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simp-ly-writes · 14 days ago

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My Love Mine All Mine

─────── · · Skyfall (pt.2)

Pairing: Alexander "Jackal" Duggan x Fem!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Alex had stayed in your apartment, he stayed in your heart, in your mind and took over every aspect of your life. So much so that you feel empty at his lack of presence after weeks... but is the "Jackal" every truly gone?

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, depictions of blood, gore, guns, and violence, usage of pet-names (ex. love, sweetheart, etc) swearing, fluff, HEAVY angst, hurt/comfort, dark romance, mentions of stalking , threats, and obsession.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 3,226 | PART ONE

─ · · A/N: This gets... kinda dark... hope you all enjoy lol

─────── · ·

You new that the Alexander you grew up with, played with, fought with (and bullied), was not the same man that was currently waiting for you in your bed. But you could see glimpses every time you touched and saw him smile.

Sighing and pressing your forehead against the wet tiled wall, you let the shower head rain down on the scalp, soothing your on-coming headache. You watched as the blood dripped off your hands, the stains on your tiles removed and sanitized before you shut off the water and stepped out onto them.

Patting yourself dry, you took a look through your smoky mirror and looked down to see parts of what looked to be prosthetics in your trashcan... what the fuck kinda job has Alex gotten himself into... and did I even wanna know? You thought to yourself before putting on your pyjamas and throwing your scrup's into the washing machine as your haired dried.

Checking the clock in your kitchen, it was nearing 4:00 AM as you groaned and started to pick at your salad before a voice was calling from the bedroom... it was like work never left you as your few minutes of sitting had you now rushing to the bedside.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, flinging the covers off and searching for any changes, you pick up his chin, inspecting his eyes and feeling around his head before shaking your head as he smiles, "It's been 10 minutes."

"Oh fuck off, Alex. I'm eating. You're a grown man, just wait," you lecture him, throwing the covers back on and shutting off the light. You feel his stare as you leave, stomping back and reheating the kettle again. You watch as it bubbles as you stretch out your back and shoulders. Tonight is going to be a LONG night....

Getting into bed beside Alex felt like deja vu from the sleepovers you could have at his house in order to escape your family... it felt natural how his arm snuck about your head and the way that your fingers intertwined with one another.

"Do you love me?" Alex asks, catching you off-guard. You contemplate your answer, your head not sharing what your heart speaks, "yes." He sighs out contently, "I love you too."

You listened to his breaths even out as you laid there awake... waiting for what you did not know but you stared at that rifle in your hallway, discarded in favour of... you. The metal gleamed in the moonlight, capturing its cold essence that had you shivering underneath the blankets. "Go to sleep, love," a groggy tone called out from behind you, a kiss being planted to your shoulder that has you forcing yourself to relax. Who am I laying beside?

─────── · ·

When you have woken to the sunlight coming through your sheer blinds and a record being played in your living room, you were rising in a moment, forgetting to place your slippers on as you padded your way down the hallway and towards the kitchen where an Alex was cooking eggs and pouring out coffee.

"Morning, sleepy," He teased, picking up a mug and giving to you. You warmed your hand, closing your eyes to feel the smoke upon your face before bending to look around your old friend, the dishes were done... "Thank you, A. You didn't have to do those, I mean you are injured," you say, giving him a pat on the arm before gently shoving him away to finish the cooking.

─────── · ·

By the time your done and turning back around, the sniper rifle is disassembled all across your dining table as you place plates around its pieces. Looking at the various compartments as Alex cleans them, you take a seat across from the man, watching quietly as you sip your drink and cross your legs.

"You'll need to take another dose of pain relievers with your meal in the next half hour," you say as he only nods, continuing his... work. "Alex," you call out softly, this time he looks at you, eyes waiting as they dip towards your lips and up again.

"Yes, love?"

"I...hm, why come to me now?" You ask, foot tapping underneath the table, anxious for a proper answer. You watch his nose wiggle slightly as he stares at you, "don't lie to me, Duggan."

"I wasn't planning on it," he tries to gaslight you. "Bullshit," you call out, "I know you, Alex. If you like that fact or not. And I know when and how you lie no matter what fucked up shit you put yourself through to end up like this at my doorstop. So I'll ask you again, why. are. you. here?" you ask more coldly this time, eyes sharp and cutting through the masks he tries.

He sighs, setting down the muzzle in his lap, "I knew that you could... help. I have been keeping tabs on you, making sure your safe-"

"And why wouldn't I be?" you say with a glare, "I know the profession I choose has its faults, but what are you not telling me, Alexander?"

"I just need to know it for my own sanity. I need to know where you are, who you're seeing, what you're doing day by day," He says- you start feeling sick, that coffee rising up in your throat- burning. "My work... it does not work out for people who know any part of me and I know that you know the most... and I know that I don't have it in my to remove you so I must watch instead."

"Remove me?" you raise your voice slightly, standing, chair screeching against the wooden floors, well there goes my security deposit... Alex continues, disregarding your statement.

"But thats not your question, what is it I do? Well I am a contractor. I take a job, whatever it takes, and provide my services in exchange for cash." You slowly blink, walking further and further away as he looks more comfortable and confident in his seat- as if he has you right where he wants you.

"And that involves, a gun and being shot at?" you counter, hands shaking as that little boy running around your mind blends in with your darkest of thoughts. You can feel his blood dripping down your arms again, feel his kiss on your neck.

"Yes," and with such a simple word it can have you falling over and coughing, gripping your shirt. Alex stands, walking over and crouching, rubbing your back. For a minute you accept the soft touch before shoving him away.

"You could ruin my career, fucking everything I've worked for if you're seen with me! You kill people for money!" your mind swirls with all the news articles and announcements that play in the lobby. You grip your head, everything I worked for, gone. You look up with dead eyes mirroring his own cold and calculated ones. "Yes. I kill people for money. But I also protect. That's why you are going to help me and make sure I'm not seen," Alex tells you, hands gripping the knees you bring up to your chest. You nod watching as he smiles, "thank you, love." You now hated that word.

"Now, where's those meds?" He helps you to stand, following behind you and moving into the bathroom, deja vu again... as he sits on the bathtub, throwing his head back with a glass of water before you check his stitches and clean up the minor cuts across his hands.

He watches are yours tremor still, he holds them, bringing them to his face as silent tears stream down your cheeks. He shushes you, pulling you closer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "Everything's going to be fine, just let me do everything and you, take care of me."

─────── · ·

Your morals were out to kill you, was all you could think while running around your usual shift as you treated the never-ending wave of patients and their problems. Your eyes burned from your unrestful sleep, your heart hammered in your ears and you stumbled into the break room and crashed against the table. You should have not taken that call-in...

You took an oath to helping the people, to helping the public and providing care and assistance. But that oath was coming after you as you entered back into your apartment as Alex was holding a plank with his shirt off. "You know what I'm going to say," you begin, slamming the door closed and kicking your boots off.

Alex doesn't even look your way, just staring at an imaginary dot, his form unwavering. You scoff yet your eyes still check his side, wincing at the bead of sweat that nears your work, infection! screaming in your ear as you head towards the shower. "Can I join you?" Alex is drying the sweat off his chest, smiling down at you. "No."

─────── · ·

As time would go on and until Alexander was fully healed. You had made zero progress on understanding any more details to his work as he somehow knew everything about you, ordering in your favourite take out, knowing just how you liked the bed made and just the right ways to hold you after work.

You felt pathetic in his touch, you knew what those hands did, what they were coated in as he played with your hair and kissed your temple with a smile. You hated the way you started to relax into his embrace and how a small part of you looked forward to his company at the dining table but that was just it... company, that you desired...

So the hurt you felt for loosing yourself combined with the lingering loss of his presence as you had not seen Alex in weeks. The last moment you shared together cuddling in bed before a kiss was planted to your forehead and he was gone, not a trace of himself left in your apartment.

Taking a day off at work, you decided to treat your own loneliness as you put on your eye-liner and flattened your dress against your form with a sigh, breathing in your perfume. All you needed to do was forget it ever happened, pretend it was all in your imagination...

You had lived without Alex for nearly three decades... the rest of your life could be a walk in the park if the guy you were meeting up with tonight clicked. James Ferdinand Vanderbilt, He was an art auctioneer and philanthropist, charming you with his smile and words when attending one of your hospitals charity auctions.

He was well-off, could support you and a future family. He was estranged form his family, building a name for himself and his own business and had multiple college educations. Locking the door behind yourself and calling for a cab, you looked out the window, skies were clear with a light wind, the long daylight hours offering its light as kissing of warmth against your face as you closed your eyes. Whatever happens tonight happens...

─────── · ·

Arriving to the venue, James was already waiting outside for you as he placed a kiss to each of your cheeks. You smiled, holding his arm as you both walked into the restaurant and got lead upstairs to a private table. "Thank you for organizing this, James," you say sitting down as he pushes you towards the table before taking off his jacket and letting it hang off the back of his chair.

He pulls his sleeves up to his forearms as you view the tattoos on display, a symbol of a snake in a circle sparks a memory you can't seem to remember as you smile at one another. "It is really no worries, I wanted us to have privacy and you some peace. I know how hard your profession works." you nod and smile before turning your head down to the menu, James orders you both a bottle of wine to start as you make small talk.

Sharing favourite vacations, movies, and things you like to do in your spare time. You find James to be a bookworm and surprisingly, an ex-military officer as he points to his tattoo. "I thought I had seen that symbol before," you extend your hand, hovering over the ink as he chuckles. "Got family or friends in there now?"

You pause for a second, your smile wavering as he takes your hand, eyes soft, "you don't have to answer that, sorry that was rude of me. I have a few... friends deployed right now is all. Its hard, I know," he says as you nod again, not finding the right words before he thankfully moves conversation on. Yet a little birdie keeps pecking at your head, telling you that something is not quite right as the meal progresses.

You take a look out the window, squirting through the sunbeams glare. "Everything alright there, love," your head snaps over at the last word before you settle your features. "Sorry, thats what my... ex used to call me."

"I am really making a fool out of myself tonight, I do apologize-"

"No! Its me, I'm sorry about this all. My minds just elsewhere with work and-"

"Its mutual then?" He offers with a hand as you grab it and laugh softly, "yes, mutual fault." You both continue to dessert as you try bites off of each others plates. You have been enjoying yourself, watching as Jame's eyes have not left your face the entire time, your cheeks warm from the booze in your system.

"I don't want tonight to end," James starts to say as he picks of the bill and offers you his coat. You shrug it over your shoulders, bringing to stand, "who's saying it-" but before you can finish your sentence you hear a scream, ears ringing as glass shatters, and then your realize that scream is coming from yourself as James lies head down on the table, a bullet through the side of his head.

You rush over to his side, looking over the scene and feeling around his head. His blood is bleeding all over your hands, covering your dress and skin... he's not going to make it, as you scream from an ambulance to be called. he's not going to make it, you feel his last breath against your arm.

You cry, shaking, confused, scared. You turn to look outside the window yet can't see anything. A voice screams out to you, everyone is running outside the restaurant. You rip your dress and run, nearly falling down the stairs, knocking your head against a wall before kicking off your heels and making a dash for the back exit

Your vision is blurry as you run through the narrow space and off onto the street. Cars are swerving, trying to get out of the way as blaring lights come crashing onto the scene. You look like an absolute mess, you can feel the blood staining and hardening against your skin, forming gloves that you cant remove as you scratch at them and sob.

You fall to your knees at the corner of the road, you shake your read, James, James, James, you say on repeat before being picked up. You thrash, scream as a voice calls out to you in an even tone, "Hey, love. Shhh, it's alright, its over now. We can go home, the job is over. Thank you for being so good, thank you, my love," they speak into your ear as they dash with you in their arms, an officer points you both in the direction to medical staff.

You feel him nod and as soon as their head tips back to the crowd, you are being turned in the opposite direction. You feel overwhelmingly tired as you grip their shoulders, feeling a suit underneath your fingers tips. "James?" you call out only to hear a scoff, "Alex." the voice tells you off that has your mind jumpstarting.

"Put me, the fuck, down, Alexander Duggan." he hisses, "shut up, don't say anything."

"I'll fucking scream your name out for everyone to hear!" you threaten, being carried into another alleyway you recognize to be behind your apartment building.

"I would love that on any other occasion, love. But not when I'm trying to remove myself from a scene," Alex retorts. Entering through the shipments door and taking the cleaners elevator before setting you down on your feet, keeping an arm around your waist as you place your spinning head against his shoulder with a groan. He unlocks your apartment, you can't be bothered to know how he got a key and bolts the door behind you both before carrying you to the tub.

The Irony, you shake your head, looking down at your hands before Alex grips your chin, forcing you to look upwards. "No," he commands you, "don't look," he says before kneeling before you and helping to wash off what remains on your arms. You silently cry as he shushes you. "You're alright now, all safe. I could not believe it was you with my target. I swore that if I had known, I-I would have waited-"

"waited," you whisper. "yes, waited, love."

"Don't call me that," you spit out.

"But it is what you represent to me," Alex explains, now wipeing down your face and examining where the glass shards cut you. A part of him looks physically pained seeing you wounded. "Are you hurt?" you ask, mind on auto-pilot with the question.

"Not physically," he explains before grabbing your medical kit. "I can do it myself-"

"No. Let me do this... please," please? You think to yourself, as you watch his cold eyes stare and dress your face and hands. His touch on you if feather-light as if worried of damaging you anymore, like he hand't damaged you before. "okay," you whisper, feeling him kiss your forehead, "thank you." You shiver.

─────── · ·

You lay there in bed, staring up at the ceiling fan, unmoving, unfeeling. You hear Alex speaking to someone over the phone followed by a dozens zeros and a "...job well done." You stare, not even looking as Alexander walks back into the room in new clothes, a bouquet of flowers by your beside as he crawls into be beside you.

You feel numb... had already called in to work telling them you were taking an extended leave and left it like that... the news would be covering the "developments" of your story but you would be the only one in the world force with this truth that came into the form of kisses down your neck and curly hair tickling your cheek.

The truth whispers into your ear like a vow as you tilt your head towards the window and look outwards to the world, "Let the sky fall, when it crumbles, we will stand tall, face it all together." Yet his words contrast the melody playing through your apartment from the stereo in the living room.

You close your eyes, becoming enveloped by the darkness as their arms surround you...

"'Cause my love is mine, all mine I love mine, mine, mine Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love, mine, all mine, all mine.."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: I have another Jackal fic coming out soon! (thank you for the ask ;) )

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wysteria-bloom · 1 year ago

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honkai star rail x f!reader - random prompts

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

warnings : none! :) sfw

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

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

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

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

He was definitely an odd one…

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t budge.

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

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

It was weird.

He was weird.

But fuck, was it adorable to you.

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

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

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

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

“No problem.”

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

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

Maybe even one of his own.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm…”

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

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

“My legs will die.”

“… a small price to pay.”

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

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

Prompt : ̗̀➛Sampo teaching [Name] how to kiss

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to buy… a-advice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…. Do I really have to answe that?…”

“Yes, please.”

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

“Hmmm… I dunno…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sound good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And you are my damsel," He whispers.

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

"My princess." He echoes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nobody else called him. Not even March!

Why did you have to be different?

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

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

That stupid grin.

That stupidly charming grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He heard your clothing shuffle, you must have shrugged.

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

Dan Heng was quick to interrupt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I take it back... you're annoying.”

"Cute."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…I have actually imagined a few times…”

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

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

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

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

“I-I feel—”

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

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

"Yeah?" She breathed out.

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

He paused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ckret2 · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 24 of human Bill Cipher being the Mystery Shack's extremely inconvenient prisoner, featuring: the Pines figuring out a way to chase off Bill's ex-girlfriend... who happens to be a giant eyeball with bat wings.

It kinda goes like this.

(A head's up before we get going: this chapter is a bit more mature than prior ones, so I feel like a warning's in order. There's no sex, and nothing here is erotic or sexy (unless you, too, happen to be attracted to eye-bats), BUT there IS some academic speculation on the logistics of alien sex, and some very filthy-sounding dialogue describing acts that, to humans, aren't sexual at all. Plus some dirty humor and toilet humor. And nothing here is what I'd call billford quite yet, considering Ford still very much hates Bill's guts—but like, he's definitely a little too obsessed with the anatomy of triangles for it to be normal. If any of this is too spicy for you, skip this chapter and come back next one. We'll be starting a new "episode" then.)

####

It was past midnight. In his search for the eye-bat repellant recipe, Ford had flipped through every notebook he'd used during his initial interviews of the residents of Gravity Falls, flipped through them a second time, torn apart half his bookshelves looking for any reporter's notebooks he might have accidentally sorted in with his larger binders, and now he was exhausted, frustrated—and, worst of all, bored out of his mind.

Which made it hard to avoid thinking about more interesting topics.

And for the last hour he'd been unwillingly plagued with the question of how an eyeball and a triangle had a "casual physical thing."

If that didn't mean sex—and you never knew with aliens—then it was still something close enough to fill the same social/recreational niche. It certainly meant sex on the eye-bat's side, Ford had fully documented the reproductive cycle of eye-bats, that was sorted out—but triangles?

It had to be something that would work in the second dimension. Ford had visited a two-dimensional universe populated by geometric shapes, he knew roughly how their bodies functioned: a shape's perimeter was its external surface—its "skin"—and its internal organs were inside that perimeter. So if Bill was still configured the way he had been in his home dimension, any external reproductive anatomy would have to be somewhere on his perimeter, right? Maybe at one of his corners? Or camouflaged where the seams of his brick pattern reached his edges?

But then if Bill were a normal two-dimensional person, he'd have his eye on the edge of his body, not right in the center of his "internal organs." So he'd been rearranged to some extent. Who knew how the rest of his body worked now? His top hat contained flesh and a skeletal structure; maybe it was a removable reproductive organ that could be passed to a partner, like some cephalopods' detachable tentacles—

Ford flinched as he realized Bill was staring at him.

To aid in his anatomical speculation, Ford had drawn a diagram of Bill in his journal and labeled various points on the triangle that might be concealing reproductive anatomy. He quickly scratched out the drawing's staring eye and slammed his journal shut.

He'd happily gone thirty years assuming that Bill had no sex life—Bill was an energy being who presented himself as a floating featureless triangle, his hobbies involved cheating at chess and discussing multidimensional transportation, he probably wasn't designed for "physical things," and if he was designed for it then surely he wasn't interested. Ford was not pleased to have his assumptions disputed.

