#like even if there's no ill intent from the other person's side

[sourle]

Upsidedown Au

World upside.. down.

WARNINGS: BLOOD, GORE, ETC.

Note: new au, new content

You hissed from the searing pain on your arm, the inside of the flesh slowly ripples and it rips apart the muscle.

Your chest throb from the feelings, your lungs threaten to break. You wheeze for air as your trachea slowly closes itself. The tears welled up in your tear line, a lake of sorrow and guilt.

What did you do? What have you done?

You can't recall, you can't remember. WHY CAN'T YOU REMEMBER!?

You hold your breath as the familiar tune starts to get louder and louder, seemingly approaching your hiding space. Please no, please no—

A hand rips out from the ground, grabbing your ankle. You let out a gasp as it pulled your leg down into the ground trapping you.

You sob, desperately trying to pull out from the ground.

STEP. STEP.

Your ears perked at the footsteps, getting more and more agitated to get free. Come on! Come on! Let go you—

Your vision started to fade in and out into darkness, you saw the sword in between your eyes from the vague display. The stinging turns into a gnawing pain, clawing, as it seems to rip out from your head. Your head hurts so badly.

You spewed out the blood from your throat, watching as it splat onto the ground before you. You scream as the sword is being pulled out from your head.

“Oh? How amusing that you are not dead yet.” You wish you did. You wish you would drop dead but it seems the spectre had other plans.

A hand gripped at the top of your head, turning it to face them. The old admin who's fallen from grace. The true holder of the hatred.

“What a pretty face..” you stare at his face, that red eyes of theirs is fixated on the scars between your eyes.

“Prettier with that..” he chuckled in amusement.

You gasped, your head started to throb from pressure as it was slowly squeezed, “Nighty night.”

You shoot up from the wooden floor of the cabin, breathing heavily and clawing at your chest and head. You can still feel the throbbing pain from the scars even as there's nothing anymore there.

“Pfeu.. Welcome back” a deep gruff voice greets from the couch. A man turns his body from facing the fireplace to you, “Shedletsky is really hard to avoid nowadays huh..” they look at your panicked state with sympathy.

Their red eyes seem to pierce through you even as it only held nothing but pity and amusement. No ill intent. His floating horns follow his head movement. His hair reflects the fireplace’s light due to it looking like a crystal.

“Not ever since he merged with his own creation.” a figure walked into the living room from the kitchen, Their movements are sturdy and it seems calculated, their eyes scan the room going from the one's on the couch to you. “Best to try and avoid his sight next time.”

The man on the couch chuckles, turning to gaze at the new face. “Sup, Bouncer! Who's his creation again? Right 1x1x1x1… geez what a mouthful to say.” the man on the couch mused to himself, their left hand playing with their floating horns on the side of their head. “Anyway, Imma nap, see you guys next match.” you watch as they plop themselves back to lay across the couch and quickly fall asleep. You think so, judging by how quickly that soft snores come.

You blinked, appalled by how easy that man rested without worries in this hell of a place. You let out a shaky sigh, rubbing your temple to ease yourself from the adrenaline.

“Ignore Blast, they do that to cope.” the new person kneels next to you, “Here.” He handed you a pill, “it'll help.” you nod, quickly placing the pill in your mouth and swallowing it dry. You hope that's not drugs meant to hurt you, but knowing Bouncer, they would never do such a thing.

“.. You.. Shouldn't have swallowed it dry..” you look away from Bouncer's gaze from embarrassment. They let out an amusing chuckle from that, they tilt their head and their ushanka’s ears followed the movements.

You slowly get up and glance at the clock, there's still some time until the rest of the survivors are back, maybe you should go back to your cabin.

“Sorry.. Anyway, I'm gonna rest back in my cabin.” “Alright, rest well.”

You depart with Bouncer, walking out the main cabin and into the dirt path leading to the survivors cabins. You follow the one leading to your own cabin. You turn to the right and make a Beeline to your cabin's door. You stopped to observe the badly made nameplate on the door with neat handwriting, ‘Elliot’ was written on it with red paint.

One of the killers' name. you wonder if the killers were also once survivors before they were turned into monsters to torture you and your survivor friends. Bouncer and Jane did make a theory on that, they both discussed it each time they found a new clue to support the theory or observing the killers.

You brushed off the thought and opened the door, walking inside the cabin before closing the door. You yawn and trudge towards your bed before flopping down. As your eyes become heavier the darked your visions become. You blinked and you saw his face. Shedletsky.

You groaned and buried your face into your pillow, descending into sleep while trying to empty your thoughts.

EXTRA

[mossspond]

I desperately want to make online friends again but being a creator has soured my attitude for it so much... it all feels parasocial no matter what.

[lewyn-martell]

.

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag XVII

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, mentions of violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, semi public sex,  jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

You hadn’t seen nor talked to JJ in three weeks.

That hadn’t been your goal, having every intention of seeing him again after that day at The Wreck—even if only to officially break it off between you. Things hadn’t worked out that way though and before you knew it, a week went by and then another and another. It was a combination of things really—Rafe being around a lot more above all else—but you also didn’t think you had it in you to look JJ in the eyes and reject him again.

The day at The Wreck had been hard enough, and you’d only succeeded then because you were so overwhelmed by Kie’s words, desperate to get away and think. She hadn’t said anything untrue, anything wrong, and that’s what made her words sting the most. Sure, JJ talked a big game about figuring out a way to safely get you away from Rafe…but in practice…? You’d been with Rafe for over two years and still hadn’t been able to come up with a scenario that wouldn’t come back to bite you.

JJ wanted to save you, and you wanted to let him, but it was unrealistic. The only chance you had would be to move halfway across the world and even then… Rafe could be scarily determined to see something through, and it wasn’t like he lacked the means and resources to simply follow you. He hated to lose.

Sometimes you wondered if JJ really understood just how dangerous Rafe was.

…or if he simply enjoyed sneaking around with his girlfriend more.

Such a thought seemed so unfair to you—especially since there was no doubt in your mind that JJ cared about you—but you’d told him the same thing before all of this even started. You’d had no problem telling him that you dating Rafe Cameron had a hand in his aggressive pursuit of you. You still believed that actually, and it wasn’t like you minded all that much because you were getting something out of this too and JJ was making you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time.

…but Kie was right.

She was so right. You either had to leave Rafe or put an end to your ‘relationship’ with JJ. Anything outside of that wasn’t up for consideration, and between you and JJ, only one of you had what it took to do the right—and smart—thing. So, you hadn’t seen JJ in weeks…and it hurt.

You didn’t know why, but you hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.

This person who had become this cliche bright light in an otherwise dark life was no longer there. You didn’t look forward to the following day anymore nor anticipate hearing from someone who never failed to put a smile on your face. The nights that Rafe spent with his father or at home were no longer filled with a familiar presence to keep you company. When Rafe left the other side of your bed empty…it stayed that way.

…and against your will, you found yourself crying a lot more these days.

“Sweetheart, you really need to get more sleep,” your mother cooed as she gently touched your face. “Everything okay…?”

You nodded at her as you stirred your creamer into your coffee.

“Yeah,” you assured her. “Just having trouble sleeping lately.”

She hummed at that, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m going to give you something for that,” she told you, rubbing your shoulder. “...and something for those bags under your eyes too. It’s making you look ill.”

You didn’t have a response for that other than a soft ‘thanks’. She hummed at you before your father pulled her attention away, both of them getting caught up in a conversation about the broken garbage disposal. Their voices faded to the background as you continued to stir your coffee, even when it had long blended into an even toffee color. You only stopped when your name was called.

Your parents were looking at you expectantly when you glanced up.

“Sorry?”

Your mother chuckled, albeit throwing you an odd look while doing so.

“I said you’ve gotten a dress for Rafe’s party, right? It’s the big twenty-one, and you can’t go wearing something you already have,” she said, sounding like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

You swallowed at the mention of his birthday, unable to forget about its approach even if you wanted to.

“Rafe bought a dress for me months ago.”

Your mother’s smile made your stomach turn.

“Of course, he did,” she commented, gently squeezing your arm. “He’s always so sweet to you.”

You weren’t able to keep looking at her as a fondness settled on her features as she thought about your relationship.

“I’d ask to see it, but I want to be surprised, and plus he never disappoints,” she chuckled. “He always knows just what to pick, and you look so radiant every time.”

