preserving her life, stemming the flow, but he knew it couldn't be for long. She was dying, and he could do nothing to prevent it.
He pressed his forehead to her, tears coming in choking gasps, turning to pearls before they hit the sand. Her eyes fluttered open to look at him, barely clinging to consciousness.
“Why?” He sobbed, brokenly. “You told me not to give up. You told me there was still hope.”
“You were running out of time,” she whispered, fingers shaking as they lightly traced his cheek. “If I waited, it could be too late.”
It was true, and he knew it. His fire had grown dimmer and dimmer by the day. But he never thought…
“It was supposed to be me,” he cried, hugging her gently, feeling her warmth bleeding away. “I don't want it back. My heart belongs to you. Please, please, don't leave me.”
“I love you,” she whispered. Then the light of her eyes dimmed, her hand fell, and she was gone.
“No! No, don't go! Please, don't go!” But his screams fell on deaf ears. 
Power surged from her body in a flash of light, before rushing into his own chest. He could feel a vitality he hadn't felt in millenia surging through his veins.
Winds whipped across the sands, and with a great rumble, waters sprung up in mighty fountains. Distantly, he could hear a roar of jubilation as his people realized what was happening.
The God of the Sea was whole. The oceans were returning to Philos. No more would the Lemurians watch helpless as humans plundered their treasures.
The waters soon swallowed Rafayel and his lifeless bride. She looked ethereal as she floated in the blue, red fanning out in a deep stain around her.
“What a liar.” He whispered, fingers caressing her cool cheek.
For the first time in well over 30,000 years, Rafayel was whole, his flame reborn. 
He had never felt more empty, more cold. 
There would be no next life to get it right. The heart that had brought her back to him time and again had been returned, just as the prophecy demanded. There would be no more waiting for her. No more looking into lovely eyes that saw him as a stranger. Not even death would be a respite for him, for the seas would bring him mercilessly back, life after life, devoid of the only one who made it worth living.
In one swift move, the God of the Sea had regained his heart…and lost it forever.
***
“Rafayel!”
He woke with a gasp, eyes burning, cheeks stained. He looked around wildly, trying to understand what was happening. His skin felt clammy and sticky, his chest heaving for air. 
“Rafayel! I’m here. You're safe.”
That gentle voice, that beloved voice, and her soft hand against his cheek, stroking over the tear tracks. He pulled her forcefully into his arms, burying his head in her neck and inhaling deeply. Warm. Whole. Alive.
“I’m here, love,” she cooed, running her fingers soothingly through his hair. “I’m here. You’re safe. It was just a bad dream.”
He placed his hand against her chest, and but for a gasp of surprise, she didn't protest, cradling his hand against her. He felt the thrumming of his heart in her chest. He released a shaky breath.
Surely, she was right. Surely, it was just a dream.
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