Because the thing was—Ford knew more than any living human about the mating rituals of unicorns, werewolf/mermaid couples, stomach-faced ducks, and tentacled warrior piglets. (Did he ever know about tentacled warrior piglets.) He had the only photos of a gnome mating ball, which he didn't need, because that horrible sight would be forever seared into his long-term memory. He knew the names of twenty obscene acts in siren sign language, and knew how to use his extra fingers to make them extra obscene. This wasn't unfamiliar territory to him. He was curious about how strange, supernatural creatures functioned; and those functions included how the reproductive drive influenced their behaviors; and a living triangle that had escaped from the second dimension was certainly a strange supernatural creature.

But, unfortunately, it was also Bill Cipher. And Ford did not want to think about what Bill did in bed. ... Assuming he used a bed. Really, at this point the only thing Ford knew was that Bill's only admitted partner was capable of flight. Maybe he just hovered while he—

Ford slammed his journal shut again to stop himself from scribbling down more theories, then stuffed the journal in a desk drawer for good measure. Did normal people think like this? He had no idea. He didn't even know who he could ask.

Enough of this. Back to searching for that eye-bat repellant recipe, and this time he wasn't stopping until he found it.

####

Like a vast eye in an upside-down triangle, the circular center of the portal lit up so bright blue it was almost white. The four energy vents glowed in sympathy. A rainbow constellation lit up in twirling patterns around the central light.

Bill watched with bated breath, a second-dimensional shadow waiting for his door to the third dimension to open. The cavern walls shook; the ground quaked and rumbled ominously; Bill didn't care. The portal was stable, the lab was somebody else's problem, and Bill had a party to get to.

The steel beams supporting the cavern rolled like a wave, and Bill's stomach roiled with them. They weren't supposed to be able to move like that. But he knew what he was doing, the portal was stable, he was not here to destroy this world, he'd come here to save it, whether it wanted to be saved or not—

The whole world undulated. Bedrock and steel were not built to undulate. Bill bobbed on the energy wave like a toy boat on a choppy sea; but the steel shattered, rock crumbled, shrapnel and rubble sprayed out. There was a peal of deafening thunder as the world below him cracked apart.

####

Bill woke with a gasp.

Oh. Right. Dreams.

Dream diary. With a groan, he sat up, checked to make sure no humans were coming by in the next few minutes, and pulled his stolen journal out of its hiding place.

The guide on lucid dreaming had recommended writing down his dreams in full, vivid, rich detail—any people or scenes or events, anything he could detect with his five (?) senses, as much as he could recall.

He drew a portal—gray inverted triangle with a center circle, four circles around the triangle, all five circles filled in yellow green—and then a yellow green line trailing out of the portal's side that grew progressively wigglier like a seismogram. He labeled his doodle, "this." He'd remember the rest.

After a moment of thought, he wrote, "Don't remember if I was a human or a shape. My organs were doing things a shape's shouldn't." (He wrote "human" as 人; there was no translation for the word in the language Bill wrote in. The two angled strokes stood out in Bill's rows of Morse-like dots and dashes.) "Being around so many humans who are CONVINCED I'm trying to destroy their world must be getting to me. Sixer pitched another hissy-fit about the portal yesterday. Enduring all that negative talk can't be healthy for me. I know I'm just helping their boring little planet, but maybe their accusations are getting lodged in this stupid brain's subconscious."

Maybe he should meditate a bit—go think positive thoughts, drown out the mortal voices that insisted they knew his plans better than he did. He'd had enough dreaming for one night, anyway.

Beneath the note to himself, Bill added in English: "Everything would have been fine if you'd just let me finish, Fordsy." If the humans ever did find this journal, Bill was determined to get the last word in.

Then he stowed away the stolen journal and shuffled downstairs.

He wondered how much was left of Ford's portal.

####

Old man bladder. Stan dragged himself out of bed. The other guest room bed was empty. Stan hoped Ford was sleeping in his study—he'd mentioned once he kept a cot down there. Better than pulling another all nighter studying alien sorcery or whatever.

He skipped his glasses, groped his way to the downstairs bathroom, and, yawning, lined up with the toilet.

The toilet said, "Pretty forward of you, Stanley."

Stan screamed.

He stumbled backwards out of the bathroom and hit the wall. Bill flipped on the light and leaned out to grin at him. "Careful! You're due for a broken hip any day now."

"BILL! What are DOING!"

"Trying not to get urinated on."

"Jsh—shut up!" It had dawned on Stan that if he could hear Bill without his hearing aids, then half the house probably could too. He hoped no one had overheard that. "Why are you sitting on the toilet in the dark!"

"It's a free country, Stanley Pines."

Stan raised a fist. "GET OUT!"

Bill bolted from the bathroom like a scared rabbit, then caught himself, rolled his eyes, and raised his hands over his head in mock surrender. "You could have asked nicely!"

Pointing at Bill as he retreated, Stan added, "And stop being so darn creepy! Lurking in the dark and sneaking around silently all the time, like a... some kind of—burglar ninja assassin!"

Bill turned to shout back, "What, do you expect me to make a peace cry every time I walk around? Make sure I can't sneak up and stab you in the back?"

Stan had caught about half of that. "YEAH, smart guy! It might help!"

Bill flung his hands out in defeat as he rounded the corner.

Stan finished his business, went back to bed, and glared angrily at the ceiling another ten minutes.

####

It had taken half the night, but at last Ford had disassembled the filing cabinet and found a few notebooks that had gotten stuck behind the bottom drawer, including the one with Old Lady Sprott's eye-bat repellant recipe. Ford copied it down, left a list of ingredients on the gift shop cash register for Soos, and finally dragged himself into the house to sleep.

And paused in the entryway.

Bill was sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window; Ford had seen him like this before. Usually, he could make himself walk by.

But he couldn't tonight. Maybe it was yesterday's conversation still weighing on his mind, the loose ends they hadn't tied up tangling around his throat. "What are you doing up?"

Bill's voice was inappropriately calm: "Dying."

Ford's guard went up. "Do you... Literally or metaphorically?"

"Literally," Bill said. "Hey—how many decades do you think this body's got? Probably not even a century, right?"

Ford's guard went down. Just moping. But it was an interesting question, one he'd put some thought into himself—what age had Bill's body been made at? How had his body been made that age? How long would the body last? Ford had wondered whether studying Bill's freshly-made-but-already-adult body might reveal anything medically useful about how aging affected the human body; but the odds of convincing Bill to participate in any medical studies—much less finding someone to conduct the study who believed their story—were nonexistent.

Ford said, "At a loose guess, I'd put you around... fifty, maybe? A very spry fifty." Bill's hair was a shockingly vivid gold, not a hint of gray, and when he was in a good mood Bill bounced about with an enviable lack of joint pain; but Ford had seen faint, delicate creases around his mouth and eyes that spoke to age. And the look in his eyes... Ford hated the phrase "old soul"—he'd been called that by some of his school teachers, and it only made him feel the distance between himself and his age peers all the more strongly—but with Bill, it was uncannily fitting. His eyes aged his whole face.

"You think this thing looks fifty? Wow." Bill took a deep drink from a cider can. "Shooting Star's best guess was half that. Thanks for shoving me twenty-five years closer to the grave."

Half that? When Ford had been a child, he'd had a harder time guessing adults' ages, and he supposed Mabel might be the same; but it was difficult to mistake a 50-year-old for a 25-year-old. Maybe there was something else going on. He'd have to ask her later. "With exercise, a healthy diet, and a little luck, you could still live another fifty." Ford nodded at the two empty cider cans already sitting on the table. "With your current drinking habits, I'll give you five."

Bill cackled—loudly enough to make Ford tense up, afraid someone would catch them talking. "Cheers!" Bill finished off the can and slammed it down with the others. "Ugh. Finite lifespans. Awful."

"Welcome to being human," Ford said dryly.

"'Welcome to death row,'" Bill said. "Ha! What'm I doing, worrying about decades. Let's be real, I don't even need to worry about the next five years. If I haven't found a way out of this body before then..."

Bill left the thought unfinished. An uneasy weight formed low in Ford's stomach.

"Ah, whatever. Like you'd let me live that long. Right, Sixer?" Bill pushed himself up unsteadily, keeping his balance first with a hand on the back of the chair, and then on Ford's (suddenly very tense) shoulder as he passed him. "I'm going back to sleep before that last can kicks in."

The way Bill was walking, Ford wasn't sure he'd make it up the stairs. "Why don't you sleep on the folding bed in the living room?"

"No window," Bill said. "I've g—" (He stumbled on the stairs.) "I've gotta see the stars."

Of course he did. When Bill said it that way, it was so obvious Ford didn't know why he hadn't realized that himself. Where else could Bill sleep but as close to the sky as possible?

Ford listened as Bill stumbled his way upstairs, creaked across the floorboards, and collapsed onto his makeshift bed.

Ford had thirty years left. Exactly thirty years. Don't have a heart attack, you're not ninety-two yet! Ninety-two was a good, old age. Older than his father had been. But thirty years felt too soon. And yet it felt fitting, somehow, for his life to be divided so neatly in thirds.

If Bill lived another fifty years in this body, and Ford lived thirty, who would stand guard over him? Would he and Stan have to pass that burden on to their gniece and gnephew? Or to Soos and Melody?

Why was he wondering—what made him think they wouldn't find a way to kill Bill before then? What made him think he wouldn't kill Bill before the end of this very summer?

What made him so sure Bill hadn't been lying about when Ford would die? Thirty years felt too soon; but ninety-two felt flatteringly optimistic.

Ford sighed, and picked up the cider cans to recycle.

He wondered whether Bill—hiding from his ex, fretting about death, sleeping on his enemies' floor—regretted how he'd spent his life.

####

Bill's second entry in his dream diary started, "Wet dream about Iris."

He filled most of a page with an extremely graphic summary before he sighed in frustration, stowed the journal away, and stared at the ceiling as dawn crept in. Well. Terrific. He was pretty intimately familiar with how humans coupled, but he didn't have much practice with the solo act. Plus the humans would give him heck if they caught him at it. He'd just have to suffer.

So here he was, all riled up and nowhere to go.

Who else could he make miserable?

####

Stan was startled awake by a heavy pounding on his door.

"Heeey Fisherman!" Somehow, Bill's voice was even more grating at dawn. He rattled the door several more times. "Just passing by! Wanted to let you know! Here I am! Right here!"

Did that demon ever sleep? And, follow up question, could Stan knock him out for a few hours?

Ford—who must have come up after Stan went back to bed—groaned and muttered something.

Ford wasn't nearly as loud as Bill. Stan reluctantly sat up and put a hearing aid in. "What?"

"What the devil is he up to now."

"No idea," Stan lied. "Go yell at him about it, he listens to you."

Ford sighed, but got up and left the room.

A minute later, Stan heard Bill exclaim, "I can't win with you people!"

He smirked.

####

The kitchen reeked that morning. When Stan came in for breakfast, the window was open, a fan in the entryway futilely directed fresh air into the kitchen and a fan on the kitchen table directed the noxious fumes outside, there were bags of groceries on the counter—he noticed hot sauce, peppers, cheap perfume, and an entire bag of raw onions—and Ford was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of vile-smelling brown liquid. The moment he saw Stan, Ford put him to work stirring the pot so Ford could start dicing onions.

While they worked, Ford explained the situation with the eye-bat harassing the tourists and the solution he'd hit on to drive it away. Soos had collected the necessary ingredients this morning, but couldn't help cook because he was busy finding a way to block the bottomless pit—

####

Outside, Soos scooted a trampoline up to the pit, carefully lined it up with the edge—the trampoline and the pit had nearly the same diameter—and shoved it in. It plummeted into the dark. After a short wait, Soos chucked a baseball down the pit. It disappeared, then bounced back up.

Soos pumped his fist triumphantly. "Aced it."

####

—so, Ford was working on the repellant, and in the interest of public safety and the greater good he was drafting Stan into helping too.

Which Stan supposed he couldn't argue with, but considering the smell he would've preferred dicing the onions. "Is all this really necessary for one eye-bat? I usually just swat 'em off with a tennis racket."

"This eye-bat happens to be large enough to carry off a first-grader," Ford said. "And Bill claims it's his ex-girlfriend, so I don't want to risk them meeting."

"Huh." Weird thing to date, but then Stan didn't know what he did expect a triangle demon to date. "Somehow I figured he was tangled up in this."

Ford laughed ruefully.

After a moment of chopping and stirring, Ford said, "Speaking of Bill—he claims that you ordered him to announce his presence? And that you tried to pee on him."

"I did not and he's a dirty liar! He made the whole thing up!" Stan didn't expect Ford to believe him. Stan also didn't expect Ford to believe Bill. Ford knew they were both liars. What Stan expected was for Ford to side with the person he liked best.

"Uh huh." Ford didn't question Stan further. Ha. Pines solidarity.

Even though he'd already won, Stan went on: "All I did was mention how quiet he is! I can never tell where he's lurking. Sometimes I almost forget he's here." In Stan's mind, Bill had been rapidly demoted from "active existential threat" to "annoying houseguest who blends in with the shadows." Watching him help Mabel cut pretty pictures from fashion magazines with plastic safety scissors drained away most of his intimidation factor.

Ford gave Stan a funny look. "Really? I can't forget he's here for a second. Sometimes I swear I can tell where he's been in the house—like a cold spot left by a ghost."

Stan tried to figure out how to ask whether that was a reaction to decades on the run feeling like hunted prey—which Stan knew how to cope with—or a lingering magical side effect of Ford and Bill's alien possession deal—which Stan did not. Then Ford added, "It's probably because I hear him bumping into the furniture all the time."

"Oh. Yeah. That's probably it. You've got better hearing than me." Case closed. Stan turned back to the stove—

A deafening buzz made them both start. Stan splashed boiling brown stink across the stovetop. "What—!"

Standing in the doorway with a kazoo, Bill said, "How's that, Stanley? Do you like that better?!"

"YOU!" Stan flung the stirring spoon to the floor.

Bill bolted from the room with Stan in hot pursuit. "Whoa! Mercy! Truce! You can have the kazoo! It's not even mine, I'm just holding it for a fr— Ow ow OW ow—"

Stan hauled Bill in by the back of the neck and didn't let go until he was in the middle of the kitchen. He pointed at the spoon, then pointed at the pot. "Pick it up. Get stirring." He grabbed another knife and joined Ford chopping onions. Whew, what a relief.

Bill gave Stan a perplexed look, but picked up the spoon, gave the pot an experimental sniff, and got stirring. He didn't even wince at the smell. "Is this the gnome wizz? What is this, punishment for not letting you use me as a urinal?"

"Whatsamatter, I thought you were the one who thinks pee belongs in the kitchen."

"You're both too old for toilet humor," Ford snapped. "Bill, this problem is your fault, the least you can do is help prepare the spray, and you're not getting a knife, so you're on pot stirring duty. Deal with it."

Bill rolled his eyes dramatically. (At the moment, they were both uncovered; but one was already half squinted shut against the morning light.) "Fine, but only because I like hanging out with you."

Ford scoffed.

"And I don't see how this is my fault just because we happened to date. It's not like I invited her over," Bill went on. "If anything, you should be grateful she's my ex, or else I wouldn't be helping you chase her away—"

"Hey, that's what I wanna know about this," Stan said. He gestured toward the window; the ex in question was currently circling above the gift shop entrance, like a vulture waiting for something to die. "Exactly how do you 'date' an eye-bat? Just—how does that work?"

"Well, it depends on the eye-bat, doesn't it," Bill said, a touch patronizing. "They don't all have the same tastes, you know. But she happens to like art films and water parks. Easy date."

"I'm not talking about that! You're telling us you slept with an eyeball with bat wings—right? That's what we're talking about, right?" From the corner of his eye, Stan saw Ford giving him a sharp look, but he didn't tell Stan to stop. Yeah, the nerd was curious, too.

"Yes, Stanley." Bill's condescension was almost more overpowering than the kitchen's stench. "That's what we're talking about. I 'slept' with an eyeball with bat wings." He exaggerated the finger quotes around the euphemism. "Any more prying you want to do into my personal life, or...?"

"You look at that freak out there and think it's appealing?"

Bill stopped stirring and squinted out the window. Flatly, he said, "Yep. She's still drop dead gorgeous. Thanks for asking."

"How do you even know that's a she! How can you tell a girl eye from a boy eye?"

Ford said, "Technically, Stanley, all eye-bats are female." He held up an onion and used his knife tip to gesture at it like it was a model eyeball, "They're parthenogenetic parasites that reproduce by attacking other species' faces and depositing egg-bearing spores on their eyeballs, which swim to the tear ducts to begin incubating. Over the next few weeks, the infected eyeball grows wings and develops its own nervous system while the host slowly goes blind in one eye, until the new eye-bat is mature enough to emerge from the host's socket and seek out her mother's colony—"

Bill let out a strangled scream. "Enough!"

Stan and Ford stared at him.

"Would you stop talking about eye-bat sex?! I'm already riled up! I don't need help making it worse!"

He slammed the stirring spoon down and started pacing. "I'm losing my mind. Do you know what it's like to be randy for something you don't have the right body for?!" He gave them a pleading, slightly crazed look. "I need to feel her pupil contracting against mine. I'd lick her hot, salty tears off her sclera. I'd bite deep enough to taste her retina. I want to look like I've got pinkeye from all the bat spores coating my face. I'd give my right eye just to have one of her wings fingering my eyelid again—but if I cave and go that far I know I'd lose my head and give her the left one too, and then I've screwed up, because STUPID HUMANS BODIES can't regrow their STUPID EYEBALLS—"

He kicked the wall so hard he lost his balance and stumbled back into the stove. "Ow. I'm going insane. I can't take it. I need to kill somebody. I need to set something on fire."

Stan and Ford were petrified. Stan's jaw had dropped.

Bill was panting from the exertion of his outburst, arms trembling, face flushed. His shoulders slumped. The picture of a broken man, he said, "I'd do anything to rim her optic nerve again."

Ford let out a strangled noise.

Bill took several deep breaths. He rubbed his forehead. "Sorry! Wow. That was... I think the fumes are getting to me." He shook his head. "The fumes and the hormones. Human hormones. You know, your species has very insistent..." He gestured vaguely toward the doorway. "I'm—think I should lay down."

Stan and Ford nodded. Bill trudged from the room. A few seconds later, Stan heard springs creak as Bill flopped his full weight on the living room sofa.

Stan and Ford exchanged a look. Stan said, "I shouldn't have asked about..."