Her parting words made you sigh, and for the umpteenth time, you imagined how they’d react if they ever knew the true nature of your relationship with Rafe. They doted on him because he seemingly doted on you. Like any decent parents, they were skeptical of him until he proved himself, and now years later—after he’d long started putting his hands on you—they still thought you two were the best thing to ever happen to each other.

If they knew the truth, you had no doubt it would break their hearts for more reasons than one.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised to see you…”

Sarah’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you were forced to pull your gaze away from the picture they had on the wall. You didn’t doubt that it was some piece Rose had brought into the house.

“It’s Rafe’s birthday, so, of course you’re going to be here, but I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks…”

She hadn’t seen you in weeks, and just like with JJ, it hadn’t been intentional, but you still felt bad. In an effort to distance yourself from the younger blond, you’d pulled away from anything that had to do with him. You didn’t know if you just didn’t want to chance seeing him or hearing about him, but that had included making yourself scarce around Sarah too. Considering that you were dating her brother, it was almost an impressive feat.

“Are you okay? Because as I’m saying this I realize it has been weeks since I’ve seen you, and when Pope asked about you the other day, I realized I couldn’t tell him how you were because I don’t know myself.”

You didn’t know how to respond, unable to tell Sarah that you felt like you were constantly outside of your own body, experiencing everything indirectly since you’d unofficially broken things off with one of her best friends. You missed him—more than you thought you would—and you were back to the reality of what your life was like—and would forever be like—without JJ in it.

So, you simply said:

“I’m fine.”

Sarah didn’t look like she believed you, and you watched as she pulled her lip between her teeth.

“None of us did anything, right?” you were already shaking your head. “...because everything seemed fine and then-.”

“No, of course not,” you said with a light chuckle, trying to reassure her. “It’s just stuff at home that I’ve been handling. Nothing serious, but it’s kept me really busy lately.”

The younger girl slowly nodded at that, still looking unsure.

“If you say so,” she commented. “We’re still down whenever you can pull yourself away.”

It was a very basic gesture, but it both warmed your heart and made your stomach sink. You knew that you’d either have to man up and face the possibility of running into JJ despite the fact that you were now over, or tell Sarah you didn’t want to be friends anymore, and the latter you couldn’t ever bring yourself to do. You enjoyed being around her and her friends, and one could argue that you should be taking advantage of your new free time now that you were no longer seeing JJ.

…but the thought of facing him so soon after essentially ghosting him made your chest hurt. You were self aware enough to admit that you didn't think you were strong enough to face him and walk away again. With JJ out of the picture, you were quickly reminded of just how awful your life was before he decided to kiss you that night, and it was so easy to just let yourself go back to what made you happy.

You were afraid that your resolve would crumble with just one look.

How easy it would be to tell yourself that you deserved this and that your relationship with Rafe was hardly a relationship, at all. It wasn’t a hard argument to make either. Rafe had beat you and threatened to kill you and even put you into the hospital. Anyone in their right mind wouldn’t blame you for what you’d done, but it wasn’t just a matter of right and wrong and who considers what's classified as either of those things.

Rafe would kill you.

That was something you knew for a fact. He’d threatened to do so on several occasions, but you knew that if Rafe ever found out about you and JJ—even in a sense of past tense—there would be nothing to talk about. He would kill you and more than likely JJ too. Sneaking around with JJ just for the hell of it—with no actual foolproof plan to safely get away from Rafe for good—was a death wish.

It was beyond foolish, unfair to JJ, and dangerous for you both.

It was why you greeted Rafe with a gentle smile when he finally found you some time later, reaching for you and threading his fingers through yours. Keeping him happy would keep you safe. You knew that, and somewhere along the way, you’d gotten comfortable and allowed JJ to make you forget that. Your only viable options were Rafe…or death, and anything in between was just a longer and complicated way to achieve the latter.

“I figured I’d find you gossiping with Sarah,” he drawled, tone light-hearted.

You attributed his good mood to this day—and party—being entirely focused on him. You smoothed down the eggshell dress he bought for you, relieved that it was still blemish free. You grimaced as you recalled the last dress you’d spilled some wine on while attending yet another party his parents had thrown.

Rafe took note of the action, and he paused to admire you.

You watched as his blue eyes roamed over your frame, drinking in everything from your perfectly styled hair to the baby pink polish on your toes. The house held that moderate hum that came with a full guest list, but Rafe was entirely focused on you. It felt like one of those rare moments when he was genuinely happy with you, and the look on his face was reminiscent of when you both were eighteen and in love and he was sweeping you off of your feet.

Rafe moved closer and fingered an errant piece of hair before putting it back in place.​​ That seemed to satisfy him, and you watched as the corner of his lips curved upwards just the slightest. His fingers fell to your chin where he gently grazed your skin, and Rafe straightened, looking you over again.

“You look perfect.”

The way in which he said it broke the spell, and suddenly the look in his eyes was so clear. You felt shiny all of a sudden—metallic and heavy and like you belonged on a shelf. Your heart sank, and you didn’t know why because you knew that. You’d long accepted that to Rafe, you were some prize, molded perfectly into his ideal girlfriend who would never dare leave him or speak out against him, and who’d be his support no matter what.

For a split second, you’d really forgotten that, and you gave him a small smile.

“I’m wearing a perfect dress.”

Rafe only smiled at that before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, pulling you along.

Everyone was moving outside to cut the cake and lavish Rafe with even more attention. You held his hand tight as they did, playing your role and thinking about the many years to come in which you’d have to do this. You’d long resigned yourself to it, but for some reason it was getting to you today more than usual. Perhaps it was because you could see it.

All over their faces.

They all looked at you and Rafe with such fondness and hope and happiness. They saw Ward Cameron’s only son with your father’s only daughter and pictured the future generations of Figure 8 and who would start it. They looked at you two and saw two sons and two daughters and a white picket fence and maybe even a dog. It caused a shiver to travel down your spine, and just when you considered excusing yourself, your boyfriend spoke.

Everyone quieted down as he gently tapped a glass, and you were forced to remain exactly where you were.

Rafe stared into the glass for a moment before leisurely setting it aside. You knew that this was his typical speech in which he thanked everyone for coming and showed endless gratitude to Ward and even briefly mentioned you, but there was a look that passed over his face that you couldn’t name. He looked happy—as expected—but there was a hint of haughtiness in that smile.

“I’m thankful that all of you came to support my family and I to not only celebrate my birthday, but to usher in this new era as I officially join my father’s business as well…”

Hums of appreciation and congratulations reached your ears, and you threw Rafe a smile when he glanced at you.

“I pretty much have everything I want, so…” he waved his hand around. “...gifts and all that typically don’t mean anything to me at this age.”

You kept your eyes on him, wondering what direction this speech was going in.

“However…” Rafe’s smile grew. “There is one gift I’m hoping my wonderful girlfriend will give to me…”

The gasps and commotion around you sounded more horrifying to your ears than exciting as Rafe turned to you and lowered himself to the ground. He was on one knee and reaching into his pocket, and despite the fact that you knew what that meant, you were in complete denial—frozen where you stood—up until he said the words.

“...by telling me ‘yes’ when I ask her to marry me.”

You heard your mother cry out behind you, and if there was any thought that she knew about this, it was quickly gone. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Rose covering her mouth in excitement, and you wanted to look around to see if anyone felt as horrified as you felt, but you knew the answer.

If you dared to look around, everyone would be smiling and looking on in awe and anticipation as they watched Rafe Cameron propose to you. You were sure that if you were met with the sight, it would terrify you, making you feel like you were knee deep in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You glanced up anyway, and only confirmed your suspicions, and you had the sudden urge to cry.

Why was everyone so happy? Why wasn’t anyone else petrified?

It took you an embarrassingly long time to realize it was because no one else knew. No one else knew that Rafe choked you when he felt you were getting too smart with him. No one else knew that the man on one knee before you was also the very same to break your nose and put you in the hospital. No one knew that the man proposing to you had once put the barrel of a gun in your mouth and threatened to kill you.

None of them knew that, and the one person who did didn’t look nearly as horrified as you felt.

You felt like you’d been in your head forever, but in reality, it was probably only a few seconds. Rafe was still knelt before you with that haughty smile and satisfied gleam in his eye, and you knew it was because he knew he’d won. You wouldn’t dare tell him no in front of your families and their friends and put a crack in the perfect picture you two had created.

The ring was a marquise solitaire with a yellow gold band, and if you were guessing correctly, you knew it was at least 3 carats. Tears spilled over as you looked at it, recalling a time where you’d told Rafe that was your dream engagement ring, but that was back then when Rafe was your dream man, and you were in your dream relationship. Both him and the relationship were a nightmare, now, and being presented with that ring of all rings made you sob.

When those blue eyes of his dimmed just a tad, in an effort to protect yourself, your mouth spoke before your brain could catch up, desperately telling him what you knew he wanted to hear.

“Yes.”

The word came out of your mouth and was said in your voice, but you didn’t approve of it, and you broke down again as cheers erupted from around you. Your vision was blurry as Rafe slid the ring onto your finger—a perfect fit—and he was quick to stand and pull you against him. Someone was loudly crying, and it sounded a lot like your mother, but the both of you were crying for entirely different reasons.

Rafe wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your hair as he rocked you both from side to side. You could feel yourselves being closed in on, everyone wanting to come and personally congratulate you, and you shrunk in on yourself, wanting to be as far away from here as possible.

Rafe’s lips grazed your ear.

“You just made me the happiest man on earth.”

You turned away from your bruised reflection, thinking that the evolution of your relationship seemed to bring out a side of Rafe that even scared him a little. You thought that he couldn’t keep his hands off of you before, but it was nothing in comparison to now that he could call you his fiancee. It rolled off of his tongue whenever he was inside of you, and it made it impossible to disassociate and try not to live in the moment of what your life had become.

You didn’t know if he was excited because he was so close to tying you to him forever, or if the ring on your finger increased the sense of ownership that he felt he had over you, but too many times had Rafe left you a little more battered and bruised every time he got you into bed as of late. Thinking about the harsh feel of his teeth on your back only days ago brought tears to your eyes, and you reminded yourself that you knew the trajectory of this journey the day you lied to the police.

After the successful proposal, the party had gone on for another two hours, every individual guest wanting their own solo moment to congratulate the happy couple. Rose and your mother endlessly fawned over the ring, and when you finally got a moment alone with your father, you discovered that he’d known for weeks.

After all, it was weeks ago that Rafe had formally asked for his permission.

“I don’t think any man will ever be good enough for you,” he’d said. “...but he treats you right and respected me enough to come to me.”

The tears in your normally stoic father’s eyes only served to remind you that everyone else was living in an entirely different reality with an alternate version of your relationship. You were feeling more trapped and cornered than ever, and everyone else around you was…elated.

All except one.

“Oh my God,” Sarah had said the moment she'd been able to get a moment with you.

She took your hand and just stared at the ring, and you hadn’t needed to be a genius to know that she wasn’t as over the moon as everyone else. It was all over her face, but despite that, she attempted to be happy for you, and you appreciated the gesture.

“You’re getting married,” she breathed. “To my brother.”

You’d pulled your hand away, swallowing, and beyond all of the overwhelming emotions you were feeling, you still remembered someone whose face you hadn’t seen in weeks.

“Can you…can you not tell anyone else, please?”

She’d looked at you like you were crazy, an incredulous scoff escaping her.

“All of Figure 8 will know by tomorrow morning, you can’t be serious,” she shook her head at you with wide and confused eyes.

“Yes, but we both knew there isn’t really anyone from this side of the island you could possibly tell…”

Sarah seemed to understand that you didn’t want her friends knowing, and although you could see she wanted to know why, she eventually nodded.

“...okay. Sure,” she whispered, tilting her head at you. “Are you happy?”

You had opened and closed your mouth, prepared to lie when she continued.

“You just…don’t seem all that happy.”

“Of course, I am,” you’d said with a deep breath. “Rafe and I are getting married. Why wouldn’t I be?”

It was a loaded question, one you hoped you would never have to answer honestly.

With the heaviness of the ring on your finger and Rafe’s suffocating presence and your mother’s choking enthusiasm about the eventual wedding, you took full advantage the next time Rafe and Ward went out of town, telling Sarah you’d love to come over and hang out with her and Cleo and Kie. You desperately needed a break from the constant reminder that the rest of your life was about to begin.

You had left the ring in your bedroom because you just wanted one night without thinking about it, but you appreciated your decision all the more when the boys had unexpectedly shown up. Nevermind the fact that you weren’t quite ready to face JJ, but you really weren't ready to face him with a huge rock on your finger, and the words on your tongue explaining to him what it meant.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Cleo had half heartedly apologized when she answered the door, pressing a kiss to Pope’s cheek. “...but the house is empty, yeah?”

It was true.

Wheezie was staying with a friend and Rose was on an overnight girls’ trip. You couldn’t even find it in you to be nervous about being around the guys with Rafe none the wiser. You were at his house, and it would take nothing to just drive home, but most importantly, oddly enough, you were more concerned with being face to face with JJ again, at the moment.

Like a coward, you were unable to look him in the eye when you heard his voice for the first time in a month, and you were thankful that too much was going on for your uncharacteristic silence to be noticeable. You felt his gaze on you though, goosebumps erupting over your skin and feeling much hotter, but your eyes remained on your lap.

You only looked up just in time to see him brush past Kie to find a seat, and your brows furrowed as you looked between them. You had never known JJ to be cold, it just wasn’t like him, but there was no doubt about it that he was giving Kie the cold shoulder. The dark-haired girl saw your frown, and she merely shook her head.

“I feel like we haven’t seen you in years,” Pope said to you, reaching out for a high-five.

“Sure feels that way, don’t it.”

JJ’s comment made you grimace, and when you dared to look over at him, his gaze was already on you.

Coming face to face with him after what felt like forever made your heart skip a beat, and you struggled to look away.

“Sorry,” you eventually apologized to Pope, ignoring JJ’s comment. “Rafe and family stuff just took up so much time.”

He waved off your apology, assuring you that he was joking, but you knew that JJ wasn’t, and when the blond got up to get a drink, you impulsively followed. The rest of them—sans Kie—were none the wiser, and you briefly glanced over your shoulder before going into the kitchen. JJ was standing in the fridge, and it was only hitting you in that moment that you hadn’t seen nor talked to him in weeks.

You already knew that you missed him, but it was hitting you much harder as you stood so close to him while being unable to touch him. He looked like he was doing okay, and his hair was just as blond, and when he straightened, you were reminded of what it felt like to have those arms wrapped around you. You missed the feeling, and you missed running your hands through his hair and falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat whenever you had the chance.

In this moment, it was very hard to remember why you had left him. However, you reminded yourself that you hadn’t followed him to talk about you two. There was no ‘you two’ anymore.

There was just you, and there was just JJ.

“Why are you treating Kie like that?”

JJ didn’t respond at first, merely turning to you and staring you down for a few moments before a mocking smirk graced his pink lips.

“That’s all you have to say to me…?”

You didn’t respond to that, and when it became clear that you simply wouldn’t, JJ scoffed. He shook his head, opening a beer that was meant for Ward, no doubt, before leaning his back against the counter.

“You know why,” was what he said with a straight face.

Now, it was your turn to scoff.

“It’s not her fault,” you defended, continuing when he started to shake his head. “She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, anything that we didn’t already know. We were just choosing to ignore it.”

“You told me you weren’t going to let what she said get to you. You nodded, you assured me of that, and then I don’t hear from you for a month.”

He’d dropped the cavalier facade, and you could see the anger and hurt passing over his features. 

“You don’t answer my calls, you don’t answer my texts, and if it wasn’t for Sarah, I wouldn’t have even known you were alive.”

“JJ-.”

“We were happy-.”

“We were delusional,” you quietly hissed. “Kie was right. Don’t hate her for something that was inevitable.”

That word seemed to bother JJ, and you watched as his features hardened. Your former lover stared at you for what felt like a long time before glancing away. You watched him press his tongue to the inside of his cheek, and you didn’t like the look he fixed you with.

“Did you forget the deal we made…?”

When you frowned at him, he continued.

“That I would keep quiet about Rafe so long as you let me be there for you?”

You shifted your feet, feeling uncomfortable at the mention of that. You didn’t say anything, not wanting to acknowledge that, but JJ merely nodded with a hum. He took another swig of beer, and you really hated the look he fixed you with then.

“If you’re not going to hold up your end of the deal then why should I hold up mine?”

Your heart sank to your gut at that, and you blinked at JJ in disbelief, unable to believe that even he believed he was capable of what he was insinuating. Not only that, but it was such a cruel thing to even bluff about, and you let out a dry chuckle.