"You shouldn't have asked."

"You should have skipped the science lesson."

"I should have."

They lapsed into silence. After a moment, Ford stood up to take over stirring the pot.

Stan resumed chopping onions. "Say, d'you think he staged all that to get out of stirring?"

Ford didn't reply.

"Sixer?" Stan glanced up.

Ford had turned away from the stove, and was staring at nothing with a faraway, troubled look. It was the look he got when he'd just latched on to some mystery that would haunt him until he solved it.

"Ford—?"

Ford slapped down the spoon and stomped into the living room. "But you hate losing your eyeball! So how did you two— I mean—! The spores—?"

"Incompatible biology." Bill's voice sounded muffled. "It's why we never got serious. She wants kids and my tear ducts can't incubate wings."

"Ah! Of course. That makes perfect sense." Ford returned to the stove with a look of triumph.

Stan didn't know how Ford had recovered from that fast enough to ask follow-up questions. Weird nerd. Stan shook his head but said nothing.

####

In Ford's journal, he scratched out most of his speculation about the anatomy of Bill's species, scribbled over the diagram, and added, "I severely underestimated how much his eye is involved."

####

At one point, during Weirdmageddon, when Bill had been torturing Ford for information, Ford had spat in his eye. Bill had licked it off. He'd seemed eerily undisturbed.

Ford would probably wonder how Bill had interpreted that act for the rest of his life.

####

Outside, dressed in a homemade hazmat suit consisting of painter's coveralls and a scuba mask, Soos faced off against the eye-bat, a spray bottle strapped to each hip like a cowboy's revolvers. Dipper and Mabel stood behind him, armed with a rake and a golf club, wearing a bicycle helmet and a football helmet with tree branches taped on. The eye-bat stared them down warily.

Leaning on his elbows over the kitchen table so he could stare out the window, Bill said, "Bet you a hundred bucks she steals Questiony's hat."

Stan snorted. "I'm not taking that bet. You don't have any money."

Bill grunted and turned back to the window, just in time to see the eye-bat dive for Soos's face. Soos whipped out one of the spray bottles, dropped it, ducked down to retrieve it just as she swooped past where his head used to be, and lifted it in time to spray the eye-bat when she circled back to attack him again. She reeled off screeching, eye watering, pupil contracting. Bill winced in sympathy. Poor gal. And she didn't even have an eyelid for protection. But, hey—better for her to suffer than for Bill to risk getting caught in this body. He'd take someone else's pain over his own embarrassment any day.

"It seems to be working the same as it does on any other eye-bat," Ford said. "Good. Once she's gone, Soos and the kids can spray the rest on the roof. That should drive her off while keeping the worst of the scent away from the tourists."

Streaming tears, the eye-bat dove at the kids. They yelled in alarm. Dipper threw his rake at her and missed. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to squint at the battle with both eyes.

"What, do you see something?" Stan asked.

"Just appreciating her sphericality." Bill sighed wistfully. "That spray's gotta be excruciatingly painful—but, I've never seen her that wet before. Sure, we've fooled around with a little hot sauce a few times, but even then—"

"I'm sorry I asked."

Outside, Soos shouted, "Hey! My hat! Give that back!"

Bill wordlessly held a hand out toward Stan.

Stan smacked it away. "Nyeh."

As the eye-bat retreated toward the forest, Ford sighed in relief. "She's gone. It worked."

"You sound surprised," Bill said.

"Frankly, I can't believe that you gave us accurate information on how to get rid of her."

"What! You wound me! Why would I lie about that?"

"To trick us into doing something that strengthens her? To arrange an opportunity to meet her?" Ford suggested. "After all, as one of your Henchmaniacs, she could have helped you escape."

Bill's blood ran cold.

She could have helped him escape. SHE COULD HAVE HELPED HIM ESCAPE! He'd been so worried about not looking stupid or losing his eyes, when all this time—! He could have signaled Iris from the window, and—and the bottomless pit was right there, she could have carried a message to the gang—at the very least, she could probably open doors for him—and instead he just—when he could have—

He watched in despair as Iris's pretty little optic nerve vanished behind the trees.

No, Bill decided—no, getting her help was a terrible plan. If it was a good plan, he would have done it; so it was terrible. He had a better plan. What was his better plan?

"Come on, you think I need her? I've got all the pals I need right here—whether you're ready to admit it or not." He elbowed Ford. Bill had decided he'd wheedle Ford back over to his side, and he would. His survival depended on it. Now more than ever. "I've got a way out, don't worry about that—it's only a matter of time—and she's not part of the plan."

Ford scoffed. "Really. Last night you were moaning about being on death row."

"Wh—Hey! That was..." Not fair. He scrambled to revise his story.

"You're lying about something," Ford said. "If it wasn't how to get rid of her, then it was why you wanted to get rid of her. For all we know, maybe she wants you dead as much as we do."

"Yeah," Stan said, "the 'girlfriend' story sounds crazy enough to be true, but you seem like the kind of guy who has a string of exes who'd love to kill you." (He did, as it happened, but it wasn't his fault he kept falling for petty jealous psychos who hated seeing him thrive.)

Ford said, "If she hadn't been a danger to the tourists, perhaps I should have invited her in to talk."

Unbelievable. Even when Bill did exactly what he was supposed to, he was still the bad guy. "Fine, she was a notorious black widow and you saved my life, happy? Do you like that story better? I made it up just for you." He jabbed a finger in Ford's shoulder. "You know what your problem is? You're too paranoid. You can't trust anything anybody says. You'll only hurt yourself like that—"

Ford shoved Bill's hand away and stepped out of poking range. "I spent years unlearning the paranoia you gave me. And when I finished, do you know what I figured out, Bill? All along, there was only one person I shouldn't have trusted: you."

It stung, but only in a distant, impersonal way; like a hard slap on a numb cheek. Bill turned to give Ford a sour look. "At the lengths you take it to, I could tell you the sky is blue and you'd have to check."

Ford's gaze automatically flickered toward the window.

"Ha!" Bill angrily shoved the table against the wall as he stood up. "Thanks for taking care of my pest problem, boys." He stormed upstairs, flipping his hood up as he went. Ingrates.

####

The view out the attic window was more interesting than usual, mainly because there were three humans traipsing around on the roof spraying eye-bat repellant. From time to time Mabel came by to make funny faces at Bill through the glass; he did his best to one-up them. Once, Soos nearly fell off the roof and died; Bill hadn't laughed that hard since he was murdered.

Their return indoors was heralded by Mabel shouting, "Dibs on the shower!" and Dipper replying, "I take shorter showers, let me go first!" They pounded up the stairs. Mabel tried to take them two at a time, tripped near the top, and by the time she recovered Dipper was already in the bathroom. She groaned. "Augh! Not fair! I don't want to smell like onions and gnome pee!"

"Neither do I! I need it more, I haven't showered in two weeks!"

Bill wondered why Dipper got to go so long between showers without getting dumped in a cold tub in his sleep. (He knew why.)

Bill whistled to catch Mabel's attention. "Consolation prize." He waved a cheap perfume bottle toward Mabel. "We had leftovers after mixing the repellant. It smells like strawberry candy."

"You're my hero." Mabel took the bottle and sprayed it all over herself, in her hair, and under her sweater. "You need a shower too, you know."

"Sure, but until Dolores fumigates the kitchen I'll just blend into the background stink. I can put it off til tomorrow without anyone complaining."

"You're grossss." Mabel emphasized the hiss by poking Bill's arm. "Once I'm clean, I'm not talking to you until you've showered too."

"I'll be devastated."

"Those are my terms!" She kicked aside Bill's cushion-bed so she could sit under the window without stinking the cushions up, and settled back to wait for the bathroom. After a (very short) companionable silence, Mabel said, "It's too bad we had to chase off your ex. I can see why you like her."

Bill gave her a surprised look. "Can you?"

"Iris was so graceful!" Mabel said. "And murderous, but mostly graceful. Like an evil swan."

Bill laughed. "Yeah! Yeah, she is. Floats like a dream. If you think she's graceful in the air, you oughta see her in the pool. She's the only person I know who can make a cannonball look elegant."

Mabel gave him a sly grin.

"What?"

"Look at you. Yooou still like heeer." Mabel propped her elbows on the edge of the window seat and balanced her chin in her hands. "How did you meet Iris?"

For the last couple of days, almost everyone in the house had talked about Bill's ex like she was some kind of malevolent creature, rather than a person. He was used to outsiders talking about his friends that way—heck, most of his friends were malevolent creatures—but it grated all the same. (He missed home.) Just hearing Mabel call Iris by her name was a breath of fresh air. No one else had even asked if she had a name.

"I met her at a party," Bill said. "I'd just gotten a piano and was showing off, and she came by to ask about Earth music. She wasn't in my crew then—but the party was open invite, and everyone in that corner of the Nightmare Realm knew that if you wanted info on Earth, you came to Bill Cipher. So, we talked about waltzes and tarantellas, I played a little Beethoven, we hit things off..."

They talked until the bathroom was free and Mabel went to shower. Sweet kid. Hopeless romantic, though.

When Bill got out of this place, he was gonna find the first boy who would break her heart and kill him before they could meet. It was the least he could do for her.

####

The third entry in Bill's dream diary: "Shooting Star's cartoon is getting to me. I dreamed about the wolf and the cat arguing over who had to host someone's birthday party. The wolf refused to let guests into his enormous mansion, but the cat's house was burning down. They asked me how to resolve this. I told them the cat should execute the wolf as punishment for his inhospitality, take over his mansion, and wear his skin as the party host. The animals were so in awe of my wisdom that I was deified as god of the jungle."

That was not what he'd dreamed. The animals were so horrified at his suggestion that they'd tied him to a stake and forced him to watch as they threw the cat into the flames of her own house. He couldn't remember whether he'd dreamed that he was a triangle or a human.

He preferred his version. Once he'd regained control over his dreams, he could replay this one and make it end properly.

He'd get the hang of this in no time.

####

(You're legally required to tell me if you had a reaction to this one. Even if it's horror. Especially if it's horror.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #ford pines #grunkle stan #stan pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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starryevermore · 10 months ago

Text

the house of snow (8) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: sejanus crosses a line.

word count: 5,961

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: scheming sejanus, jealous!coryo, angry!coryo, arguing, threats of execution, pet name (petal), not proofread

Thank you for the invitation. Though it was signed by Coryo, I imagine that you are the one who advocated for my presence at tonight’s opera. I appreciate that you hold our friendship in such high regard. That is why I write to you now. Ma has already confirmed our attendance for tonight, but I was hoping that I might be able to speak to you in private. During intermission, please meet me—

A knock at your door startled you out of your thoughts.

“Are you nearly ready?” your father asked from the other side of your door.

“Just a moment more!” you called out, hurrying to return the letter to its envelope. You rose from your seat at the vanity, sparing a glance at your reflection to ensure nothing was out of place, before tucking the letter in your trunk at the end of your bed.

When you reached your door, you took a breath. Your father was a perceptive man. If he saw your nerves were jumbled, he would have questions and you could not handle questions at this moment.

Your father smiled as you opened the door. Then he frowned, glancing around the room behind you. “Where is your lady’s maid?”

“I dismissed her after I finished getting ready. I wanted some time to go through my correspondence.” It was perhaps best to tell the truth in that regard. What your father didn’t need to know what that you were just reading the one letter, over and over and over again, trying to surmise if it was real, if there was a trick being played against you.

“I should hope you were not writing any replies. The last thing you need is to get ink everywhere.”

“No, Papa, I was only reading them and sorting out which ones needed to be replied to first.” Well, that was a lie. But it was harmless enough. You hoped.

When you received Sejanus’s letter in the mail, it confused you. You were never the sort of friends that wrote to each other. It certainly would have been presumptuous if you had. But when you read the contents of the letter, learned of his proposed plan, it only served to confuse you further. You had spent the entire day reading the letter as your lady’s maid pinned your hair into an elaborate updo, applied your makeup, and even as you dressed. You were half sure that if you read it enough times, Sejanus himself might materialize to tell you it was all just a clever joke. That he didn’t really mean it. You knew Sejanus well enough, though, to know that he was quite serious about these sorts of things.

Your father nodded, then extended his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his arm and allowed him to guide you downstairs. He was silent for a moment while you walked, but when he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped.

“Is there something wrong?” you asked. Had he already caught on to your ruse? Would he demand to see the letters and know that there was only one? Would he tell Snow?

“I wanted to thank you for your cooperation,” he said. “I know this match was not what you hoped it to be, but I swore when you were born that I would do everything in my power to ensure that you are taken care of for life. You may not have gotten the love match you wished for, but you will be marrying into a reputable family with the resources available to provide you the best life imaginable. His Majesty will take care of you. He will be a good husband to you.”

“You cannot possibly know that.”

He sniffed, then conceded, “No, I suppose I don’t. But His Majesty was incredibly persistent. He had been asking for your hand for some time—”

“What?”

He blinked, as if he was surprised you didn’t know. But how could you? How could you have known? “When you graduated from the Academy, he asked for your hand. I suppose he hoped for you to join him on base while he served as a Peacekeeper. That certainly wouldn’t have been an appropriate life for you, so I told him no. Then when he returned, he asked again. I told him I wished to see him prove himself to be a worthy husband for you. I never imagined that he would become King, of course, but it was a pleasant surprise. A welcome one, really, all things considered. Just before the season began this year, he asked again. I had no reason to tell him no, except that I wished for him to properly court you before we reached any firm agreement.”

You did the math in your head. If what your father said was true… “I’m four and twenty. If he has been asking since I graduated, then he has wanted to marry me for five years.”

“Longer, I presume. He already had a ring when he asked for your hand the first time.” He looked down at your hand. “The same one, if memory serves well. Cleaner, though.”

That…You didn’t know what to do with that. How long had Snow been vying for your attention? Even with Sejanus’s revelation that Snow’s feelings for you had been genuine, you assumed it was a recent development. Certainly not something that extended back to your schooldays. Had the bickering always been one-sided? No, that couldn’t be…

“We hated each other in school. We tormented each other,” you said, more to yourself than your father.

But he laughed as if you spoke to him. “Sometimes, boys are mean to the girls they are interested in. Any attention is better than no attention, in their eyes.”

“I don’t know what to do with this,” you admitted.

“Know that you will be loved. I have never seen any man be so dedicated to something, someone, for it not to be done out of love.”

Downstairs, the butler announced Snow’s arrival. Snow entered the room, his blue eyes immediately finding yours. Your father moved to start down the stairs, but you remained planted firmly in place. A question nagged at your mind. If Snow had been asking for your hand for five years…

“Why did you act like I had to convince Snow to marry me when the season started? If you all but promised him my hand?”

His eyebrows raised. “My little dove, you have never done what you were told. If I said that you were to be wed to His Majesty, you would have all but runaway to avoid it.”

“But why act like it was my responsibility to get his attention? To throw myself at his feet when he already wanted to marry me?”

He was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Finally, he settled on, “If you thought that you were serving your family by pursuing His Majesty, I had hoped that you would have seen his intentions were pure and good. It might not have been a love match in the traditional sense, but it would not have been a loveless arrangement.”

Nothing, you thought, about Snow was pure and good. “My fate was already set in stone. It didn’t matter what I did, you would have married me off regardless.”

“Don’t put it like that, little dove—”

You dropped your father’s arm, gathered your skirts, and walked down the stairs alone as Snow moved to wait for you at the bottom. A smile grew on his face as he watched you. It looked so genuine. You supposed it was.

Snow held his arm out to you as you reached the last few steps. You slipped your hand into his, letting him guide you down the final steps, before holding onto his bicep when you reached the ground floor.

“I like that color on you,” he said, eyeing the blue fabric.

“You should. It took Tigris hours to find the shade closest to your eyes.” Your mother was insistent that, as the future Queen, you should build your wardrobe to complement your future husband as much as possible.

“I shall send her my compliments then. Are you ready to leave?”

You nodded.

“Good. We shall be riding alone this evening. Will that be alright?”

It wouldn’t have mattered if it did. Everyone else in your life was making decisions for you. Choosing what was best for you without ever asking what you wanted. What you desired. But you were angry at your father. Angry at both of your parents, because you were sure your mother knew something about this, too. Angry that they both would keep this from you instead of just telling you that you were to marry the King. You might have respected their decision more if they had.

“I should kill my parents if I have to spend a moment with them tonight.”

Snow blinked. “Should I be concerned?”

“If you value your life, then you shouldn’t be.”

At that, Snow let out a huff of a laugh. “To kill the King would be treason.”

“Is a threat worth the same weight?”

“I would imagine so.”

“Then string me up at the gallows.”

He shook his head at you. He looked amused, like he didn’t take your words seriously. He probably thought you were just bickering to get on his nerves like you always did. “I would make an exception for you, petal.”

You turned your head, looking back up at your father, who still stood at the top of the stairs, dumbfounded. You turned back to Snow. “I wouldn’t kill you, for what it’s worth. As it turns out, you are the only person who has been honest with me recently.”

A frown settled on Snow’s face. “Is everything alright?”

You rolled your tongue over your teeth, contemplating whether you should tell him or not. It would be nice to vent, even to someone like Snow. But you didn’t wish to do it in front of your father, the source of your ire. And you weren’t sure you wouldn’t cry if you did talk about it. “I don’t wish to ruin my evening any further. Shall we go?”

Snow looked you over. Seeing nothing that would demand his immediate concern, he said, “We shall. But if you change your mind…”

“I will tell you if I do.”

The ride to the opera house was quiet. You weren’t sure if Snow was silent because he was giving you the space you asked for, or if he was concerned that your ire might soon turn on him. But he held your hand the entire time, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. Ordinarily, you would have been annoyed at the action. It was merely another way for Snow to exert a level of control over you. This time, however, it brought you some modicum of comfort.

“I invited the Plinths per your request,” he murmured.

That should have lifted your spirts, but it only made your stomach churn. You couldn’t let Snow know that, of course. As hard as you fought for the Plinths’ presence, he would be less than pleased if you revealed you wished he hadn’t extended the invitation. “Thank you.” You squeezed his hand, more for your comfort than his own. “I appreciate that.”

Even if you didn’t appreciate it in the moment, you probably would appreciate his willingness to abide by your wishes in the future (though, you supposed you did have to coerce him to do it).

Snow smiled and squeezed your hand back. “And I appreciate your vivaciousness. Even if it makes me want to pull my hair out.”

“That would be a shame,” you said before you could really think.

“What?”