“JJ…that’s… No,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t answer your question, choosing to gesture to the living room.

“What’s to stop me from pulling Sarah aside and telling her exactly why you hardly have a life outside of your relationship with her brother?”

Your lips parted, and you just stared at him…unable to believe what you were hearing.

“You won’t let me be there for you,” he spat out with a shrug. “...and someone has to be.”

You finally found your voice, and you blinked back tears.

“That’s not your decision to make,” you quietly bit out.

“...and I disagree,” he argued, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head. “We’re not talking about the typical asshole boyfriend here. Your life is in danger every time you’re around him.”

You furiously blinked, looking towards the ceiling.

“As long as he’s happy…I’m safe,” you breathed, lips trembling as you looked at JJ again. “I just have to-.”

“...and when Ward pisses him off again? When you’re not as cold as you should be to some strange man? When he decides Topper was a bit too nice to you? Then what?”

JJ moved closer with every question, a sneer on his lips as he stared you down.

“There’s no way to keep a guy like that happy.”

You flinched, leaning away from JJ as he leaned in. He looked between your tearful eyes, and while yes he was angry and hurt over how you decided to end things, you could see clear as day that JJ was also scared. He was scared for you and whatever future was available to you now that you’d decided to completely submit to Rafe and what he wanted for you both.

His face softened the longer he stared at you, and just as he lifted his hand, footsteps reached your ears.

You were in front of the open fridge just as John B. came in, handing him a drink when he asked for one. You stared at the food in front of you while you attempted to fix your face and get your emotions in check. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you wondered if you were just about to fall back into old habits had it not been for the brunette. You slipped out of the kitchen while John B. brought up something from the other day with JJ, and your smile was half hearted as Cleo pulled you to sit beside her.

You tried to engage with them, but it was hard. You couldn’t get JJ’s words out of your mind and how right they were despite your denial of them. Keeping Rafe happy and discouraging him from hurting you would only work for so long at a time. Eventually a day would come where Ward pissed him off and he’d take it out on your body in some form or another. It was inevitable that Topper or Kelce or some other guy would slip and dare to treat you like a human being, something that Rafe would no doubt interpret as a line being crossed.

It made your heart sink to think about.

So caught up in your thoughts, you paid no mind to JJ and John B. returning from the kitchen until you felt liquid spilling all over you and the part of the couch you were sitting on. It smelled too strong to be anything other than beer, and you heard everyone scold JJ just as you jumped to your feet.

“Why were you trying to carry so many?” Sarah loudly tore into him, alternating between looking over you and looking over the stained couch. “Now Y/N has to change, and you have to fix this couch.”

They briefly went back and forth while you tried to keep your shirt from sticking to you, assuring Sarah it was fine before making your way upstairs to do just as she said you would. You hurried into Rafe’s room, peeling off your shirt and your shorts the moment you were through the threshold. Your skin was already feeling sticky, and if he’d gotten beer on more than just your back and shoulders and arm, then you would’ve admitted defeat and hopped in the shower.

You were half dressed and wiping off the last of it when you heard Sarah’s voice in the hall.

“You have clothes here, right?”

“Yeah,” you called, grabbing one of the many shirts you kept in Rafe’s drawers.

“Okay, because JJ felt bad and wanted to be sure you had something to change into, and then that made me unsure-.”

You were facing her and fully dressed the moment she cut herself off, swallowing the rest of her words. She was just inside of Rafe’s room, hand still on the door handle as she stared at you. Something passed over her face that you’d never seen before, and her brows knitted together as she gave you a strange look.

“What was that?”

Now, it was your turn to frown.

“What was what?”

Her mouth opened and closed—like she was doubting herself—before she tucked some hair behind her ear.

“On your back.”

You felt your skin grow cold at her words, heart sinking as you quickly realized what she was referring to. Now, your mouth opened and closed as you struggled to respond. Your genuine confusion had quickly morphed into something that you normally only felt around Rafe—fear. 

Giving her a soft hum, you pulled on your shirt and twisted around.

“Nothing. The shirt’s clean,” you told her.

Sarah gave a soft chuckle, but sounded off—uncomfortable.

“No, under your shirt…”

You stepped away when she reached for you, and the blonde took notice, that frown returning. It deepened the longer she stared at you, and you attempted to lighten the mood.

“It was probably just the lighting, my back’s fine,” you assured her.

She rolled her eyes at you.

“That didn’t look like a shadow. I know what a shadow looks like-.”

“Sarah, come on, my back is fine,” you waved her off, moving out of her reach. “Let’s just go back downstairs.”

Your attempt to get past her was successful, but your efforts to leave the room were halted when Sarah pulled up on the end of your shirt.

The gasp that she let out was loud—horrified—and when you hurried to turn your back away from her, she had both of her hands over her mouth. Her wide eyes were frozen exactly where your back just was, and it took her a few moments to lift her gaze. All the while, your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest. You stared at her and she stared at you, both of you silent—her with horror and you with fear.

“What the hell is that?” she whispered when she finally uncovered her mouth.

“Sarah, it’s nothing-.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” she breathed. “There are bruises—that was a bite mark!”

You worriedly looked over your shoulder, scared her voice would carry.

“Where did that come from? Did Rafe do that?”

“It’s not what you think-!”

“Then what is it? Tell me what it is since it’s not what I think,” she spat.

You struggled to come up with an answer, resigned to admit that the truth—while bad—was the best thing you had up your sleeve.

“Things get a little rough sometimes in bed-.”

Sarah cut you off with a scoff, shaking her head at you.

“I don’t believe that,” she cried. “Even if I did, that looks disgusting and painful!”

She hurried to get past you, and you struggled to stop her.

“What are you doing?” you asked her, voice panicked.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m calling our father-.”

“Sarah, stop!”

She twisted out of your grip, and you chased her down the hall. Your mingled voices were loud as you argued, bouncing off of the walls as you chased her down the stairs. You didn’t pay any mind to her friends and what they were witnessing, only concerned with stopping Sarah from picking up her phone. You could feel their eyes on you as you grabbed her again, Sarah fighting to get you off of her.

“Woah, woah, hey!” John B. yelled, jumping in to separate you two.

“Sarah, leave it-!”

“Are you crazy? You expect me to just-.”

She was cut off as John B. successfully pulled her away from you, a hand on your own arm pulling you away. The problem arose again when John B. let her go, and you pushed your hand against the person behind you to get to her phone before she did. You both fought over it, you on top of her on the couch as you tried to yank it out of her hands. 

You could feel several pairs of hands between you, attempting to separate you again and keep it that way. JJ’s voice was in your ear as he pulled you off of her, your legs kicking out as you pointed at her phone.

“JJ, stop her,” you tearfully spat. “She’s trying to call Ward.”

When he made you face him, his own was twisted into confusion, and he kept his arms wrapped around you.

“What are you talking about? Why is she trying to call Ward?”

“Okay, both of you calm down,” Cleo spoke up, and when you looked over you saw that she was holding Sarah’s phone up and out of reach. “What’s going on?”

“She’s hurt! It’s all over her back,” Sarah choked out, chest heaving and face distressed. 

At those words, JJ tensed against you, and you gave him a pleading look when his eyes finally met yours again.

“She tried to give me some bullshit story, but I don’t believe it,” the words tumbled out of Sarah’s mouth, and JJ let you go. “JJ, she-.”

“I know,” he said as he neared her, Sarah speaking to him the moment she noticed his approach.

“No, you don’t know. There are bruises all over her back…” you felt several pairs of eyes on you at that. “...and…and…”

“Sarah, I know-.”

“No, you don’t understand-!”

“Sarah, I know,” JJ finally screamed, taking her shoulders and gently shaking her.

The entire house was quiet as his words lingered in the air, and you swore that you could hear a needle drop. Your entire body was trembling for so many reasons, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as Sarah’s eyes widened, her gaze never breaking from JJ’s. So many emotions passed over her features—confusion, understanding, shock, betrayal—before finally settling on two.

Sarah was horrified…and angry.

“You know?” she whispered. “What…? What does that even mean?”

She looked between you two, and you weren’t able to hold her gaze, your eyes landing on the floor. You were the center of attention at the moment, and you certainly felt it.

“H-how long have you…?”

JJ didn’t answer her unfinished question right away, sighing.

“I found out months ago…”

He trailed off at the audible reaction he got, and when you looked up, Sarah’s lips were parted. John B. was behind her, and he was looking between you and JJ with an expression that rivaled his girlfriend’s.

“Months?”

Sarah turned her gaze to you again.

“Months?” she choked out. “Months…”

She repeated it like she couldn’t believe it, and JJ took advantage of her shock to get his point across.

“Sarah, you cannot call Ward,” JJ slowly told her.

“Why the hell not?” John B. wondered, and you were sure you’d never heard him sound so angry.

“...because he’s with Rafe.”

Kie whispered it, coming to the same conclusion and realization that you and JJ were trying to lead Sarah to. The blonde girl in question looked at Kie in shock as if she herself just realized that, and she furiously blinked, shaking her head.

“Kie’s right, okay? He’s with Rafe, and you cannot call him about this. Not now, not ever…”

Only you and JJ knew that Ward was well aware of his son’s nature, and neither of you seemed eager to break that news to Sarah who was so sure her father would be the person to call because he’d do what was right.

“I don’t believe this,” she shakily whispered, twisting a hand into the hair at the top of her head. “He’s hurting you, and I’m just expected to-.”

“Yes,” JJ snapped at her. “You don’t understand-.”

“You’re right, I don’t understand!” they were in each other’s faces. “I don’t understand how Rafe has been hurting her for months apparently and I’ve been in the complete dark about it. I don’t understand how you knew and didn’t say anything!”

JJ sharply inhaled.

“I don’t understand how you’re standing here and telling me not to pick up the phone, and she’s agreeing. I don’t understand any of this,” Sarah tearfully said, shoving JJ. 

You stumbled back before turning away and searching for your purse. The sight of them arguing—because of you—and the feeling of everyone staring at you and knowing the truth was making you lightheaded and nauseous all at once, and you desperately wanted to be anywhere but here.

Kie called your name first, and then Pope, but you were already at the door when JJ finally chased after you. You could hear Sarah and Kie going back and forth as you stepped outside, and your vision was blurry when JJ finally caught up with you.

“They’re going to talk to her, okay?”

You sniffed, hurrying towards your car.

“She’s confused and scared and mad, right now, so she doesn’t get it, but she will,” JJ assured you. “We’re gonna talk to her.”

JJ’s hand was on your arm as you reached your car, and you stared at your reflections in the window for a few moments before a sob escaped you. JJ pulled you into his arms, gently shushing you as you cried into his shoulder. He didn’t offer any words of encouragement because this was an unprecedented situation, and neither of you knew what was going to happen from here. Nobody else was ever supposed to know.

…but especially Sarah.

JJ held you for the longest time, and resolute in your decision to end things with him, you allowed yourself to bask in the feeling. You deeply inhaled and relaxed at the familiar scent that was JJ Maybank. You allowed yourself to find comfort in the warmth of his arms, and you could feel JJ doing the same.

When he started to pull away, he kept his arms around you, and when you glanced up, your eyes met his. He looked sad for you and scared for you but above all, he looked like he missed you, and when JJ started to lean in, you swallowed.

“Rafe asked me to marry him…”

The blond froze.

“...and I said yes.”

Your lips brushed his as you spoke, and he remained there for a moment or two before finally leaning back to look you in the eyes. If you thought JJ looked horrified before, it was nothing in comparison to how he looked after hearing that you and Rafe were getting married.

“...and if I asked you not to?”

You gave a humorless chuckle.

“I’d say that a girl can dream.”

JJ softly said your name, and you shrugged.

“I wanted you to hear it from me,” you whispered. “He asked me in front of our families and all of their friends, so it’s not like I could say no.”

You watched as JJ’s expression hardened.

“This was never fair to you,” you said to him.”Please, stop hating Kie for pointing that out.”

“I can make my own damn decisions,” JJ threw out, and you swallowed down a sigh. “...and right now, I’m telling you that I’m not letting you marry him.”

It was a good thing that you didn’t know how to respond to that, because JJ continued.

“I’m not letting that happen,” he sneered. “The thought of you marrying that asshole makes me sick.”

You moved away from him, pushing his hands away when he reached for you.

“JJ, it’s over. I’m actually saying out loud this time,” you sadly told him. “Stop calling me, stop texting me, and… I won’t stop you from staying in the pool house, but I told you that my father-.”

“I’m not abandoning you. You can’t make me,” he cut you off, and you swallowed as he looked between your eyes. “This isn’t what you want, and I’m not gonna let you do this.”

“JJ, it’s done,” you firmly said to him. “Rafe and I are engaged. He asked my father’s permission, my mother is beside herself planning the whole wedding…and you and I are over.”

You looked between his eyes.

“That’s how things are supposed to be.”

The silence that stretched between you was thick and tense, and you swallowed at the way JJ ran his gaze over you. When he reached behind you to open your door, you sharply inhaled, moving closer to him to allow him to widen it. The blond leaned in then and pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a few seconds. You closed your eyes, and he breathed you in.

“I’ll talk to Sarah.”

He assured you of that when you slid into the driver’s seat, but he didn’t acknowledge anything you said, and that made you nervous. He shut your door for you, and as you started your car, you were having a hard time believing your own words when you told him that you were over.

[suiana]

yandere! priest and gn! succubus/incubus guys... omg...

he's a devoted little thing, so passionate to his religion and his god. his mind and heart are pure, never straying from his faith even when the most beautiful of people had thrown themselves at him.

and then you came stumbling right into his life.

you, a sex demon. all skimpy clothes, flirty and giving him bedroom eyes in a church. it was even worse that you had thrown yourself at him on your first meeting, clinging to his arm like some clingy lover.

"hey pretty boy~ wanna show me a good time?"

"the only good time i have is when I'm thinking of my god. do you want to join a sermon?"

maybe it was because he was so holy but he wasn't repulsed by you. flashing you a gentle smile as he allowed you to cling to him. oh, a sinner. how pitiful. it's no matter, if you repent enough and ask for forgiveness, he's sure that even god will accept you. he'll help you find the right path that is god. you've fallen right into his arms after all. it must be fate and perhaps he was meant to help you.

you don't quite share the same sentiment though.

you just wanna fuck that priest. his cute face, sweet little laughter... devil below you want that man. plus you hadn't fed in days... you're practically starving over here!

"come on... just some head? i bet your pretty mouth could be out to better use than some sermons."

"yes, a better use would be when I'm holding your hand and bringing you to the light of salvation."

he's always so calm and composed. all smiles and a calm demeanour that never exposes what he's feeling. even his eyes are smiling, damn. it's a bit scary that you can't accurately tell what he's feeling. the only thing you have is the slightly obsessive and unsettling darkness his eyes seem to contain. nah, can't be anything much. he's just a priest who wants to play hard to get.

it's infuriating, you think.

you continue to hold on a little longer. maybe he'll crack sooner or later? he's just a man after all... and you're a gorgeous thing meant for temptation... he'll give in right? right? you continue pestering him, clinging to his side as you ignore the horrified looks the other clerics and church goers give you as you beg for the monstrous dick you know he's packing.

but he doesn't show any signs of budging and you eventually try leaving because you're so starved that it hurts. like damn! you still need to feed! and if he's not gonna give it to you, you'll just find someone else!

however...

"where do you think you're doing?"

"huh? priesty boy? you following me?"

"yes."

"???"

you're confused as he practically rips you off of the random guy you picked off the street, dragging you back to the church with him. and all while he continued to smile at you like he always has. only this time, this smile harboured some... ill intent.

"oi at least tell me what you're doing-"

"i am going to punish you."

"punish?"

he stops in his tracks, turning to smile at you as hus grip around your wrist tightens painfully. you wince at the force he's using, desperately trying to tug your hand away. what the hell?

the priest doesn't let you. if anything, his grip only tightened even more. what's worse is that he's now punning you to the wall, caging you in as he stares down deep into your soul with his deep and unnerving eyes.

"yes, punish."

he continues to smile at you, simply caging you against the wall before his voice drops.

"it's the job of a priest to guide newcomers to repentance and i intend to do that with you. yet, you've almost committed an act of sin. i cannot allow that to pass, my dear."

what the- what is he doing?!

"you'll understand once I'm done with you. after all, the god above has personally given you to me as a mission and a gift."

he mumbles, leaning into your lips before his smile lowers into a creepy and unsettling smirk. bruh you might be a demon but this guy right here has got to be the devil's spawn or something. what is he yapping about? gift? mission? you just want some dick!