Well, you already got this far. You might as well finish the thought. “The nicest part about you is your hair. If you pulled it all out, you wouldn’t have anything going for you.”

Snow laughed—a genuine laugh. “If my hair is the key to gaining your affections, then I shall be sure to not pull it out.”

You laughed, too. It was…odd. How light you felt with Snow now. Though you still objected to how he asked for your hand, how your father gave you no choice in this matter, it was different knowing that Snow might not be doing all of this as some way to spite you. To get back at you for all the fights you had with him over the years.

The pit in your stomach burrowed deeper. If Snow found out about Sejanus’s letter, Sejanus’s plan, you could not imagine it ending well. Any semblance of goodwill he held for you could be ruined in a matter of minutes. Would you be set up for a miserable marriage if you withheld the information from him?

“Snow, I—”

The carriage lurched to a halt. Your words died in your throat as the door opened. Snow stepped out first, then held a hand out for you to take. He helped you out of the carriage, his hands settling on your waist as you gained your footing. Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling.

As you moved to take Snow’s arm, he asked, “Would you like to wait for your parents or would you like to go our seats?”

You glanced back, seeing your family carriage in the distance. The idea of seeing your father again made you grind your teeth together. “Let’s go inside.”

Snow led you to one of the Lord’s Rooms where you would sit in the upper balcony of the opera house. It had been some years since you had been able to sit in one of the Lord’s Rooms. Since your time at the Academy, you supposed. These seats were saved for the upper echelon of the Capital’s elite. While your parents certainly were wealthy and titled, they could not quite afford such expensive seats. Truthfully, for a long time after the war ended, only the King and some dukes could afford it. It was only in recent years that marquesses, earls, and viscounts could begin sitting there again.

You took a seat front and center of the Lord’s Room, Snow taking the seat to your left. A smile tugged at his face as you tried to not let your jaw fall slack.

“Are you pleased with the seats, petal?” he asked.

“It’s perfect,” you admitted, because it was.

When you looked over at him, his smile had grown, his chest ever so slightly puffed out. Oh, he was proud of himself for this. You supposed he should be. If he had been vying for your attention for as long as your father insinuated, you imagined there was no limit to the lengths Snow would go to make you happy.

“Good.”

You were curious, though, to the lengths that Snow would go. “What would you have done if I was displeased?”

“Erect an opera house to your exact specifications.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. To suggest such a thing was absurd. You were an intelligent young woman to be sure, but you hardly had the education required to design an opera house that both functioned as necessary and would not topple over in a gust of wind. “Then we should be thankful I am content here or else we might have to test the limits to the royal family’s protection from liability.”

Snow waved that off, though he still smirked at you referring to yourself as part of the royal family. “I would send anyone who would even think to sue you to the gallows.”

“So protective,” you teased. There was silence, for a moment, as you looked at Snow. Conversation was flowing easily, with none of its usual bite. Perhaps talking about your conversation with your father would be nice. To at least alleviate the stress you carried in your shoulders. “I am upset with my papa because of you.”

And that, perhaps, was the worst way to begin the conversation when you saw the way Snow’s smile turned into a frown. Oh dear, he probably thought you were trying to pick a fight. “I beg your pardon?”

“What I mean to say is, at the beginning of the season, when it was announced you were seeking a bride, my papa told me that I had to do whatever it took to win you over, even sacrifice my ideals. He made it seem as if it was something I had to do for the family. I refused, of course, but that did nothing to stop you from seeking me out. I wondered why for a long while, spent a long time convinced it was because you were trying to get back at me for all our quibbles over the years. But then I remembered Sejanus had told me that you were interested in me when we were children.”

Snow’s jaw ticked at the mention of Sejanus, so you quickly continued before he could spit some vitriol about your shared friend (for now, at least).

“That made no sense to me at the time he told me, of course, but the longer we courted, it started to feel real. Then, this evening, my papa told me that you had asked for my hand three times before. That you fought with me because you liked my attention, not necessarily because you had substantial disagreement with me. And when I asked, he said he lied to me about my needing to sacrifice my ideals to win you over, because he knew that I was already going to be your bride by the end of the season. I cannot respect a man who withholds things from me.”

“I apologize if I disrespected you, but—”

“Not you, my papa. It is clear now that, as far as this season was concerned, you had always made your intentions known. I can admire that. But my papa…I don’t know if I can trust him again. Or my mama, because I am sure she knew something about it, too.”

Snow considered you for a moment, before admitting, “If I had known you were kept in the dark, I would have told you. I assumed you knew I had spoken with your father and that that was part of the reason you kept fighting me. Telling me that you would rather marry anyone else but me.”

“No, I was, for once, clueless.”

He reached over for your hand. You allowed him to take it. “Well, you can rest assured that I will not let you be clueless as long as I can help it. We are to be partners in this marriage. There is no one that I could trust more to run this kingdom and raise our family than you.”

Your stomach twisted. All of this talk of honesty…It made you feel ill. You knew you should tell Snow about Sejanus’s letter. If he ever found out, any trust he had in you would easily be broken. You imagined he would lock you away in the palace, never let you see anyone but the staff and the heirs he would have you produce. And Sejanus…You shuddered at the idea of what Snow would do to him. It would make isolation look kind, you were sure.

Knowing you had no other choice, you tried again to tell him. “Snow, I wish to tell you one more thing—”

You were cut off by the sound of Sejanus greeting you and Snow. You prayed you did not look as ill as you felt.

“You look radiant this evening,” Sejanus said to you as he came to your side. Oh, Sejanus, he should not say those sorts of things. Not in front of Snow. Not when you knew how he felt.

Snow rose to his feet, dropping your hand. It was the polite thing to do as a gentleman, but you knew it was more a power play than anything else. And, though Sejanus towered over Snow, something about the way Snow held himself made him seem like the giant. “She does, doesn’t she? It must be the pre-marital bliss.”

You ignored Snow. Well, if you couldn’t tell Snow about the letter now, you might as well make polite conversation until the next opportunity arose. “Thank you, my lord. You look quite dashing yourself. Did Tigris design your suit?”

“She did,” he beamed. Oh, Sejanus, don’t smile at you like that. “She is the only one I trust to not make me look like a fool.”

“Funny,” Snow muttered.

You looked at him, your brows furrowed together. Was he trying to suggest Sejanus was a fool? Did Snow know something you didn’t? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he somehow already know of the letter? “What is?”

Snow blinked, as if he hadn’t expected you to hear him. A smile twitched at his lips. “You had said something similar, once.”

“Ah. Well, she is the best. Many people feel quite strongly over her,” you said. You smoothed a wrinkle on your dress. All of the kind talk between you and Coryo made you feel uneasy now that Sejanus was here. “It must be infuriating to know people like Tigris while they tolerate you.”

“Don’t be cruel,” Sejanus chided as Snow’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Don’t join in on the teasing. It will only make things worse.

“But it’s so easy.”

Sejanus took the seat to your right. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Snow’s hands flexed, as if he was restraining himself from lashing out at Sejanus. Knowing that no one could see your face but Snow and Sejanus, you allowed yourself to roll your eyes. The corner of Sejanus’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. In any other circumstance, you might have been laughing with him at Snow’s expense. This all felt too confusing for you—something you would rather attempt to process in private rather than search your feelings in the moment. So you moved to the edge of your seat, propping your arm against the railing, leaning your cheek against your palm. Snow, as he sat back down, reached for your other hand, and you allowed him to take it. Jealous little thing, he was. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind.

The performance soon began with little more spoken between you, Snow, and Sejanus. Mostly talks about your upcoming nuptials, which made it feel like a knife was being twisted in your stomach. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that Sejanus was trying to be cruel. Sejanus, though, was something of an angel, and you were sure he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Perhaps that was why you were so nervous about this. You knew how Snow would read Sejanus’s actions. You knew it would be far from good.

You tried to push those thoughts away as the performers sang. It had been so long since you had been able to go to the opera, and you wanted to enjoy this moment. Snow would likely bring you to more performances, but just in case, you wanted to have fun while you could. Yet, Sejanus could not leave your mind. He felt entirely too close. It was almost suffocating. And when you dared to glance at him from the corner of your eye, and you saw the way his hand was placed on the arm of his chair, his palm face up, you felt ill.

So ill, you could not stand it.

When you dropped Snow’s hand, moving to leave the Lord’s Room, Snow rose to his feet. “Is everything alright, petal?”’

“I’m not feeling well. I just need to step outside for a moment,” you said.

Sejanus, too, stood. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, don’t do that. Don’t give Snow anymore reason to get upset or concerned.

You waved Sejanus off. “It’s too stuffy in here. I just need a moment.”

Snow watched you, his brows pinched together. You again wondered if he could read your mind, if he knew what you knew. Or perhaps he was acting as if he cared in his own weird way, trying to ascertain if he needed to go with you just in case this was something more serious. “If you wish to leave early, we can. I don’t want you to feel as if we must stay even if you are ill.”

Don’t be kind. You’re not sure you deserve it. “I don’t believe it’s that serious. Please, sit. I shall be back before you can even think to miss me.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Snow sat down. Sejanus remained standing, watching as you turned to leave. It was not until you left the Lord’s Room, sparing a glance over your shoulder, that you saw Sejanus sit down, too.

It was easier to breathe outside of the room. Not much by much, but certainly easier. Being sat between Snow and Sejanus, even if had been something of your own doing, had become something of a personal hell. Damn Sejanus. Damn him. This evening wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to have a nice evening at the opera. You were supposed to get on Snow’s nerves. You were supposed to laugh with Sejanus and not worry about his insane ideas. It was supposed to be nice, not…whatever it was about to become.

You found a somewhat secluded area of the foyer and leaned against the wall, trying to steady your heartbeat. You did not know if Snow or Sejanus or both would follow you. If they did, you worried about the other people who were invited eavesdropping on the conversation, realize that there was more than meets the eye regarding your betrothal to Snow. Oh, you would not be able to handle that scandal.

After a minute or two, the sound of the opera singer ringing in the background, you pushed yourself off the wall. It had been long enough that Snow would become concerned and come looking for you. And it was close enough to intermission that Sejanus—

“You look like you’ve seen death.”

You sucked in a breath. “You need to leave.”

Sejanus stepped closer to you. Too close. He reached out, brushing a loose curl away from your face. You fought the urge to flinch away. “We can go—”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You cannot truly believe I would leave with you, can you? Sejanus, Snow is the King. He would do everything in his power, utilize every resource at his disposal, to find us and bring us straight to the Capital. You would lose your head, and I would never see daylight again.”

“That should not matter if we love each other. We could find somewhere no one could ever find us. We could live a life all of our own, never have to worry about anything else.”

“But I don’t love you.”

“Coryo told me that you would rather marry me. That you thought I am an easy man to love. Is that not enough?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. It was so hard to look at him and not cry. Why was he making this so difficult? Why was he putting you in this position? “I might have loved you. In a different life, maybe. But I do not feel what you feel for me. I will not risk my life and yours for a maybe.”

“But you will risk a life of unhappiness with Coryo?”

Why did no one listen to you?

Why did no one care to ask you what you wanted and actually listen?

“It is not as if Snow hates me. He cares, in his own way. Even if he shows it in his strange ways. I would want for nothing with him.”

“Can you love him?” Sejanus stepped even closer to you. He cupped your face in his hands. You squeezed your eyes tighter. “Tell me you will be happy with him, and I will leave you alone. I won’t bring this up ever again. I will leave—”

Sejanus was ripped away from you before he could finish speaking. Your eyes flew open. What was happening? Why—

Oh.

Oh no.

Snow’s face was blood red, his knuckles nearly matching as he gripped Sejanus’s jacket. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he spat.

“Coryo, I—”

“You said you didn’t wish to marry her. You said you wouldn’t try to take her from me. Was that a life? Were you trying to catch me with my guard down? What happened to not wanting to hurt me?”

“Please—”

You had never seen Snow so angry in all your life. Not even when you would spend every day at the Academy arguing with him. Not even when you had told him that you considered marrying Sejanus. Was Snow going to hurt Sejanus? He looked angry enough to kill. You couldn’t let that happen.

“Snow—” you tried to say, but he did not hear you.

“I should have the Peacekeepers drag you through the streets, throw you in a cell, and let you rot. I should have you executed,” Snow hissed. “This is treason.”

“Please, Snow—” you tried again.

You tried to think. Tried to figure out something, anything, to say that could quell Snow’s anger. But you couldn’t even get through to him. It’s like he didn’t even realize you were speaking to him. Oh, what could you say?

“I should make your execution a fucking spectacle. I should make everyone watch as you are hung—”

“Coryo, stop!”

Snow’s head snapped to you. His pale blue eyes looked you up and down, as if he was trying to determine if he should direct his ire to you. He let go of Sejanus’s jacket with a push. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have made Sejanus stumble, but the sheer weight of everything brought the man tumbling down. Snow took a step towards you, his voice dangerously low as he asked, “Why should I?”

“I was telling him no. I don’t want to go with him,” you said, careful not to say Sejanus’s name. Saying his name in ordinary circumstances drove Snow insane. You hated to imagine what he might do if you did so now. He might just kill Sejanus with his bare hands. His hands. You glanced down, then reached for one of Snow’s hands. It was clenched into a fist, but he allowed you to open his hand, intertwine your fingers with his own. “I want to marry you, Coryo. I want to be your wife.”

Snow stared at your connected hands. He squeezed your hand. It looked like he couldn’t believe this was real. “He followed you out here. Were you planning to run away?”

You couldn’t lie to him. Not now. “He sent a letter this morning. He wanted to run away at intermission, when it was easy to disappear in a crowd. I…I tried to tell you, before he arrived this evening. I never intended to go with him.”

“He followed you.”

I didn’t ask him to, you wanted to say. But you knew that wouldn’t do anything to diminish Snow’s anger. Instead, you said, “I wish you followed me instead.”

When Snow looked at you, you could see his eyes softened ever so slightly. “I thought you might want some space.”

Though you did not wholly believe in what you were saying, you knew it was working to calm him down. “All I want is you, Coryo.”

For a second, a smile began to tug at Snow’s lips. But it vanished all too quick as he heard Sejanus begin to rise to his feet. “He needs to be punished.”

“Don’t have him killed.” When Snow’s eyes narrowed, you quickly added, “I don’t want the death of your friend, your best friend, to weigh heavily on your conscious. I-I know you’re upset now, rightfully so, but that should not mean you send him to the gallows.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched as he weighed your words. “Then what do you suggest I do? If we are to be partners in life, you shall have a say in carrying out punishments.”

Oh, he was being cruel. Perhaps rightfully so. Snow would not harm you physically, but he would not be so above hurting you emotionally. You had not told him about the letter, and in his eyes, you were sure that put you on a similar level of treason as Sejanus’s actions.

You fought the urge to look at Sejanus. “He shall enlist in the Peacekeepers,” you decided. “You can ensure he has an assignment far away from the Capital. Give him time to consider his betrayal.”

Snow said nothing. You worried he would dismiss your suggestion and call for the Peacekeepers anyways. That he would force you to watch as Sejanus was hung. You stepped closer, pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Please, Coryo?”

When you pulled away, Snow was blinking a mile a minute. You prayed that was enough to convince him, to show him that you were loyal to him. To spare Sejanus’s life.

“Go,” Snow spat at Sejanus.

Sejanus gave a shaky nod. He dared to look at you, his mouth beginning to open. Whatever he intended to say, though, was lost.

“If you are going to say anything, it should be to express your gratitude to her for sparing you from an execution.”

Sejanus swallowed. “Thank you.”

“If I learn that you have not enlisted by morning, however, I will follow through with stringing you up at the gallows.”

Sejanus nodded again and quickly left before more could be said. For his sake, you prayed he went straight to the enlistment offices. You weren’t sure if they were open at this time of night, but if he went now, he might be able to enlist first thing in the morning when they did open.

You let your head fall against Snow’s chest. His heart thump’d, thump’d, thump’d quickly. You wound your arms around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. And as he hugged you back, you added, “And I apologize for not telling you of his plans. I…I didn’t think he would be so foolish to try to follow through on them. Or, I suppose, I hoped he wouldn’t.”

“You truly wouldn’t have left with him?”

“I only want a life with you, Coryo. You…may not be an easy man to love, but that does not mean I cannot love you.” Maybe if you said it enough times, you mused, it would become true.

Snow pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “I want to move up the wedding date.”

You shut your eyes. “You’ll work poor Tigris to the bone trying to finish my gown in time,” you tried to tease. Your heart wasn’t quite in it.

“You could show up at the altar in a dressing gown for all I care. I don’t want anyone else trying to steal you away before I can make you mine.”

If this was the sort of anger you would have to grapple with should anyone else try— “Nor do I.” You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. A print of your lipstick left behind a stain. “I truly am sorry, Coryo.”

Maybe if you called him by his pet name enough times, he would forget this ever happen.

“Don’t let it happen again.”

As you stood there in his tight embrace, people began spilling out into the foyer. Intermission, it seemed, had arrived. And not a single one of them were aware of events that just transpired.

How lucky they were.

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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thepinkdreamganjaqueen · 2 months ago

Text

Subway Obsessions FemReader's POV ch2

Arthur Fleck x Fem!Reader POV

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: Chapter 2 of the Subway Obsessions series from Fem Readers POV. You search for Arthur on the train on a daily occurrence now, and it's become routine. You fantasized about him daily and nightly since your last encounter. You haven't seen him since that night. If you do see him tonight, you're making your move!

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, oral (m and f receiving), piv, unprotected sex, breeding, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, praise, begging, mentions of violence, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of mental health struggles, mentions of mental disorders, mentions of self-harm (past), stalking, swearing, obsession, D/S implications, self-doubt, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff, aftercare

A/N: Finally getting to the good stuff here!!! First full-on smut! This was so fun to write and quite uh... descriptive and long. I would also like to say that the duality of these stories when read from either POV, compliment each other so well. Its crazy to see the dynamics in how they see one another. Both carrying self doubt but seeing the other as a powerful and confident creature. Seeing the best in each other and the worst in themselves. I hope they find solace in each other to see their own true potential and know they are both loved and worthy of loving! And as always, I welcome tips, ideas, comments, and criticisms, but please be nice. Cheeers!!