"hey I don't understand-"

"of course you don't. you're confused."

he cuts you off before you can say anything. his face way too close for comfort as you try sinking into the wall. um... you don't think you wanna play anymore...

"it's okay. I'll help you understand. I'll help you understand your true purpose and that is to repent and be born anew."

he pauses, tilting his head before his smile widens unnaturally.

"that way we can actually be together under the eyes of god. you want to copulate, yeah?"

huh? what's sex gotta do with this?

"after you've finally repented, I'll give you what you want. sex is an intimate and special thing between two people in love. don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for you to fall for me."

wait what?!

[mirai-lunar]

Girl I LOVE your fic <3 I love how different the reader is depending on the variant and I would love to read a part 2 with some of the other variants that you didn't do yet!

Good idea ♡ I also plan to write more about the previous variants in the near future, so this will be like a bonus chapter.

(Bonus) Invincible Variants X Fem! Reader

Includes: Masked Mark, Veil Invincible (Shiesty Mark), Unmasked Mark, Viltrum Mark

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: Dark Content, Violence, Yandere Behavior

Masked Mark

This Invincible was sorrowful. 

“Oh no, how horrible…”

You stood in your kitchen, a small knife in hand. 

You had originally been chopping up some ingredients, but your eyes were now glued to your Tv, watching recaps of the chaos that unfolded over the world. 

As you focused your attention back to chopping, the sound of a window opening caused you to jolt. 

You quickly caught your breath, before wincing in pain soon after. Your knife had sliced through your hand in the spur of the moment. 

But you couldn’t worry about that now. Someone was breaking in.

You crouched low, hiding behind a table. 

Heavy footsteps could be heard, and you clutched the knife to your chest. When the footsteps were close and had stopped, you decided this was your time to act. 

You quickly leapt out from your hiding spot, ready to stab whoever you saw. But to your surprise, no one was there.

That is, until you looked up.

Someone was floating in the air above you, and was looking directly at you.

You gasped, and the person put their hands out.

“It’s okay! I won’t hurt you!” He said. 

He was wearing black and blue, and his mask completely covered his face. His voice didn’t seem to hold any ill intent, but then again, he had just broken into your home.

You recognized who he was, and you now knew your situation was dire.

“You’re… one of those Invincible Imitators on the news…” You whispered, taking a step back.

“Y/n, I promise I won’t hurt-”

“How the hell do you know my name!?” You snapped. As he moved closer, you outstretched the knife in your hand, your eyes narrowed. “Stay. Back.”  

To your surprise, he stopped moving towards you, his once outstretched hands falling to his side. The only distance between you two now was your arm’s length.

“...You’re hurt,” he murmured.

You had completely forgotten about the cut on your hand. The dripping blood had now accumulated into a tiny puddle just below your feet. 

He then turned away, making a beeline for your bathroom. This left you confused, until he returned with your first aid kit in hand. 

“I’ll explain everything, but please, let me help with that.”

 …

Your instincts were screaming at you to fight, but you had seen what one of these guys could do to an entire city. So you instead lowered the knife on the table.

He washed the blood off your hands, cleaning the area as he spoke to you. 

“I know your name because… I know you. When you were alive in my world, we loved each other.”

What? 

“Some terrible things happened. I lost mom and then you… I couldn’t handle it,” he explained. He sounded so… troubled. You winced as he applied ointment, and he quickly apologized. “But I was given a second chance here. I could save you, I could save her…”

He now wrapped your hand in a bandage. Once it was firmly secured, his hand gently grazed across yours, before looking up at you.

“I didn’t want to be a monster, but I had to be. For mom, and for you.”

He didn’t seem sadistic, or even cocky. He was just… sad. You almost felt sorry for him. 

Almost. 

You snatched your now bandaged hand away from him. Your eyes looked directly into his goggles, the sound of pure hatred in your voice. 

“I could never love you.”

That completely shattered his heart.

“Y/n… please don’t say that...” he whispered. It sounded like he was on the verge of tears. 

Great, now you felt like a monster.

You looked away, a pang of regret on your face. As he spoke again you looked back at him.

“We can talk more later.” His hand locked around your wrist, and your heart dropped. “I found you, but I still need to find mom.”

“I can’t go with you,” you said, trying to pull away from his grip. He was not letting go. “This isn’t right. You can’t just take what you want.” 

“I don’t know if the others know about you, so it isn’t safe to stay here-” 

“Let, go of me,” you said. Your free hand reached for your knife, before ramming the weapon into his arm. The knife immediately snapped on impact, breaking itself but not his skin. You cursed aloud and tried to pry his hand off you, but he only pulled you into a gentle hug, now locking both your hands to your side. “Let go!!!”

You kept screaming and he frowned. Your yelling would only bring more attention to the two of you once he left the house. 

“Y/n, please.”

“No!! No!!! You can’t-”

You then felt a sudden pain on the side of your neck, your vision instantly blurring. Your cries for help had ceased, and your body now went limp in his arms. His swift attack had knocked you completely out.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. Seeing you unresponsive made him immediately regret his actions. “I had to...”

He held you close for a bit, before once again making his way towards the window. 

“I’ll change my ways, I promise. But for now, I have to be this monster.”

Veil Invincible

“Find me a good interview. Or today will be your last, Y/n.”

His variant was arrogant. 

As you sat in the backseat of the news van, your boss’s words lingered in your head. This was an ultimatum. If you didn’t get a good interview before the end of the day, then your dream of being a reporter was over. 

You needed to find someone worth interviewing, and that’s when you saw him. 

He was clad in blue and yellow, and had a mask that fell down his face, similar to a veil. Only one thought shot through your mind. 

Invincible! Bingo. 

“Stop the car!” You exclaimed. 

The driver barely had time to slam on the brakes before you pulled the door open. As you hopped out, you noticed that civilians ran past you in fear. You calmed yourself before running towards the destruction, slowly making your way closer to the hero. 

He wiped the bottom of his face, taunting those who he had just beaten.

“Is this the best you’ve got? Come on, I’ve barely broken a sweat!” 

“Excuse me! Excuse me! Mister Invincible!” 

He turned to the sound of the voice, noticing that your calls were specifically directed at him. You were in a tailored suit, and was dangling off a somewhat large piece of rubble. 

It seems you attempted to climb over that rubble to get to him?

You then abruptly let go, dropping just a bit before landing on your butt. It took some time, but you eventually picked yourself up, dusted off your suit, and quickly made your way towards him. 

What the fuck was he seeing?

Were you going to fight him? No, it wasn’t that. You just looked determined. 

He dropped his fighting pose, before resting both hands on his hips.

Now he had to know what you wanted. 

You mentally prepared yourself as you now stood right in front of him.

“Hello Mr. Invincible!” You happily said. Your eyes sparkled, and he was genuinely confused. Shouldn’t you be running away?

“....Uh, Hello?”

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” You said. 

He looked you over, noticing you were wearing an earpiece and holding a microphone in your hands. 

Oh, so you were a reporter. That explains the outfit. 

He turned away from you before throwing up a hand, waving you off. 

“Sorry lady, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“...O..oh..”

That left you embarrassed.

You remained in place for a bit, eyes focused to the ground.

“But, you answered when I called…” you murmured, clutching your microphone. “I thought you were him…?”

Maybe your boss was right. You weren’t cut out for this. The weight of constant failure was becoming too much.  

You thanked him for his time, tears spilling down your face as you turned away. 

“Wait wait… You just can’t go off crying without telling me what’s wrong,” he said, a sigh leaving his lips. You hesitated, your back still faced away from him as he continued to speak. “Go on.”

“I need an interview.” You were embarrassed that you were even mentioning this. You quickly wiped your face. “Or my boss will fire me today.”

“Now that’s fucked! You seem to be doing a good job in my opinion,” he said. The fact that you were out here without a care for your safety was amusing to him. You quietly thanked him. “Seems like you really need that interview. I’ve got time.”

You spun around to face him, your eyes now lit up. 

“Really? Thank you so much Mr. Invincible!” 

He held back laughter. Where did all the tears go?

You looked to your left and noticed your camera crew in the distance. You happily waved them over, but to your surprise they seemed… panicked?

“What’s wrong? Guys, I’m over here!!” You yelled. Now he was laughing as he spoke.