Word Count: 7.8k

SERIES: Subway Obsessions

CHAPTER 2: For Him

You awoke early every day this week. Unable to sleep, your rest tinged with excitement, an unbearable urge to make time go faster. You often would reminisce of the moment you met him. Arthur, your mind warbled at the name, leaving you with a sense of lifting off of the ground. A peculiar feeling that could only be characterized by your longing and lust. For days, you have ached to see him again. So many times, you pictured him looming over you mischievously with a crooked smile on his face, like he wanted nothing more than to devour you… and you’d let him. You had imagined him in the most precarious of situations that often made you blush and would shock most. Once again, you ambled out of bed, still fuzzy from sleep, wiping the dust from your eye. You had this urge since you met him to look your best or to try. You had no idea what he liked or preferred, really. You’d hope to find out. You wanted to be his obsession, wanted him to want you as much as you did him. Did he think about you? You thought. You imagined him pleasuring himself to the thought of you, and a shiver went through to your core and nestled in your nethers where you began to swelter under your clothing. Your throat dry, cheeks brimming a rosey red, you tried to gather yourself to bring these lewd images to fruition… that would mean leaving the house!

So, on you went, doting on yourself unremittingly, trying to create a look you thought he would like. You wanted him to crave you, to seethe in your presence. You picked out a cream colored fuzzy fitted knit sweater so soft to the touch and a black pleated skirt that fluttered down and stopped above your knees. You knew it would billow in the wind, possibly exposing your lacey white cheeky panties. Everything you wore was for his benefit. Some silver accents, a ring, and a pair of knee-high chunky heeled boots. The way they crept up to your knees in a slick black laced up leather, every piece of clothing served a purpose. To drive him crazy. To make his senses tingle. You pictured your boots wrapped around his neck, gipping him and pulling him closer to you. You were plagued with these explicit thoughts for days. Tonight, you left your hair down, brushed out the curls, and let them bounce above your waist and over your shoulders. Cascading onto your chest, outlining your shapely breasts. You hoped this wouldn’t be another night you missed him - because you did, you missed him.

You truly started to worry if it was just a one-off encounter. Nonetheless, you didn’t give up. You couldn’t. He haunted your dreams, your thoughts, completely infiltrating your psyche. In your mind, he was already yours. It's time to make that a reality. So funny, you thought. There was so much confidence I pretended to have when I wouldn’t even know the first thing to say. You told yourself, if you did see him again that you’d try your best not to fuck it up. You didn’t want to scare him or turn him off. A dreadful thought crossed your mind. What if he doesn’t find me attractive? What if he doesn’t like my body? My scars… You stopped the thought. Pushing it away like a child putting their fingers in their ears yelling la la la. You wanted nothing to do with that thought. You bottled it up as you always do, trying not to internalize your fears of rejection and body dysmorphia. I look amazing! You declared, self-talking in the mirror. Say it, just always say it, even if you don’t believe it.

Platform 19 was as dreary and dead as it always is. You passed a couple of hooded figures hiding from society in the corners of the platform under the whine of exposed wires and faulty fluorescents. You kept your distance and headed for the last bench again. This was routine for you now. Every night, you retraced your steps in hopes of seeing Arthur again. Playing out scenes in your mind of how things could go if you saw him and how you would respond, etc. Your mind creating endless possibilities, always ending in your ultimate sexual demise. A familiar breeze approaches, pushing harder as it nears. Your heart leaps into your throat. The train has arrived. You grabbed your things and took a moment to steady yourself, to try and slow your nervous breathing that created a small cloud of foreboding against the cold night air. Your hands were sweating and shaking. You clutched your shoulders inward to avoid the brunt of the cold that roared as the train approached. You were restless as the doors began to open in front of you. So slow, you thought. You began your shakey descent through the corridors holding your breath, tense, heart beating in your throat. You did this every day, the same routine, train car after train car, looking for that familiar face. It had been a few days since you had seen him, but he was constantly on your mind, always nearly within reach, but never truly close enough. You needed to see him again, to hear his voice, to feel his touch.

As you approach the last section of the train, scanning the seats, you lock eyes with someone you immediately recognize as Arthur. That’s definitely him! You thought. Although, he looked different, absolutely captivating, and handsome as always. You let out a long breath. Your chest no longer felt tight. Finally! He raises a hand and waves you over, but you were already heading to him hurriedly without a thought. Practically tripping over yourself, your body taking on its own sentience before your mind could think. Being driven by pure desire, dragged to him mercilessly, you happily obliged. You were once again the only two people on the train. How lucky for you, you thought. How lucky for him! You smirked and giggled internally. Unbelievably striking! His face, decorated with white paint, a red smile that extended past his full lips, a red nose, red drawn on eyebrows, and blue triangles above and below each eye. His suit, a contrast of red, with an orange vest and emerald green undershirt. His hair slicked back messily. It curled at the ends in locks of green that matched his undershirt. He was magnificent! You thought. A work of art and everything you desired in that moment. The way he moved, the way he looked, enchanted you. You were the snake; he was the charmer. He moved, and you moved.

You felt a frigid breeze blow past your face and exposed legs. The doors of the subway train clanked shut with a force that blew through your knees and out the front, pushing the fabric of your skirt upwards and exposing your upper thighs to Arthur. You saw him glance down. His lips curled in as he bit his lower lip. He quickly stood, holding on to a rail with one hand and reaching out with his other. You were mere inches away. He helps you sit down, releasing his grip on the rail and sliding his hand across your lower back, guiding you to the seat closest to the window and sits next to you. There are bench seats in front of you both and behind you, essentially caging you in. You don’t feel threatened. You don’t feel claustrophobic. You feel safe, protected, and secure. Your mind searches, you don’t know what to say, but you play it off coyly. You boast as if you have confidence to hide your true inner demeanor. You were a nervous wreck, but also the most excited you’ve ever been. He was here! Literally within reach, the possibilities flood your mind. You finally caught him, and this time, you were not going to let him go.

When he sat, your shoulders, elbows, hips, and thighs brushed softly against one another. The movement from the train creates and alleviates pressure randomly between you two. Pushing you into one another. Immediate warmth began brewing in the space closest between your bodies. You turn to each other and shift your bodies toward one another. Your knees, pressing into his outer thigh. You straighten out your skirt and move your hair out of your face, then look up at him. He has his arm extended out on the seat behind you. He speaks out. “I'm a clown” a sudden and unexpected sentiment. He seemed to want to explain. However, you hadn't really thought much about it aside from the fact you found it extremely attractive. It was still Arthur, but the look enhanced his features, narrowing his brow and accentuating his jawline. It just felt right. Nothing seemed out of place about this to you, so you didn’t think too much about it.

“I work as a clown for a talent agency” he said while gesturing towards his face with a hand. You listened attentively as his voice caressed the most starved inner parts of your brain. Scratching an itch you didn’t know you had. “But my dream is to become a comedian. I want to bring laughter and joy to the world”. He spoke so honestly and so beautifully. You could hear the pain in his voice he masked. It was endearing, and you thought, how commendable. Such a simple dream but with such big implications and impact. It meant more than him, you thought, how selfless, and how kind. This man you saw before you, so humble and sweet. You felt primal, urges begin to take over your mind, you let them, but maintained a friendly calm exterior… you hoped. “Arthur!” You jested! “I didn’t know you wanted to be a comedian! I love that! And I love the makeup!” You slapped his leg playfully. He smiled, his cheeks creating wide lines rippling the red paint. “Yeah, I uh, have a book I write jokes in and everything! It's got a lot of personal stuff and stuff from my own life, I think that’s what makes the best jokes.” He boasted sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as he did.

You two began a long, deep conversation as the train crawled through the endless tunnels under the city, and time stood still. The lights from the tunnel flashing across your faces every so often light up the dimly lit train car. You spoke about anything and everything. One conversation led into the next and story after story as you two began getting to know about each other on a deeper level. You spoke about your past, how you grew up in an abusive household with parents who abused drugs, and how you were taken away at five years old due to neglect. He spoke to you about his past and childhood as well, how he was adopted and didn’t know his dad, how he had a neurological condition that caused him to laugh uncontrollably in situations of high stress or emotion. You two spoke about mental health, and he spoke of his need for medications and therapy. Although he seemed apprehensive to speak about many of the deeper topics, perhaps it was a fear of judgment. Nevertheless, you maintained a presence of safety, to be someone he could speak to safely and openly. You, too, have gone through life dealing with these issues. You didn’t feel comfortable telling him about your self-harm scars, though, at least not yet. You felt it was too intense and ashamed. But you related on your mutual need for therapy and the like and spoke honestly about your own diagnosis. You bared your soul to him without hesitation, knowing you are broken, yet doing your best just like him. You sought to make him feel not so alone because, in reality, that’s how he made you feel.

You thought to yourself how lucky you were to find a soul akin to your own with similar relatable experiences. You could help each other through things, learn, and grow. You spoke about life, politics, hopes, dreams, experiences, travel, etc. etc. You watched his face as he spoke, seeing every detail. How his nose crinkles when he smiles, the shape of his nose, the angular shape of his jawline as he opens and closes his mouth. Every lash that fluttered as he blinked. How his forehead moved when he’d raise his eyebrows. You studied him, wanting to know more, to see more. You noted every emotion you saw crossing his face, keeping the images of his face stored somewhere in your mind. The two of you connected in so many ways. You related so closely to his life stories and had so much in common. You felt even closer to him now. It was no longer surface level, and your lust for him only grew deeper, more complex.

You had an abundant amount of respect for this man. You found him to be a genuinely good and respectable person just trying to take care of his mother and support himself and his life's goals. Just like you, he wanted to make people happy. To help them and to succeed and be respected. It was wholesome. With each minute that passed, time seemed not to move at all. Every time the train moved in a rough manor and bumped you into him, you took the chance to steady yourself on him. Grabbing his thigh, curling your fingers softly inward towards the middle, sliding them off softly as you did, tracing lines on his suit. Every chance you had in the conversation to laugh or jest, you used as a chance to touch him. Putting your hand on his leg, looking him in his eyes when speaking seriously and from the heart, and playfully grabbing his shoulder when he would crack a joke. He was funny without trying, often just being a smartass. His humor was dry and a bit dark. It matched perfectly to yours. You both laughed loudly and wholeheartedly in the less serious parts of your conversation. It was bliss. It was so easy to speak with him. There were no awkward silences, no need to fill the space. You could listen to him speak all day and vice versa you could talk to him all day. The way he listened as you spoke. He was still, eyes concentrated on you and you alone. Watching your lips as you spoke, afraid to keep eye contact. And those eyes peeking at you through the makeup while looking down at you as he spoke, you melted into him. Hanging on his every word, anticipation at its height.

You crossed one leg over the other. The one farthest from him, your leg hooking his knee slightly and brushing past it as you did before resting in that position. Deliberately. You wanted to see if you could make his cheeks flush behind that makeup. You wanted to test the waters to see if, in fact, he was feeling what you were feeling. As much as you preach about communication and expressing your feelings, you were far too scared of rejection to be so forward. Rejection from Arthur would break you. You already felt so close to him. So, you were unsure how to proceed. Perhaps a look crossed your face. Perhaps he could read your mind. He quickly glanced at his leg and then returned his gaze to you. He began to reach his hand toward your thigh when suddenly you recognized the loud speaker announcing the approaching platform. Yours was still several stops away, but it immediately put a panic into your heart.

You wouldn’t have much time left with him now. Reality came crashing in on you, and you sprung yourself upwards, putting your knees on the bench to see over the seats behind you. You turned towards the back to view the closest marquee board, hoping the numbers were a lie. It was quick and sudden. Unbeknownst to you, in doing so, you essentially placed your breasts right in Arthur's face. His hand immediately reached up and held you close, pliantly, pulling you in, holding you still, a loving gesture truly. His hands felt stiff and strong. For a brief moment, you could feel the pressure of his nose in your cleavage and his forehead on your chest burrowing into you and inhaling deeply before you slid back down. Once again, forgetting about the numbers and being brought back to this man before you. You so badly wanted to be with him physically. To touch him in any way, for him to touch you.

You slid back into your seat, looking up at him, a mere inches away, bodies so close you could feel his breath. He was looking into your eyes examiningly. You shifted your gaze, feeling exposed and apologizing profusely, practically babbling. “Sorry, sor-sorry, I didn’t mean to. I mean, I-I completely forgot, I wasn’t paying atte-.” While trying to explain away your actions and trying not to seem like you were being rude- because that’s how you thought he would have perceived it, jumping up in the middle of a conversation like that. Arthur grabs your face with both hands. Gently placing them upon your cheeks with his thumbs resting under your chin, redirecting your gaze back to his and tilting your head upward ever so gently. He didn’t need to push or pull. With him, you were like water. You flowed with whatever movement he initiated. His eyes gazing into yours, your face a mixture of surprise and want. Your lips parted slightly; eyebrows raised. As if answering every wish in your mind, Arthur leans in and pulls you closer to him. One thumb reaches up from your chin and brushes over your lips. The other hand moves from your face and smoothes down your neck, sliding back behind your head and pulling you even closer as he steadies himself, shifting in his seat as he does. He caresses the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair, squeezing lightly.

Tilting his head to the side, you close your eyes as you feel his lips press to yours. He lets out a long sigh through his nose, and you can hear a hum low in his throat. You immediately loosen, dropping your shoulders and pushing yourself onto him, leaning in fully for the kiss. You turn your body in your seat, getting up on your knees to reach his face more easily. You place your hands on his chest, pulling at his collar, wanting him closer. You moan and exhale pure passion, all of your longing, all of your obsession, finally being fulfilled. He sucked in through his teeth as if inhaling your essence, drinking you in. Your breathing was heavy, heart racing, skin hot. Your body felt like fire. He kissed you passionately, pushing hard into your lips, not breaking contact as he traced his tongue along yours, fighting for a spot in your mouth. Your teeth clanked as you kissed aggressively. Pawing at each other helplessly, taken over by your desire for one another. His hand went from your face and slid down the front of your top, smoothing the fabric as it slid. His hand rested at the seem just above your skirt. His fingers then began to slowly peak under your shirt as you felt his other hand slide from your neck to the small of your back. His fingers were cold against your skin, stinging, leaving a trail of cooler skin as they moved closer to their destination. It was exhilarating.

You kissed him back passionately, breathing hard through your nose, pushing back against him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, moving it to the back of his head where you playfully pulled his hair. You could feel him smile through the kiss. You moved your other hand from his collar to his chest, rubbing up to his shoulder and placing your fingers under his suits overcoat, sliding them delicately down his shoulder. Without hesitation, he took the initiative to follow suit and slid his arm out the rest of the way, pulling it off the other arm without leaving your face. His lips slightly shifted as his body moved. He re steadied just as quickly, dedicating his full attention to you. You acted, and he reacted and vice versa. Symbiotic. As his tongue gently roamed your mouth, his hands continued roaming your body greedily tugging at you, grabbing your skin lightly. Leaving no inch untouched. His fingers danced gently over your skin, but with enough force and authority to hold you in, to keep you there.

With your body pressed up against his, you lift your left knee and slide it between his legs finding a place to rest it on the seat bringing yourself even closer to him, hands in his hair again, tussling his curls playfully as you bit his lip. He let out a small, almost inaudible gasp. He then opened his eyes drunkenly and gave you a pleading look. His red paint smeared on his face, blurring the lines of the smile and no doubt spread onto your lips and nose as well in the heat of the kiss. You smirked, now knowing the power you had over him. Feeling his whole body erupt with desire at your touch. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You looked longingly into his eyes, seeing into him. You brimmed with emotions, too many to name, but at the surface was pure love and contentment, you wanted to give him all of you, all of your love. His arms wrapped around your back felt like an extension of your own body. Like he was a part of you, a piece that just fit so perfectly into place. The connection is undeniable. You placed your hand on his face, cradling his cheek and tracing where the lines of his red smile were. He all but sunk into your hand. He was so cute, so innocent, so untouched. You wanted to strip him of his purity, to ruin him sexually in ways that would make a preacher pray. You bit your bottom lip and rushed back to his. They were as soft as you imagined, pouty, and pillowy. They moved softly over yours as he pressed his tongue inward. You pulled his tongue into your mouth sucking on it, tracing underneath with your tongue reaching the tip and letting go. The kiss ended in a smack as you let go of his tongue. His hands had now wandered under your shirt, so precise and sure of his movements. One hand in the back holding you close, putting pressure on the small of your back just above your waist, one in the front, cupping your ample breast. He would switch from one breast to the other, his hand squeezing around them with minute pressure. You could hear a low groan building in his throat.

Unaware the entire time you were kissing him, your hips and legs that were straddling his thigh had begun moving upon their own volition. Rocking and swaying with the kiss, grinding on his knee. You could feel the heat that rose up from your core, moistening your panties as he encouraged you with his hands, holding you steadily, gently moving with your motions. You hadn't had much thought while kissing him. It was almost mechanical, routine. But now, all you could think about was him sliding his hands down there. You slowly nudged your knee closer to his groin, as close as it would go. His legs tightened around yours, and you could feel the stillness in his pants brush against your knee. This nearly sent you over the edge. Made you crazed with passion. He slid both hands around your back, reaching under your skirt, gripping his hands around your exposed bare cheeks, and pulled closer. The tips of his fingers brushing up against the lace of your panties ever so slightly. Squeezing his hands hard gripping your flesh until it spilled out between each finger, you audibly moaned in his ear, gasping at his touch. You flung your head back as he began peppering kisses around your neck. Starting behind your ear and working his way down to your shoulders, then collar bones and back up the front of your neck under your chin and working his way back to your mouth. This man had you in a choke hold, and you were putty in his forgiving hands. The world around you melted away. Unbothered by the frigid air in the subway, unaware that your stop had already come and gone. It was the last thing on your mind and worlds away. Arthur was your focus. You had his attention, and you planned on keeping it for as long as possible, and you didn’t care who saw or who was affected by it. Work who? Work where? Honestly, fuck that place! Nothing made you feel as good as Arthur did right now. Not helping people, not being a reliable coworker, nothing. You would let everyone and everything go for him. He’s the closest you’ve ever felt to joy, to pure unfiltered exhilaration. You were nothing if not enraptured by his touch and charmed by his nature. It felt like a dream in the sense you were content, he felt like home, like a nice warm bed you had drifted off in. He radiated pure comfort. Reality now matching your dreams, your fantasies, coming to fruition. It was destiny.