“I’ll bring you over to them.” 

He then lifted you into his arms, before flying you to where your camera crew was. As he set you down, you encouraged your camera crew to set up, and they quickly did so upon seeing the cracking knuckles of a certain Invincible. 

Once you were given the all clear you began your interview.

“Hello everyone! This is Y/n L/n, and I am joined today with our hero, Mr. Invincible! Now, Mr. Invincible, what are your opinions on the current catastrophe?” 

“Well, I’d say this place was definitely overdue for a remodeling.” 

You laughed at his silly joke, but your camera crew were dying inside.

“-But as long as I can fight someone, I’ll keep fighting, no matter what,” he said. You smiled at him.

“I applaud your tenacity! Have your recent battles been tough?” You asked.

“Some yes, most no. But this world does have a lot to offer.” 

“I see. Anything else you’d like to say before we sign off?”

He waved to the camera. 

“Stay safe out there! You never know who you’re dealing with. Or talking to!”

As the cameras shut off and your camera crew ran for their lives, you thanked him profusely. You were ecstatic to finally get an interview, and from Invincible no less!

“I’m sorry for taking up your time, especially with so much going on…” you murmured. “But I truly appreciate it.”

“No prob. You did a good job out there, lady.” He said as he leaned in. You leaned in as well and pecked the side of his face, him freezing in place at the sudden kiss. 

“My name is Y/n, Mr. Invincible.”

“...Fuck- Do you kiss every person you interview?”

“Nope, you’re the first.” 

He then pulled you close, and the two of you shared a passionate kiss…

In the midst of total chaos. 

As you both pulled away, you were on cloud nine. You silently thanked your camera crew for not being here to see this. 

“You mind if I speak with your boss? I need to let him know how much of a mistake it is to fire you,” he said.

Now Invincible was going to speak to your boss on your behalf? Your day just kept getting better!

“I don’t mind at all!” You happily said. You handed him a card specific to your news station and he browsed over the address. “Feel free to visit anytime!”

“How about we both go together right now? It’ll be faster.”

“Oh! Okay then!”

He lifted you into his arms, and you happily wrapped your arms around his neck. As he took off into the sky, you smiled brightly.

Today was a perfect day.

Unmasked Mark 

*Note: This variant's love for you is purely platonic.

This variant was quiet. 

You were one of his closest friends, so he had to do this.

Your left hand wiped across your face, noticing the alarming amount of red that now painted your fingers. 

It was blood. But it wasn’t yours. 

You slowly turned to your left, seeing a person clad in yellow and blue. His face was completely visible, and he was crouched low, his eyes focused on his latest victim. Or more like what was left of them.

Your fiancé. 

The body was unrecognizable. This monster had left your lover in a mangled mess. 

As he stood, he was drenched in blood. You covered your mouth and turned away, trying to prevent yourself from vomiting up your insides. 

“Oh God, this can’t be happening…” 

He flicked the blood off his hands, but didn’t bother with the splatters of blood across his face. He held a look of disdain, his eyes focused on what was once your fiancé. When he looked at you though, his eyes softened.

He didn’t say anything. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“Why…?” You whispered. Tears spilled from your face. “He’s not dead. He can’t be…”

“...”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” You screamed. “He was my fiancé!! I loved him!!”

He looked away, his gaze now focused to the left of him.

Your response to this situation was justified. But he really hated that guy. Your fiancé had murdered you in a fit of rage in his world. 

So if he killed him now, you wouldn’t have to worry about that. It seemed to be the most logical thing to do. 

He was certain you would find someone else. 

“...I’m sorry,” he murmured. He wasn’t remorseful of his actions in the slightest. But he did feel bad you witnessed that. 

Maybe he should have waited a little longer to kill him.

Your eyes widened at his response. 

“You’re apologizing? That’s all you have to say?!”

His hands were clasped just below his stomach, listening attentively to you. In any other situation you would have sworn he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but you had just seen him violently slam your lover’s head in. 

“Say something!” You choked out, tears now pouring from your eyes. You couldn’t muster the courage to look at your other half anymore, already scarred for life. 

So you just cried aloud, covering your bloodied face with your hands. You just wanted this all to end. 

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, your body froze in place. You were too frightened to keep crying, let alone look up. His words were haunting. 

“You can be with someone else… I won’t kill them.” 

Not unless he had to. 

He didn’t know if that was the right thing to say at the moment, but he meant it. He ultimately felt responsible for your death in his world.

And he would not let that happen again. 

You pushed away from him, running into the night. The sidewalks were dimly lit, and the faint smell of smoke filled the burning city. Your screams for help were drowned out by the sounds of wailing sirens. 

He stayed in place for a while, looking up to the starry night above.

Hopefully you’ll forgive him.

He then took to the skies, his eyes scanning the world below. He needed to keep track of you. When he spotted your running form in the distance, he moved down to speak. 

“I can take you home.”

“Stay away from me!!” You screamed, clutching your head. Why was he still here? Did he enjoy seeing you suffer?

“Y/n…”

“Shut up!! Shut up!!!” 

You then veered away from him, running into the streets. You were too in your head, and the only thing that caught your attention was the blaring sound of a large vehicle. You stared ahead into the blinding light, before happily sighing, grateful that you’d be joining your lover soon. 

Or so you thought. 

In an instant, he stood in front of you, hand outstretched. 

The truck slammed into him, the entirety of its front crushing in from the intense pressure. Your eyes watched in horror as the once speeding vehicle was now forced to a complete stop. The front lights flickered on and off, giving you glimpses of the now dead passengers.   

He was completely unharmed. He then turned, his eyes focused on you.

“Let me take you home. It’s safe there.”

He gently lifted you into his arms, and you silently sobbed. You didn’t want to go. Not with him. 

Death... The only thing that ever followed him was death…

Viltrum Mark

This variant was serious.

“Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

You peeked your head out from behind the dark shower curtain, raising a brow. 

This guy had barged into your home (and your bathroom) completely unannounced, then told you that you were leaving? Who was this guy?

“Let me guess, Cecil sent you?” You asked, looking him over. He was dressed in a white and grey uniform. When he replied with a ‘No’, you laughed. “Okay then, who did?”

“I am here on my own accord.”

You couldn’t help but smile, despite him maintaining that cold gaze. 

“Could you have at least waited until I was done showering?”

…

You then pulled your head back behind the shower curtain, shutting off the water. 

“Give me a minute to get dressed. We’ll talk then.” 

He now stood against the wall outside your bathroom door. Once you finished putting on some clothes you opened the door and walked past him, before sitting comfortably at a desk in your room. 

You maintained some distance, and silence soon followed. 

“Okay, who are you?” You asked. His gaze felt like it was burning a hole through your head. “Have we met? If I pissed you off somehow then I apologize-”

“I’m your husband.” He calmly stated. Oh…? “We will be returning back to my world together.”

….What?

You remained quiet, noticing the serious look in his eyes. 

“Really?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand. “I don’t recall marrying you, or anyone else for that matter… Are you sure you’ve got the right person?” 

“I am sure, Y/n.”

“You know my name…” you said, smiling a little. So what? A lot of people knew your name. “What’s yours? Oh husband of mine~”

He internally sighed. You rarely took things seriously. How he fell in love with you, he’d never know.

“We’ll talk later. Gather some personal belongings. We will not be returning.”

You frowned at his words.

“What if I don’t want to go?” You asked him.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

You then lifted a finger, and every piece of furniture in your room slammed into him within an instant.

Yes, you had powers. But you were sure he probably knew that. 

You quickly stood and waited for the smoke to clear. Once it did, you noticed that he was still standing in the same place, calmly waving the dust in the air away. 

“That little attack of yours accomplished nothing,” He stated. He then crossed his arms, before he sent you a small smile. “Want to try again?” 

Great.

You immediately flew out of your open window, your mind racing.

“Of course he’s superpowered. Why did he have to be superpowered?” You murmured. You looked behind yourself for a split second, and to your horror he was right on your heels. His outward expression was calm as he followed you. While you were fearful, he was in a good mood. 

He hadn’t chased you in a while. 

You zigzagged through the air, narrowly avoiding his attempts to grab you. Each of his grabs were calculated, and your window of error was becoming too small. One attempt of his was enough to graze your ankle, and your blood went cold. 

Dammit.

You were out of breath. As you looked up at him though, you noticed that he had barely broken a sweat. 