He continued kissing your face, his hands, one gripping your breast, one gripping the back of your head with his fingers, entangled in your curls. He clenched his hand and pulled you away slightly. A light gasp escaped your lips. He gazed into your eyes with intensity. You watched as his lips moved but barely registered the words. “Come on” a hazy voice spoke in a low whispered gravelly tone. You shifted your leg away from between his as he rose and offered out a hand. Mindlessly, you followed, grasping his hand as he pulled you out of the corner and led you to the seats that lined the side of the subway sprawled out in front of a large window. There was more room here. You were no longer caged in, yet you felt exposed. But those thoughts were not at the forefront of your mind. No thoughts, really. You were drunk with passion and followed his commands without thought. Like a river whose flow is uninterrupted by the current or obstacles in its way, you unabashedly follow.

He lays his suits overcoat on the seat for you. And motions for you to sit. Such a gentleman, you think. You watch him, observing how he looks at you. Reserved, trying to move slowly and take his time with you. But you could see under the surface how much he held back. You could tell by how he loosened his collar, the smile that curled onto his lips. He let out a sigh. Of course, you knew you had this power over him, but you wanted so badly for him to just take control. You didn’t have to ask.

His overcoat lay underneath you; the inner fabric was a soft, deep red silk still warm from his skin. You could feel it on your legs beneath you. He moved to stand in front of you, pushing your legs apart as he did, standing between them as close to you as possible. He towered over you as you looked up at him, trying to ignore the bulge growing in his pants right in front of your face. He must’ve seen you glance. His eyes narrowed, and a smile crossed his face you haven’t quite seen yet. It was darker, more menacing, you felt your heart skip a beat, your breathing quickened. He caressed the side of your face with his palm, and you melted into his touch. Then quickly, he pulled your chin upwards with a push of his index finger. “You’re so beautiful.” He said in a growl through his teeth. “So pretty. And such a good girl.” He chuckled as he let go of your chin. You nodded. “For you” you whispered while roaming your hand up the front of his abdomen. Reaching underneath his vest and undershirt with one while the other traced the hem of his pants and tugged gently. His smile grew wider. “For me.” He stated purposefully. There was more weight behind those words than you had realized at that time, but you would come to know in the coming weeks. You would have it no other way. You were for him.

You looked at him, your eyes, begging him as you traced your hand back down his chest and to the hem of his pants. You placed both of your index fingers within the seem and traced the waistband out to his sides, feeling his hip bones, then back to the middle. Brushing your forearm ever so gently over his now throbbing bulge. You felt a slight twitch as you did, but he didn’t flinch. “Tell me what you want Y/N” He wanted you to speak. He wanted you to say it, to ask nicely. You would beg if he asked. “Please” you say. He remained still, watching as you squirmed. He placed a hand behind your head and wrapped it around your hair once more as you looked up at him. “Please, I want to taste you.” You almost cried out. He bends down and kisses you, deeply squeezing your face, inhaling your breath, his tongue tracing your yours. He pushes himself flush against the seat, looking down at you, and nods. “Be a good girl for me then”.

You immediately began unbuttoning and then unzipping his pants. They catch above his cock and you have to maneuver them over his stiffness to finally free him. The tented underwear slid down easy. Finally revealing what you had only imagined when you were alone in your room. The lights of the subway tunnel washed over his body. The subway was dark for the most part sans the flickering fluorescents here and there. But occasionally an outside light would speed by and light everything up. And in that moment, while you were revealing him, you could see every detail. How his cock sprang up when freed from his clothing, how the tip glistened under tge amber glow of the lights. You grasped his thickness in your hand, reveling at the size and girth. You instantly felt the wetness increase in between your legs as the thought of him penetrating you played out in your mind. His tip leaking precum out of a bulbous head, your hand perched right below. You take a finger and gently smooth it over, spreading the stickiness around his tip. Tapping it, pulling it up, and playing with it. A hiss escapes through his lips. You look up with a smile just as menacing as his earlier. You slide your hand down to his base and lick from the bottom to the tip, cleaning off the precum you made a mess of.

You then take him into your mouth, stretching open as wide as you could to accommodate him. You watched his reaction as you pushed his swollen cock back into your throat, slowly taking him all in. His eyes snapped shut and his head fell back. His hands instinctively reached for your head, his fingers intertwined into your hair and massaging your neck and shoulders while pulling you in. Your hand held at his base and you began sucking his cock slowly and deliberately. Each time coming up to circle his tip with your tongue, then scrapping your teeth along the edge gently as you went down. His breathing was erratic as he lightly grunted while gently grabbing your head and rocking his hips to meet your movements. Letting go of his base you grabbed onto his hips and continued sucking, pulling him deeper into your mouth. Your hands gently playing with his balls, rubbing them and circling your thumb around each.

His size was quite substantial, and the thickness filled your throat, hurting slightly as it passed in and out. You created a pressure inside your mouth while sucking that whenever his cock slipped out it did so with a pop. You pull your lips off and again begin licking up and down his shaft. Cleaning up any spit that lingered. He let out another long sigh then pulled your head away from him. His index finger under your chin again, lifting you to his gaze and standing you up. His member poking your lower abdomen. Immediately your hands were all over each other in a passionate kiss where he tasted himself. Your tongues fighting for space in each other's mouths, as he raised your top off over your head and gently laid it onto the seat next to you. He then returned to the kiss. Pulling you close to him, pressing his hard member against you. “Lay down” he says as he gestures to the seat with his coat outstretched. You follow directions, wondering what's next.

You lay across the seats propped up on your elbows, watching him as he walks toward the end of the seats and stands again in between your legs. He grabs under your things behind your knees and pulls you closer to him with force. He then lifts up your skirt gently with both hands revealing your lacy white panties now soaked with anticipation. He places his fingers under the elastic and begins pulling them down. You look onward observing him. He’s so gentle with you, so lovingly tender. You raise your knees, and he slips your panties over your knees and boots, respectfully setting them on the seat next to you. He then raises his head to you, looming over you with your vagina completely exposed.

He began kissing you gently and lightly when you suddenly felt his hand smooth over your mound. His fingers slowly approached your opening. With your knees raised, your body starts to buck in response to his proximity. You hold your hands on his chest, he loosens his collar, unbuttons a few buttons, and removes his vest and returns to kissing you. You return your hands to his chest, feeling his ribs, his collar bones, and his hip bones as your hands travel, exploring his body further. Your mind is fuzzy and dizzy with passion. You let out a sharp gasp and moan while breathing heavily as he pushes a finger inside you. He slowly moves it in and out while watching your face. You gawk at him in a pleading manor, your breath caught in your throat when he slips in another finger. You moan loudly in his ear. The tension, leaving your body. With one hand, he pulls your bra down slightly, revealing your breasts. He begins lightly sucking on your nipple, his tongue, sharp and circling. His breathing made the saliva from his tongue cold on your skin. A tingling sensation that, paired with his fingers inside you, almost took you over the edge. His pace began to quicken as he watched you from behind your breasts. Your chest, rising and falling with each pant. His thumb rubbed your clit while he methodically moved his fingers within you. He watched for your reactions, the way you moaned told him either more or less. He was so intuitive, learning your body so quickly.

As pleasure welled up within you, you were looking at him. Seeing his satisfaction in the way he made you moan, how he made you squirm. It was almost overwhelming. He watched on and smiled. The red paint still smeared near his lips and cheeks, some of the white smeared too. You watched as he descended to your core. His fingers still working you, tipping you over the edge. You couldn’t image his cock in you if his fingers alone had you under his spell. His face disappeared, all but his eyes remained. Blue triangles peeked out above your lower abdomen. His free hand gripping your thigh. He rubbed over the scars on your legs, kissing them, unbothered. He's literally the sweetest and wants you to feel loved and appreciated. His demeanor and actions showed this. You feel a breeze as your skirt lifts and his face completely disappears. There's a sudden feeling of moist warmth on your vulva from his breath, so warm. His lips pressed against your labia. You felt him lick from where his fingers were inside you, up to your clit. His tongue was hot, and flat as he enveloped you into his mouth fully. Sucking your labia and tonguing the edges. You almost completely lost it. It's as if you could see steam coming off of your bodies against the cold air of the train car. You’ve almost completely forgot you were even on a train. A public train! With your panties off completely exposed while Arthur was eating you out! The thrill settled like a pit in your stomach. You were filled with an intense fear of being caught, but too deep in the throes of passion to care. It may have even excited you a little you thought. You hoped no one would see, however unlikely it may be at this late hour. But you also realized the long window behind you left space to be seen by anyone who passed by. Surely the train would be moving too fast for that though. Another thought interrupted in your mind, that there could still be other people on this train in another cabin, and they could come to this one any time they wanted!

“Fuuuck!” You moan. Your clit began to throb as he sucked it gently with his teeth. Flicking it left to right with his tongue and continuing to elicit moans from you with the work of his fingers. You grabbed his green locks through your fingers and pulled hard while rocking your hips into him, feeling his nose on your mound. As you approached the precipice of climax he just as quickly removed his fingers and stopped sucking. You immediately became aware and tried to pull his head back down. “No, please” you begged in a whispered moan. “Shhhh” he whispered while raising one finger to his lips and standing guard. His face barely had the paint on that it did previously. It had all but smeared off.

The train had stopped at a platform, and the doors had opened. You hadn't noticed, but to be quite frank, you did not care! You were so close, this is cruel! A group of men who seemed drunk and were loudly yelling walked past the window. You both waited in anticipation and complete silence as they passed the train car. You let out a big breath. They were leaving. The doors shut, and the subway began to darken once more. Arthur immediately turned his attention back to you, rubbing his hands from your hips up to your breasts. Still in between your legs. He had been looking down at you, seeing you be so vulnerable, so exposed, so… obedient…for him. You sat up on your elbows to match his kiss. Thrusting your face against his. His hands now back down at your knees. He spreads them wider and pulls you closer to the edge. After anticipating this, you scoot closer as well.

His mouth reaches you once more, drawing in a deep kiss holding your face cupped in his hands. You reach down and grab hold of him, feeling him throb in your grip. You lightly stroke him a couple of times before guiding him to your opening. He pulls his face from yours with a look of many questions. You silence it with one word. “Please?” Hearing you say please was all he needed to hear. He placed his tip at your entrance, sliding it up and down, smoothing your wetness all over his length. He was looking you in the eyes as he leaned over you, your hand on his abdomen. Slowly, he pushed in. You felt your vaginal opening stretch only slightly at first, but just the tip was enough to make you cry out. You jut an arm out and put it around his neck, cradling him to you, forehead to forehead as he pushes in further. You feel him completely fill you. Slowly, but he easily slips right in regardless of his size because of how wet he has made you. He hums in your ear, a low, almost guttural sound that fills you with a primal urge and instinct you can't name, just something in your nature. You eagerly take him in, rocking up to him, unable to take it so slow. You wanted him to fuck you, but he took his time being gentle and careful with you as if you were a delicate glass ornament. He treated you with so much respect and love, even in the midst of passion. You were pulled to him like a binary star system, revolving only around each other.

Every push made you cry out in ecstasy, each time getting further and further inside of you. Finally, his pace began to quicken. He rose from you, now standing. His hands grasped your knees as he rocked his hips into you fully. Each time hitting your cervix. Your walls clenched around him. With every pump, his pace sped, and the thrusts became harder and harder. He watched your face, intuitively making sure you were ok with his pace and how hard he was going. You encouraged him with moans and songs of his praises “yes, fuck, yes” “please don’t stop, fuck” “Arthur please fuck me! Please” and “harder Arthur” followed by cries of utter passion. He mimicked your cries of passion with his own, throwing his head back and grunting with every thrust.

The louder you were, the louder he got. A symphony of passion, dancing to the music created from the instruments of your bodies. Each thrust sent a shiver through your core, traveling up your spine, your legs shook, and you whimpered with relief. Goosebumps radiated and rippled through your flesh; it made you shiver. You arched your back and met every thrust of his with your own. You locked eyes, panting and thrusting in unison. He then grabbed your legs and placed them around his neck leaning into you and pushing even deeper and placing one hand on your lower abdomen in front of your legs where he reached through them and began teasing your clit. His eyes held steadfast on you, feasting on you with his gaze. Stern and focused, gritting his teeth as he grunted pumping into your cunt so hard it began to hurt. The pain in of itself transcended that of something hurtful but only became more pleasurable. It made you want more.

You felt your walls clench and spasm around his length. Gasping and out of breath you manage to get the words out “Ar-Arth” “Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” You grabbed helplessly towards him, to bring him close to you once more. Your legs fell from his shoulders, and he leaned in to steal a kiss. You tried your best, meeting his passionate kiss with breathy attempts to connect, to lick. He continued his loving assault on your cunt. A spasm shot through your core, and you lurched forward then fell back again, arching your back and shaking with every wave of pleasure that rippled through your body. You screamed out, cried out in high pitch moans. You caught Arthur's gaze once more, his face smiling with devilish delight. You wrapped your legs around him pulling him in, waves still surging through your body, squeezing him with every contraction of your climax. You softly touched his face “don’t stop”.

He began fucking you furiously. He was pulling you towards him with every inch of himself he could fit into you. Bucking back and forth with no rhythm, purely enjoying you for himself, using you to meet his own end. His face clenched and distorted so beautifully as his orgasm took hold. His force remained the same, slamming into you but his speed slowed considerably as he pumped every last drop of his seed deep inside of you. In almost a whisper, he let out the most deep animalistic groan from the depths of his vocal range as he came. His manhood, spasming with every burst of his essence that filled you. You could feel him pulsating within you, feel his substantial hot thick load as he continued to fuck it out of you until he couldn’t stand the stimulation and collapsed on top of you, still inside you.

He lay on top of you for some time. You embraced each other, held him close, and cradled him in the crook of your neck, still reeling from your vigorous activity and taking it all in. He was still inside of you, content, unabatingly so. You didn’t want to waste a moment with him, praying it would last forever. This perfect moment with him, so sublime. You felt at peace, euphoric. You thought since you missed work and didn’t plan on going in now, you had the rest of the night to spend with him. Your mind drifted off thinking of the possibilities when a chime from the platform interrupted your TLC so rudely. The last stop was approaching. You and Arthur exchanged glances, him looking up at you, knowing you would have to both get dressed any moment. But you took the minutes you had left with him to continue to absorb his altruistic nature, to be in his comfort. At least for this short time until you could again.

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raainberry · 10 months ago

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Nighttime Serenade

« Silly Series - 14 »

Sana x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - quiet nights and cuddles, doesn’t get better than this

wordcount - 664

A/N - rain got me inspired, not proofread bc its late i can literally feel the bags coming to life under my eyes. enjoy!

The slight panic Sana felt when you shifted your body on top of hers… Her sleepy eyes were suddenly wide and alert as she thought about you leaving her embrace.

It was a frightening possibility. It had barely been an hour since you’d sneaked into her arms in search of some comfort after a long day, but it was getting late. If you wanted to get to bed, she’d understand although she wouldn’t be all for it.

Your presence, the warmth and love you gave her were things she missed all day. She hated when your free days didn’t line up, leaving her alone with only thoughts and cravings with your name on them. The hours between your lips on her forehead in the morning and your soft, gentle kisses on her cheek in the evening seemed to stretch into infinity.

Tomorrow was her turn to leave you behind for the day. She liked to think your clinginess tonight was motivated by that thought. She hoped the small strokes of your palm, the delicate touches of your fingertips against her skin was a way for you to appreciate the few hours you had left in her company.

Her eyes kept looking up at the time displayed right underneath the TV, and she had to hold herself back from laughing at her own behavior. How much more obsessed could she be… You were in her arms, as close as you could be, yet she was already missing you.

Her gaze slipped away from the screen to find you every once in a while. The sight of your head resting on her stomach put a smile on her lips. She couldn’t see why nor how it could be as comfortable as you claimed, but she’d never complain. Easy access to your hair, random kisses, your soft breathing against her skin whenever her clothing allowed it… why would she complain?

A small hum resonated from your chest as her fingers gently pulled on a few strands of your hair, brushing them out of your eyes. The gesture alone could put you to sleep if she did it long enough. That was exactly what you wanted to avoid, but it didn’t mean you wanted her to stop.

So you focused on the TV, suddenly remembering about its existence.

The variety show you’dsettled on out of laziness to switch channels turned out to be more perfect than anything you could have willingly picked. Entertaining enough to share a few laughs, each other’s favorite sounds, but not interesting enough to make you forget about this moment you wanted to cherish.

Sana’s occasional giggles caused your head to bounce a few times, and as much as you loved to see her happy, came a time where your comfort just wasn’t negligible.

You lifted yourself off of her, unknowing and oblivious to her dismay as you went to find rest against her chest.

Relief washed over her when she realised you weren’t going anywhere. She bit her smile back at the familiar feeling of your hair tickling her neck, and her arms wrapped themselves around your back. A sudden surge of love pushed her to squeeze you closer, and your view on the screen was now blocked as her cheek was squished against your forehead.

“I love you.” She mumbled, her voice just above a whisper. You smiled at the words. You couldn’t get over them, no matter how much she said them. Whichever way she let them out, whenever she let you know, they seemed to have the same effect on you.

Warmth, from your chest to your veins. One that put your heart at ease. Your mind at peace.

“I love you too.” You sighed out, content and hopeful of the words making her feel the same way.

Sana smiled at the serenity you’d granted her, and pressed her lips on top of your head in a soft peck before training her eyes back on the TV.

Hopefully the night hours will take their time, stretch out as much as the day’s had.

#sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #kpop x reader #twice sana #minatozaki sana #sana fluff

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xetlynn · 1 year ago

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Twilight- The Switch Of Daylight- Chapter One, Birthday Wishes

(Alice X Reader X Jasper)

[One] [Two]

Charlie and I are downstairs, getting the gifts ready right before we make our way up to go wake up Bella.

Or she’s already up we just need to give her these presents. Charlie goes up first with me behind him excited. He knocks on the door once and then enters. “Happy Birthday, Bells.” He says. “Dad, [Name] we agreed no gifts.” She tells us and I roll my eyes. “At least mines is not wrapped.” He hands her a digital camera, “Okay, this is actually kind of great. Thanks, Dad.” She grinned at it, Charlie then gives her another gift, this time it was wrapped.

“Goes with this one, from your mom. We coordinated- well, she coordinated me.” He explains and I smirk as I did hear all their phone calls. “Mines not a part of it.” I hand her mine, “Don’t open it yet.” She nods and places it next to her. She opens the gift from Mom, it’s a scrapbook. “To put your pictures in, record your senior year.” He says then pauses as he thinks for a moment. “Man, senior year. How’d you get old so fast.” He teases her. “Not that old,” Bella mutters.

“I don’t know, is that a wrinkle.” He jokes but Bella freaks out, racing over to her mirror, searching for the wrinkle. “I was kidding.” He huffs. “So not funny Dad.” She grunts.

Charlie makes his leave and I close the door behind him. “Open my gift.” I grin. “[Name]-” “I don’t want to hear it.” I cut her off, shoving the gift in her arms. I patiently wait as she opens it. There lay two silver bracelets in a box. Had two charms each on both, hers having a dark blue gem then a plate that had the words “Love you, always” engraved into it. Mine had a red gem with the same saying. She smiles and then pulls me into a hug. “I keep forgetting how cold you are now.” She laughs, stepping back and we put the bracelets on one another. “I love it, thank you.” She jingles it around and I snicker, doing it back.

“I’m glad because I had no idea what to give you. But I wanted to piss you off with a gift.” I winked, and before she could say anything back I was already out the door.

I rode my motorcycle to school, I had told Angela that I’d give her this book I owned but I kept forgetting. Pulling into the school Angela’s already jogging over to me. “You brought it?” I then let my face drop jokingly, she doesn’t know I’m joking though. “It’s okay if you forgot again-” I cut her off with my own laughter, pulling out the book from my backpack. She sighs and chuckles too, taking the book from me. “I had to.” I bump her and then stand up from my bike. Taking off my helmet and placing it on the bike. I turn back to her with a smile, fixing my hair as well.

“I miss your septum.” She suddenly says and I raise a brow. She starts to stammer as I patiently wait for her to let it out. “I mean, I didn’t actually mean to say that out loud it’s just um, you got rid of it out of nowhere it was a part of you and now it’s like an empty... Space.” I cross my arms, kind of agreeing with her. “I guess that’s true.” I shrug. I walk her to the others but not even within minutes Bella comes and they rush over to her truck like a flock of geese.

I watch as Bella forces them to take pictures on her new camera, they all have fun with it even though Angela doesn’t like pictures she joins in as well. It was cute. It ended as fast as it started though once that familiar Volvo pulls into its normal parking space. I smirk as their faces falter. “Oh good, Cullen’s here.” I hear Mike say dryly. “Yay,” Jessica adds. They walk back over to where I was. Jessica turns to me “You’re dating the other two but you’re not like obsessed with them.” If only she knew. I shrug, “Too many homophobic and judgy people for that.” They all give me a look. “You know I’m right.” I laugh, I then notice Jacob running towards my sister, Edward seems very irritated. I didn’t even realize the group went away from me as arms wrapped around my waist, lips kissing my shoulder. I take the arms, pulling the person in front of me, I already knew it was Alice. We stood there waiting for Jasper to join us.

We walk into the school together. Alice and Jasper holding hands. Alice was holding a wrapped gift in her other hand. “Do you think she will like it?” She asks me and I take an annoyed breath. “Bella doesn’t like gifts in general but she will appreciate them.” I was not annoyed with Alice, but more with my sister who acts like she doesn’t secretly like the attention she inevitably will always get on her birthday. We went to the side of the hall, I kiss Jasper’s cheek. “Hey, cowboy.” He scoffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. Ever since he told me his backstory I’ve been teasing him about being a “cowboy”. “Hi, darling.” He whispers for me to hear. I peek over to see Alice staring at us, we look slightly down at her since she is shorter than us.

I pull her into our arms, she looks up and pecks at my lips. “You know for your birthday you’re going to get spoiled, right?” She tells me in a matter-of-fact tone. “I look forward to everything you wish to give me.” I place my hands on her hips as Jasper then points out that Bella and Edward are walking through the door. As Jasper and I walk slowly Alice skips over to my sister, presenting the present. “Happy-” “Shhh” Alice hugs her, leaning over to her ear and whispering “Birthday.” Over Alice's shoulder, she makes eye contact with Jasper who offers a nod. She pulls back from Alice, trying to hide the gift. “Alice, didn’t I say no gifts?”

“You did, I didn’t. I’ve already seen you open it and guess what? You loved it!” She excitedly says. “You had a vision about my birthday.” Bella seemed annoyed but I knew she appreciates my girlfriend. “And about the green dress, you’ll be wearing to your party tonight. Great color on you.” She compliments her, also giving away the fact that she’s throwing a party for her.

“My party?”

“Please? It’ll be fun.” Alice pleads, I hold Jaspers's hand. “Can I?” He only nods and I drain his energy then focus on Bella who slumps, defeated. Only because I’m controlling her emotions. “I guess I can deal-” “Great! See ya at seven!” Alice hugs her before racing off before she can change her mind. I laugh, squeezing Jasper’s hand as a thank you. “Wait, Jasper, no fair with the mood control.” She pouts and he gives her an apologetic nod. “Wasn’t me,”

“Was me!” I called, we get dragged off by Alice leaving my sister slightly upset.

I told Charlie about the party, I was wearing this black suit that Alice requested I wear. Lately, she’s been dressing me in what style she thinks fits me best. Very fancy stuff I might add. I left on my bike to go help finish setting things up.

Getting there I was set to be with Carlisle on some things. I hold my hands behind my back pretending to act innocent. “Do you think I can change without Alice getting upset?” I ask him and he laughs shaking his head. “No, not at all.” We lean against the kitchen counter, watching Alice who is making sure everything is perfect. “I figured.” I take off the jacket to the suit though.

Bella and Edward finally make their way into the house, she’s wearing the exact dress Alice told her about in her vision. I smile, finishing up with Carlisle before heading over to Jasper, giving him a quick kiss. “What was that for?” He asks and I kiss him again. “Just wanted to,” I tell him happily. “You look amazing.” He compliments, I roll my eyes. “I never want to wear a suit again.” He laughs in response. “I’m serious.” “I know you are.” He kisses the top of my head.

Alice comes between us, taking our hands and leading us into the living room. “You two look perfect.” We lean down so she can give us both a kiss. We stand up straight and chuckle at her as she goes to get the lovebirds upstairs.

The three make their way down the steps, and Bella is immediately embraced by Esme and Carlisle. “Sorry about all this. We tried to rein Alice in.” He humors her. “Like that’s even possible. Happy Birthday, Bella.” Esme steps back with a grin on her sweet face. I notice Alice holding up a camera right as she clicks it to go off. The flash startled my sister a tiny bit. “Found it in your bag. You mind?” She asks, Bella shakes her head no as in she doesn’t mind.

“Dating an older woman. Hot.” Emmett speaks up to Edward. I hide my face in Jaspers's shoulder laughing. “What?” He asks defensively after Edward had elbowed him.

Rosalie then steps up, handing Bella a silver package. “It’s a necklace. Alice picked it out.” She walks away. Short. Not sweet. But short.

Bella finally looks over to Jasper and I. She waves and I know it’s for him, he does it back and I smile, proud of him. Alice snaps a picture of him and I then back to Bella. “Show me the love!” Edward pulls Bella into an embrace, they look deeply into one another's eyes. Another flash. “For your scrapbook. Now open your presents.” She drags the girl over to a table with a pile of gifts, a huge cake, and a stake of chine plates.

“Alice, I’m the only one who even eats.” She motions to the huge cake. “Hope your hunger. Here, this one’s from Emmett.” Everyone crowds around, I stand in front of Jasper. Bella opens it to see an empty car radio box. “Um… thanks?” She looked up, confused. “Already installed it in your truck.” He proudly states.

“Finally a decent sound system in that piece of-” “No hating on the truck. Thank you, Emmett.” Bella smiles then Alice hands her another gift. “Open mine.” Bella starts to open it then she cuts her finger on the wrapping. “Ouch, paper cut.” Blood appears and I feel Jasper tense and I get pushed aside. “No!!” I shouted as he lunges at my sister. Edward flings Bella behind him causing her to crash into the table. The plates shattered beneath her. I run over to her as Edward shoves Jasper into the wall but he ricochets off it and comes back at Bella. Emmett along with Carlisle tackles Jasper to the ground, Alice holds him whispering to him to comfort him. I groan at the scent of her blood, trying to help her. My jaw tensed.

Bella lifts her arm up and a pool of blood leaks out. I grunt, getting her to stand up. “I need to get out of here,” I say through gritted teeth. Accidentally pushing her onto Carlisle I storm out of the house. Not even moments later Emmett and Rosalie bring out Jasper.

I stare at him, draining his energy, his snarls coming to a complete stop. The two let him go and he falls to the ground as he’s losing more and more control of himself. I don’t even realize how far I am going. “[Name]! Calm down!” Alice shoves me back and I stumble back. He lays there collecting himself. “He- My sister. I am not sorry!” I rub my face, and looking back at him I notice dark circles under his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to go that far.” I bow my head down. “I forgive you, I need the night to myself and my sister though,” I tell them both, frowning at the sight. I go back inside and Edward was waiting outside of the door where Bella was getting cleaned up.

“You hurt her.” I spit out, his eyes glancing up at me. “You have brung nothing but trouble to our lives,” I tell him with sincerity. “I wouldn’t have been a monster if it was for you entering her life.” I point a finger at his chest, but he doesn’t respond. “I am angry that I now have to risk her life just from a cut.” I shove him into the wall. “You will fix this.” I furrow my eyebrows angrily at him, pushing him further into the wall right as the door opens. I step back. “I’m driving you home.” I grab her by the arm, she tries to get out of my grip but I don’t allow it.

“[Name]!” “Enough! You will go home with me and that is final, Bella!” I shout at her, “Enough with this game and risking your fucking life!” I scream, she finally drops down defeated and we step outside. All of the Cullens are watching, Rosalie is even tense from the scene. I let Bella climb in and I slam the door.

“You all think about this night. Think about how you’re putting my sister in danger.” I speak just loud enough for them to hear me and not her. “Am I clear?” I fold my arms. They only nod in response. “I will talk later.”

So this one is a little shorter than my last few but wanted to end this chapter here or else the next one would've been way too long for my liking. Also, Alice's height is 4'10 in the book so that's what I'm basing it off of. Jasper is 6'3 and I'm making [Name]'s 5'6 medium height bitch. I kind of got writer's block. Well not really, I can write the story in my notebook but I can't get it all on my computer because I get a little bored after a little bit. It takes me longer to come up with ideas when I'm typing compared to actually writing it might be weird but it's what I do.

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intheticklecloset · 6 months ago

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Stressed (Dr. Stone)

Modern AU

Summary: Senku loses his notebook and immediately blames Gen, but Gen is innocent for once. After recovering the notebook, they both realize they're a little too stressed out and could use some relief.

Word Count: 1031

~~~

“Asagiri!”

Gen froze, stunned to hear his last name being shouted from the other room like that, coming from Senku of all people.

He immediately began backtracking in his mind as to what he could have possibly done to make him so mad.

The scientist clomped down the stairs and into the kitchen, looking – thankfully – more exasperated than angry. “Where did you put it?”

Gen, still panicking, stammered, “W-What do you mean? Put what where?”

“My notebook!” Senku cried, gesturing behind him as if that would explain everything. “All my equations and experiment notes – where did you hide it?”

“I didn’t—”

“Cut the crap, Gen, I’m not in the mood for this today!”

Gen went silent, frozen in terror. He’d never seen Senku so frustrated, let alone angry enough to actually snap at him. He didn’t know how to handle this version of his boyfriend. Quiet Senku? Yes. Shy Senku? Absolutely! Rambling on and on about something Gen didn’t understand Senku? Of course, he was no amateur.

But angry Senku? He had no idea.

As the silence stretched on, the scientist seemed to realize he’d gone too far. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just…I’m so close to cracking this one. I need my notes to take the next step, and I know you stole them.”

“I didn’t steal anything,” Gen said quietly. “Not this time. I swear. But…maybe I can help you look for it?”

Senku considered him for a moment, then seemed to decide his partner was telling the truth and sighed heavily. He turned to go back upstairs. “Sure, whatever.”

Gen silently followed behind him, beginning to search together with the scientist. He knew exactly which notebook he was referring to; it was the one he’d been obsessively scribbling in for weeks now. The blue one. The problem was, there were a myriad of notebooks in Senku’s lab, and finding this particular one was like finding a needle in a haystack.

But Gen was determined to prove himself innocent.

It took nearly fifteen minutes, but finally Senku made a frustrated noise and said, “Here it is.”

Gen turned and sure enough, the blue notebook was clutched in the scientist’s hands. Judging by where he was standing, it had to have found its way over to Senku’s shelf of completed projects by accident.

Well, as long as it was found.

“See? I didn’t steal it.” Gen shifted on his feet nervously, rubbing his palm with the opposite thumb – a habit he’d picked up for when he was stressed.

Senku, being Senku, noticed immediately.

“Look, I’m…I’m sorry, Gen,” he said, setting the notebook on his table and moving to join his partner by the door. He took his hand to stop his tic. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just know that you like to steal the things I’m working on when you want attention, so I assumed…”

Gen smiled weakly. “It’s okay. It was a logical conclusion.”

“I was a jerk just now. I’m sorry.” Senku gently brushed his lips over Gen’s knuckles, making the mentalist blush. “Maybe…maybe we should have some kind of code word for this situation next time. Something that tells me you’re not kidding when you do the ‘I didn’t take it’ bullcrap.”

Gen couldn’t help but smile. “A safe word for when I’m messing with you?”

Senku nodded. “Something like that.”

“Just let me know what it is when you figure it out, Senku-chan.”

The scientist groaned and pressed their foreheads together, wrapping his arms around Gen’s waist. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I know. But you’re stuck with me anyway~”

“Can I make it up to you? I really am sorry.”

Gen hummed thoughtfully. “I forgive you, Senku. But perhaps I can turn that frown upside-down?”

Senku tensed, but made no move to escape while he could. Instead he let out another sigh and chuckled softly. “How can you read me so well?”

“I’m a mentalist,” Gen whispered, hands sliding from his boyfriend’s chest to his sides. “That’s my job.”

The scientist broke into a smile as Gen began scribbling, softly tickling him over to the bed and pushing him down, fingers dancing and teasing his skin, drawing light giggles out of the younger man.

“You’re too stressed, my dear Senku-chan,” Gen half-teased, leaning down to kiss his cheeks as he tickled gently.

Senku tried biting his lip to suppress his snickers, but it did no good when Gen slipped under his shirt to scratch at his bare tummy. He twisted his head to the side, blushing furiously. “I knohohohohow. I cahahahahan’t hehehehelp it.”

“Lucky for you, I can~”

Times like these were rare, and Gen cherished them with all his heart. Senku’s stress levels getting so high he couldn’t resist the allure of being gently tickled back into a happy, clearer headspace. One of the only times he wouldn’t fight it; he’d just let himself relax and giggle and be loved until Gen had given his nod of approval that all was well once more.

This time took a bit longer, but finally Gen hummed his satisfied hum, and Senku gripped his wrists to push him away – a silent indicator he was done.

But then Gen took his wrists instead and pinned them to the bed, leaning down to kiss Senku’s neck, relishing in the surprised squeak the scientist let out.

“Wahahahahait, Gen,” he giggled, legs uselessly kicking the open air. “I thohohohohought you were dohohohohone!”

“Done bringing you down to Earth,” Gen confirmed, kissing the shell of his ear and whispering, “but not done showing you my undying adoration, Ishigami.”

Senku full-body shuddered at the name, a low groan escaping his lips even as he kept scrunching his neck and giggling at the light kisses to his neck. “Plehehehehease…”

“Hush.” Gen kissed his lips then, releasing his wrists to run his hands up his stomach to his chest, taking his shirt with them. Senku’s arms wrapped around his back and pulled him closer. He tilted his head back and soaked up every bit of his partner that Gen was willing to give.

And for Senku, Gen was willing to give his all.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #dr. stone #dcst #ishigami senku #asagiri gen #sengen #modern au #stress relief tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

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Interested in Writing But Can't Seem to Write

Anonymous asked: I've been interested in writing since I was a child. Used to be a bookworm. Whole chapter books in one night, completely addicted as a form of escapism. My first real dream job was to be an author - I decided this at around 11 maybe. No matter how many phases I've had, I always return to wanting to be an author. I am 22 now. I have not written a single thing. I vaguely remember writing like, maybe 3 things at most. Incomplete works that I just had fun with. And this was before I even turned 14. But in all those years of "loving writing and books" and "wanting to be an author" I did straight up nothing. Didn't even contribute to fanfics for the fandoms I was deeply obsessed with (I do remember trying once but wasn't into it). At some point reading was out of my life too.

I'm going to start here, because of these conflicting statements:

-- "I have not written a single thing." -- "I vaguely remember writing like, maybe 3 things at most."

See the issue? ;) If you've written "maybe 3 things" you have written something. They may have been incomplete, and you may not even remember what you were, but that doesn't mean you should discount them. You have written. That experience is still in there somewhere.

One of my biggest pet peeves as a longtime writer is hearing newer writers refer to themselves as "aspiring writers." If you write, you're a writer. Period. It doesn't matter if you journal, write poetry, write fan-fiction, or wrote a middle-school round robin with friends where you all married your favorite K-Pop stars. You write. You're a writer. And, honestly, even if you're not actively writing right now, if you want to write--if you think about writing, are constantly jotting down story ideas and character names, and are eagerly gathering inspiration from all around you... guess what? You're still a writer.

Now I'm trying to take my interest in writing more seriously, but I just can't sit down and write. I'm good at storing notes and ideas and daydreaming what my stories are about, but nothing is ever produced. If I think about it I immediately lose interest - even if I am in fact still interested in writing and publishing? I'm very confused by my behaviour and I wonder if it's normal.

What you're experiencing isn't unusual. In fact, most writers experience it from time to time, though usually it happens at points further into the writing journey and not right at the start. But I still wouldn't call that "abnormal." It happens.

There are a hundred-million reasons why it happens, and the only way to figure out why it's happening for you right now is to do some soul-searching. At your age, I think a prime suspect would be that you're in the jumping off point for your adult life. This can be a tumultuous time for a variety of reasons, and your focus and energy may be naturally geared toward the things that help you explore and settle into this new phase of life. Even beyond that, if you have have a demanding job (including being a parent or caregiver), are going to school or studying for job-related tests/classes, or have a lot going on right now (multiple projects, lots of travel, lots of appointments and social commitments, etc.)--your focus and energy is probably running thin as it is, so finding a way to funnel what's left into writing is going to take some finesse. And that's if this is even the right time for it, which I'll get to later on.

Writing Stress = Writing Avoidance

One of the most mind-blowing things I've learned about writing is that writing avoidance often comes down to writing feeling stressful for whatever reason. If you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself to write, write a certain amount, meet goals or deadlines, that translates to stress. It makes writing stressful, and the problem with that is evolution has wired our brains to avoid things that are stressful. At its most basic level, stress is a response to danger--you hear a lion roar in the distance, it causes you stress, you turn and run in the opposite direction. Stress triggers the "fight or flight response," a defense mechanism that protects us from the impending danger. With writing, "fight" shows up as self-criticism. "Flight" shows up as avoidance.

So, if you find that you want to write but are avoiding it, it's worth considering if you're avoiding it because it feels stressful to you. If so, there are things you can do to de-stress writing. For one thing, let go of the notion that you have to write any particular thing or amount in order to be a writer. Set yourself a bare minimum writing goal to reach every day... like writing for 10 minutes. That can be any writing--journaling, writing prompts, working on a story, fleshing out story ideas, fluffy fan-fiction, poetry, writing down a favorite memory, doing a book or movie review, anything. Try to do it every day, but don't beat yourself up if you sit down and aren't able to write anything, don't write a lot, or never sit down at all. Just try, every day, do your best. Also, try setting up a writing routine that you do every day when you sit down for that little writing session. Try to pick the same or similar time each day, do a little meditation or stretch beforehand, put on some soft music or light a candle, get your favorite drink or small snack. If you do this almost every day, what you'll start to find is that the writing happens more and more easily. Eventually you'll be spend more and more time doing it.

Why can I say I'm interested in writing when I don't write at all?

I'm interested in traveling to England but I haven't yet and have no current plans to. Does that mean I'm not allowed to say I'm interested in traveling to England?

Being interested in something doesn't mean you have to do that thing right now or you can't say you're interested in it.

And even if you can't write right now for whatever reason, there are still plenty of writerly things you CAN do. Following writing blogs and vlogs is a good start. You can listen to writing podcasts and read writing craft books. You can keep a notebook full of plot and character ideas, setting inspiration, favorite quotes, interesting words, and overheard bits of dialogue. You can watch TV shows and movies (and read books, which includes listening to audiiobooks!) You don't even have to do these things all the time or everyday. Just periodically, when you can. It all goes into your creative well and will be there to draw from when you are able to write.

One final word...

You do not have to be in a hurry to be a writer or to be a published writer. The average age of first-time publication is mid-30s. I was mid-40s. Jane Austen was 35. Toni Morrison was 40. J.R.R. Tolkien was 45. Richard Adams was 52. Annie Proulx was 57. Laura Ingalls Wilder was 65. National Book Award winner Harriet Doerr was 74. Poet Sarah Yerkes started writing poetry at 97 and was published at 101.

So, be interested in writing. Own that interest. Figure out if and how writing fits into your life right now. If it doesn't, do the other things. Fill your creative well so it will be ready when writing does fit into your life. ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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Visit my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

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nohoney · 1 year ago

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♡ gave you love, put my heart inside you ♡

notes: thank you for your patience for the next installment of teddy bear! this part follows keigo and how he came to meet the reader and his descent into fawning and obsessing over her

♪ With cotton and feather / Gave you love, put my heart inside you ♪

warnings: yandere hawks, stalking, obsessing, voyeurism

words: 3.6k

synopsis:

At first he wanted to keep some distance for a while, taking his time to learn what he could from afar. His own restless mind just couldn’t be patient though.

I miss her… she smelled so good. She could be in my arms right now. Who is she with? Remember how she smiled? I want her to look at me. I want her to be with me.

The cityscape is beautiful at night. Sparkling lights of hightowers and flashy advertisements are far away from the height he stands at. It’s a breathtaking sight to be able to take in, even if Keigo knows that there’s criminal activity hiding in the shadows of the city. In the meantime, he can ignore all of it to simply watch you be in awe of the view. The wind blows gently, his wings closing in close against his body, stifling a chuckle when you pat down your skirt to keep yourself modest.

He’d be taking it off you later anyway.

“I bet you have lots of people tell you how incredible your quirk is,” you tell him as you approach Keigo with arms held out for him to take, “you can do so much with your wings.”

Only because his talent is honed so very well from the people who took him and molded him into who he is. He traded his name to become Hawks; but with you, he feels like Keigo Takami.

You’re like any other fan of his, in awe of his talent and his charm that was all carefully crafted to make him a sparkling idol. Keigo adores all your fawning above anyone else’s. He knows that attention is what comes with his status and he plays his part well as a hero, he understands what he means to the public. But he never wanted someone as badly as he wanted you.

He was just on patrol, a rather leisure one with not much activity going on, and the crowds gathered to him. Keigo had time, talked with a few, took a selfie here and there, and handed out some autographs. And he saw you, looking at him with awe no different than anyone else’s, but something deep in chest told him instantly that he needed to have you.

“You’re so pretty.” Keigo’s first words spoken to you and oh how he adored how bashful you became. Truthfully he was taught to never play into any favorites with fans or to never go a step too far, always be warm but distant. He just couldn’t help himself though. “May I have your name?”

He shook your hand after you introduced yourself, he wished that he could take off the gloves and feel your skin against his palm. The perfume you wore was sprayed against your wrist as well and he made an excuse to keep your hands touching. You wore a bracelet, a gold chain with a single charm as its only decoration. Keigo remembers fixing the charm so that it rested properly where it could be seen, the tips of his gloves grazing the inside of your wrist.

You had smiled shyly and thanked him for the compliment, pulling your hand back slowly and holding it against your chest.

When he was in his simple room, Keigo remembered your alluring perfume. Some of it was still on his gloves, his eyes rolling back as he groaned and fisted his cock with his free hand. Your smile, your pretty smile, and how you looked at him made him feel something he had never felt before.

Keigo wanted you.

Badly.

He was never one to use his skills for any personal gain, his eyes were always set on creating a better society for heroes. But meeting you gave him some different purpose that he hadn’t discovered yet and Keigo knew that now he had met you, he had to have a life with you.

He just does a little search on you by your name. First and last that you willingly gave to him! All your info was available to him, phone number and home address and your graduating year and your current place of work! On his least busy days and his off days, Keigo memorized your routine. The time you wake up, when you shower, when you head off to work, when you schedule time with your friends, and so on and so forth.

Keigo even learned how you masturbate.

His feathers are slippery little things, delicate when he wants them to be. He tucks them in the small crevices in your home on the late nights he hovers around. Listening carefully, Keigo memorized the weight of your steps when you walked, how you sigh when you’re frustrated about something, and he was most intrigued when he felt his feathers distinguish intimate sounds while you were in your bath or bedroom.

One night, he even risked a feather fetching him a pair of your panties when you left your window slightly open one night. You left them on the floor along with your other laundry before heading out for the evening to see your friends. When his feather dropped a skimpy little thong into his hand, Keigo wasted no time returning to his little room to gush over the little souvenir he had taken for himself.

It made him feel just a little bit closer to you.

At first he wanted to keep some distance for a while, taking his time to learn what he could from afar. His own restless mind just couldn’t be patient though.

I miss her… she smelled so good. She could be in my arms right now. Who is she with? Remember how she smiled? I want her to look at me. I want her to be with me.

So he created fate, swooping by you while you walked alone after work and claiming he was patrolling outside of his normal route. Keigo saw you decline after work drinks with your friends so he knew it was meant to be. He flatters you by saying that he remembered you by your bracelet which you were still wearing. When he offered to walk you home and you accepted, his heart practically soared and he had to keep down the biggest smile that wanted to come onto his face. Of course you wouldn’t say no to him, you belong to him after all and should accept anything he gives you.

The perfume you wore roused him quite a bit though; he was having to fight off popping a stiffy around you.

“Hey… thank you Hawks. You didn’t have to go out of your way but I really appreciate it.”

It was so difficult for him to practice restraint, Keigo himself knows that he can have difficulty with self control. That only applied to eating his favorite foods or maybe having the extra dessert; it was different with you. But he gives you that smile that he flashes for everyone, asking for your hand.

He bowed slightly and kissed the back of your hand, inhaling gently to smell your perfume.

Keigo was in love.

━━━━ ♡

You occupy his thoughts.

Morning, noon, and night.

You were sending him texts, telling him to be safe and to make sure to eat a healthy meal. Keigo was so happy that you were thinking of him too. The people around him notice that he is more chipper than usual but he brushes it off and says that a hero needs to keep a smile on their face. Inside his mind, all he could think of was you.

At that point, you and him had already been intimate.

You were on him rather fast when he gave you the first sign and he couldn’t have been happier. Truly, Keigo thinks that you must not have wanted to wait any longer to be with him too. You must have sensed the soul tie between the two of you, the tethering pull of two people meant to meet and fall in love. He was glad that you were so quick though because he wasn’t sure how okay he would have been taking it slow. It was agonizing watching you from afar and when he chose that day to approach you, he wanted to take the fast track to his destiny with you.

The aching desire to be with you when he watched you from afar was soothed the second you had leaned in to kiss him.

That first night, he wouldn’t let you off his face because he wanted to memorize the taste of your pussy so badly. The way your hips rolled when you wanted more, how you’d tuck them back if you wanted more focus on your clit or bring them forward when you wanted him to lick your hole. The way you grind on his tongue, how your thighs shake when you’re close to cumming, every soft little whine he elicited out of you, Keigo believes that a god up there sculpted you for him.

“Oh god…” you sighed up to the ceiling after the first night you had together, “That was fucking amazing… would it be okay if I asked if we could do that again?”

Of course! Of fucking course! What a silly question to ask! As many times as you want him, whenever you do!

He carried you in his camera roll too with sweet selfies and sexy nudes. He loved your texts but loved even more when you called him. The softness in your voice when you were whispering on the phone to him made him feel all fuzzy inside. Nothing had ever made him feel this way, no person made him feel this dizzy and head over heels.

“I like when you hold me like this.” you commented one day as he held you in his arms, “When you have your wings tucked those close, it makes me feel safe.”

Keigo held you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, humming absently. Your words are sweet, genuine, but having you so close was making him hard. He wanted to be gentlemanly and let you decide whenever you wanted to initiate intimacy. His heart is full of love for you but his cock is aching to be in you all the time. Keigo doesn’t just want you for sex but he’s in the honeymoon phase where his heart is always fluttering and he can’t help wanting to have you again and again.

“Hawks, I can feel you.”

He coughed into his fist before apologizing, “I’m sorry… I’m just really attracted to you. Kinda can’t help myself.”

“I haven’t even done anything for you to be excited over.” You laughed.

That’s exactly it; you never had to do anything to win his heart. It belonged to you already. Your existence was enough reason for him to be madly in love.

━━━━ ♡

“Say my name, lovebird. Wanna hear you say it.”

His fingers are dipped deep into your pussy, teasing that sensitive little spot in you that makes you writhe and whine for him. Months of being called Hawks by you, just like everyone else does, it was maddening for him. He needed you to know that you were the most special to him, that you had a privilege more than anyone else does in this entire world.

Already so many secrets are carried between the two of you, but this one is the biggest one.

Keigo Takami, his name.

He gave it up to be taken in and he hasn’t been addressed by it since. It has been years since Keigo Takami has been spoken by anyone. And its affiliation is dirty too, linked with his criminal father, the commission needed him to discard all past links to create him.

You can call him by his name, only you.

“C’mon, say my name. Be a good girl for me.”

It’s sweet how you’re so shy about it but there’s no reason to be. Telling you this secret is a gift that he hasn’t given to anyone else. So he wanted it to be used only by you. All this hesitance that you have is unneeded. Say my name, say my name, say it-

“Oh god!” You sobbed as his fingers withdrew from you, “Please put them back! Please, it was so good! I was just about to-“

“Say my name and I’ll make you cum in whatever way you want.”

You whine and shake your head, “I-I don’t know if I’m ready… it’s so intimate.”

Keigo chuckles to keep everything relaxed but inside, he’s dying. He wants so badly to hear his name from your lips. It felt so easy for him to give you this secret so he doesn’t understand why it’s so difficult for you to give it back to him. He wants you to say his name. Say it and he’ll reward you, you won’t have to lift a finger at all. He will take care of everything as long as you give him this one thing.

He pulls you up by your arm, lifting you off the bed that he sleeps on and brings you into his embrace. Your head tilts up at him, his hand carefully cradling jaw and his wings coming around as if embracing you too. “I’m sorry. Was I moving too fast?” Keigo speaks softly, “This is all new for me and I was just following what I felt was right. I won’t make you…”

Say my name! Say my name! Say it! Say it!!

He’s adoringly in love with you but there’s an ugly side to it too. Keigo is going to love you only on his terms and his only. It’s so pure what he feels for you, it eats him up on the inside and he even struggles to sleep because his thoughts race only around you. His pretty little bird, the one who makes him smile and he wants to hide you away from the world so that you’re protected from the dangers of it. He’s no longer just a hero for his country but he’s a hero for you.

“I-I want to! I do!” You tell him hastily and take his hands into yours, “It’s just that you’re someone so special. You’re important to everyone out there and I don’t feel worthy of you.”

His heartbeat is so loud in his ears that he almost feels dizzy.

Keigo presses a kiss to your forehead and brings you into an embrace. He whispers gently to you how he adores you so much and that you need to trust in his affection. Who cares what the outside world would think? Who is there to judge when this secret is known by no one? They don’t even know about the two of you so there are no opinions that you should be scared of. It’s just you and him, no one else.

Slowly the hesitation you had crumbles. Each murmured word he speaks makes you weaker, your eyes welled with tears and your heart touched by his vulnerability. His sentiments are only for you and he had never cared this much about anyone until he finally saw you.

“K-Keigo?”

The biggest smile comes onto his face. Genuine happiness shoots through his body and he swears he wants to collapse from the sheer joy he’s experiencing. No one was supposed to call him by his abandoned name when he had been taken in to become a tool for society. He was supposed to be Hawks for the rest of his life by everyone.

But to you he is-

“Keigo! Keigo! K-Kei—fuck!”

He pounds away into your cunt, fucking his name out your mouth to the point that he knows you’ll probably lose your voice a little the next day. This overwhelming emotion fills his veins and makes him feel like he’s high. Having emotionally charged sex is different, having sex with feelings is different, being in love while having sex is different.

There’s an excited energy that isn’t just coming from him but you as well. Keigo sees how beautiful you are and swears that he can see hearts in your eyes. Before there was a shyness in your gaze whenever you looked at him, trying to keep some reservation and to keep a safe distance just in case you thought this relationship would fizzle out. Now that he told you just how special you are, you look so happy as you take everything he gives to you.

His cock pistons into you, a harsh rhythm that makes the headboard bounce against the wall and your whole body shake with pleasure. When he slightly fixes the angles of his thrusts, Keigo notes how your body reacts and sees that your eyes roll back. He fucks into you now that he’s found that sweet spot in you. Through gritted teeth, he tells you, “Cum for me, cum on my cock! Fucking cum!”

Your body tenses, your breath caught in your throat at first before you scream from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. And god, the way your pussy clenched around his dick is the only warning Keigo gets before you cum all over him.

“K-Keigo! Kei…!” You’re sobbing as he ruts into you, spurred on by how beautiful and utterly wrecked you have become. Stars litter your vision and blind you so there’s no way you could have been able to see that insane look in his eye as he looked down at you.

He chants in his mind that you are his.

His hips messily pound into you until he jams himself as deep into you as he can, filling you with thick ropes of cum and his nails digging so hard into your hips that you squirm.

At first he’s lost in bliss, Keigo’s world is perfectly silenced as he basks in euphoria. Slowly his mind ascends down, like one of his feathers that is blown by a gentle wind but then sharp when he recalls it back to him. When he hears the call of your name, he snaps out of his reverie to peer down at you.

“Oh baby… oh my sweet baby…” he whispers as he leans over you, inspecting the tear stains around your eyes and how your bottom lip is swollen from when you were biting it.

“Keigo… Keigo…” you call him with a breathy voice, trying to get your bearings in order after cumming so hard you practically almost blissed out from the pleasure.

Your hands reach out to hold his face gently, to bring him into a lazy but sentimental kiss and fall asleep in this bed that smells so deliciously of him.

His hands grasp your wrists and he holds them above your head, keeping you pinned down instead.

“I’m not done yet,” He tells you, “I want more.”

Say my name more.

“Keigo…!”

Say my name more.

“K-Kei!”

Keep saying it, it’s only for you to say.

“Keigo!”

━━━━ ♡

It’s a gentle whisper spoken against his lips when you confess that you love him.

He was sent away to further distance in the country to investigate a case. It broke him to be so far apart from you. Even as he kept his composure conducting interviews and collecting information for a case, you were the only thing on Keigo’s mind.

Four whole days isn’t terribly long but it was agonizing to not have you so close.

So when Keigo had returned, he had spent an entire night showing you how much he missed you. Truly, he was insatiable and kept fucking you endlessly over every surface possible in his personal space. Bent over his couch, he muttered into your ear how he jerked off to the saved photos he had of you in his phone. Riding him while his hands squeezed your hips, you admitted to touching yourself when he’d call you to ask how your day was and to make sure you were taking care of yourself. On his mattress, you kissed I missed you against his lips and begged him to hold you tighter in his arms.

Skin to skin, your body melts into his in a tight hug. Your sweet perfume has been smudged off your body and into his bedsheets again. Now you just reek sex and sweat and Keigo feels intoxicated when he presses his nose into your neck and inhales. Oh nevermind, he can still smell the faint of your perfume. It makes his cock twitch inside you and he admires your little gasp.

“Don’t ever leave, let’s stay like this.” You whisper to him. One of your hands gently strokes his wings, red feathers gliding along your fingers and you awe at them again as if you hadn’t done it dozens of times at this point. “Stay with me, okay?”

I could never dream of leaving you.

Keigo wasn’t one for drinking and to be honest, he got drunk easily. But the intoxication he had for you couldn’t compare, his mind swimming in a sea of thoughts that only consisted of you and you alone. If only he could stay like this forever with you or at least…

You never leave his home.

Then his mind blooms an idea, one that doesn’t have to be accomplished right now but it will become reality when it’s the right time. His mind begins to swoon over it, lost in the daydream of his mind but he snaps out of the reverie in time to hear you calling for him. “Yes, songbird? What is it?”

Your hands cup his face and you kiss him, your lips soft and your kiss shy. He adores you, he wants to lock you away into a cage, he wants nothing else but for your mind to be consumed with thoughts of him, of the two of you together.

“I love you, Keigo.” you whisper when you pull back from the kiss, just a breadth away from his lips and Keigo’s heart skips a beat.

Your confession consumes him whole and you don’t know it yet, but you seal your fate.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #yandere hawks #hawks smut

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