A small smile was on his lips as he stayed suspended in midair, no longer bothering to chase you. The two of you were apart as you also remained in the air, weighing your options.

You couldn’t keep flying around like this. Your powers heavily sapped at your strength-

“If you had just followed orders,” he told you. “You wouldn’t be in this situation Y/n.”

Smug bastard.

You then shot off higher into the air. As he closed the distance, you spun around to face him, before extending both of your hands. You used every ounce of power you had left. This forced him to a complete halt, his movements freezing in midair.

You were gasping now, attempting to catch your breath. Thankfully, he still wasn’t moving. You waited a few moments, before talking to him. 

“God, what are you made of?” You asked him. “I used everything to stop you. It felt like stopping a mountain.”

“...”

“You can still talk, you know,” you lightly teased him. You moved closer to get a better look at him. “However, you won’t be able to move for a while.” 

He then immediately moved towards you, and your heart dropped. The smile on your face was gone in an instant, now replaced with pure disbelief. 

“...How?” You whispered. No one, and you mean no one got out of your hold once you stopped them.

“You never stopped me,” he stated, now centimeters away from your face. “I am aware of how your powers work.” 

So he was pretending you stopped him? Lovely.

“I see…” You murmured. Well, it was over for you. You were completely out of strength, and would fall out of the sky any second now.

As if he knew, he wrapped both arms around you, holding you up. 

You sighed bitterly before speaking. 

“Okay then husband-” You felt his lips press against your neck and your heart raced. His hair tickled the side of your face as he leaned in. You then placed your hands in his hair, before attempting to pry him off you. He didn’t budge. “...You won, for now.”

His lips now pressed against your cheek as he spoke.

“I always win,” he murmured. You frowned as he continued, “Especially when I’m with you.”

~

How was this longer than my previous post...?

I've currently written for 9 different variants in total, and my sanity is leaving me. So the number will definitely have to dwindle back down lol.

[girlsworldillusion]

I'd let the world burn for you

•

Summary: Amid the severe consequences of war, Aemond finds himself alone, without the presence and support of his young and sweet wife, who insists on staying away from him, afraid of who he has become. He has been a respectful and patient husband. But tonight he feels like he has finally reached his limit.

Author's note: Please, pay attention to the tags. This story contains sensitive topics, such as: +18, SEX, SEVERE INTERNAL CONFLICT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, POSSESSIVE/OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, EMOTIONAL DEPENDENCY, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP AND MORE.

word count: 6k

There is no specific description of which house the reader belongs to, so feel free to fill this in as you wish.

English is not my native language, forgive me for any spelling mistakes.

Good reading!

He can taste vomit in his esophagus.

Aemond knows it wouldn't be too difficult to get out what little he ate. He coughs as discreetly as he can into the back of his hand before taking off his eye patch, wanting to splash some cold water on his face and throat. He pretends not to notice how his hands are a little shaky as he pulls the gloves off of them, cupping his fingers inside the basin left by the servants on the table. The cool water feels refreshing on his hot skin, and with a satisfied hiss, he looks up, staring directly at the reflection of his own face in the mirror.

The flickering flames of the fire near the wall provide no comprehensive illumination, and he is honestly relieved by that. What little he can see is disturbing enough. His single lilac eye is bloodshot, his silver hair is disheveled, so different from normal. Paleness in the face, sunken cheeks. The subtle glow of the blue stone in his other eye and the deep scars around it only add a dying touch to his ghostly visage.

Another deep tug wracks his stomach and he leans forward, gripping the sides of the table with abandon, preparing to actually throw up this time. But nothing comes, nothing but the painful, nauseating feeling in his body.

He can't forget.

It's all his doing, after all. It's all his fault.

The death of all those people, the desolation of the entire Riverlands. It's all his fault.

Any feeling of greatness and power that previously inhabited his body no longer existed. His superiority and confidence swept away by the tide until he was spat out on the shore with nothing but pain and trauma.

He is a hypocrite and he knows it.

Aemond is not a good person. He doesn't want to fool anyone with his anxiety attack, he definitely doesn't need to take on the role of the poor regretful guy. He doesn't regret what he did, he doesn't regret doing what was absolutely necessary for the good of his family. He could never regret this. And he knows that tomorrow, a week from now, or a month from now, he will do exactly the same thing again if necessary. There are no limits to what he is willing to do to and for those to whom he is loyal.

He can't even dare deny liking it all.

When he's on Vhagar's saddle, with the world in flames just beneath them and the addictive power to decide for good or ill for those poor, hopeless souls, he can swear he's never felt anything better. There's something disturbingly liberating about embracing the monster that resides in his chest. It's surprising to him how good it feels to be ruthless, to take on the role of the uncontrollable beast everyone says he is (rightfully so).

It wasn't always like this. But a series of violent and tragic actions that may or may not have been intentional earned Aemond more than just an ominous codename. They gave him respect; fear. Aemond One-Eye, the son without expectations, the child without any prominence. No more.

He feels ruthless when he is in the skies, dictating the fate of humanity. It gives him power. He is powerful now, he is no longer the boy forgotten by everyone. The feeling of being superior pumps hard through his veins until he goes wild, makes him feel like he's crushing people under the soles of his boots. He is more powerful. Their lives depend solely on the way his hand moves and it turns out that, to their misfortune and terror, his hands are wrapped around the saddle of the largest dragon in the world. It is difficult to be sensible and godly when there is so much power at his command. He is more powerful. There is nothing that can stop him. He feels invincible, unstoppable. He doesn't just enjoy it - he worships this feeling.

At least until it's all over.

When the dust settles and all that is left is the consequence of his actions, it is then that he quietly withers away.

He killed them. All of them. His hands are stained with blood and ash and it's all his fault. He has separated families forever, traumatized so many souls with insurmountable depression and pain and it is all his fault. Adults, elderly, children, babies. All dead. Because of him. Hoarse screams of terror and fear, all begging for a mercy that would never come - could never come. Not by his hands. Not when he had a family and a purpose he was so loyal to.

Aemond worships the sense of power that comes with a reputation for being ruthless and regrets nothing he has done and will do for his duty. Unfortunately, this does not mean that he does not suffer the consequences in equal proportion.

Another sigh. He drops his head and presses his fingers against the edge of the table. He closes his eye so tightly that patches of white light explode into his vision, each labored breath makes him lean forward and clench his teeth. The pain is impossible to ignore – it shakes his insides, leaves his limbs trembling.

"Is this hurting you?" a soft voice asks, a small, fragile thing, almost impossible to hear - if it weren't for the fact that he lives to hear the sound of that voice. He knows this, and so does the owner of the voice, both fully aware of this dangerous dependence. “Pretending to be a God, I mean.”

Aemond feels his heart beat faster, the angelic sound of your voice rescuing him from the merciless depths of his own mind, making him slowly raise his head as he stares at the place where the voice came from. He almost can't believe what he heard. But there you are, sitting on your bed, surrounded by comfortable sheets and pillows, your wide doe eyes catching the moonlight and fire flames in the dark of night, shining like stars.

His sweet wife.

He simply looks at you, not offering any kind of response right away. Not because he doesn't want to. But because he's too surprised to hear your voice and see your face to form words at the moment. Aemond doesn't know how he ended up here, in your private chambers - the place he hasn't been welcome in for some time. He was supposed to go to his chambers. Was he that distraught and distracted? Could the confusion clouding his senses have unconsciously led him directly to the person he needs most at the moment?

He looks around quickly just to confirm that, yes, there is no doubt that he is in your chambers. He didn't intend to do that. He shouldn't be here, invading your privacy and ignoring your request that he keep distance. Of course, his longing and need for you made him consider such a thing countless times. Regardless of your wishes, he was your husband; he had a right to be here. But he never did that. You don't want him in your bed anymore and you've made that clear. And Aemond was not ignorant or even insensitive enough to pretend not to understand your reasons. You had a lot of them and he knows.

You were not made for cruelty. Your innocence and purity made you unable to be aware of the horrible things he did and still treat him the same way as before. You were afraid of him now, just like everyone else. The blood of many was on his hands and you knew it, just as you knew he regretted nothing, and that he would not stop this - not until victory was achieved.

You didn't agree with that, you never did, not even before the marriage. But what could a young woman do in the world they lived in? You were just a piece on a board game, an ace up his sleeve used by your father specifically to provide armies and loyalty to the crown in exchange for a marriage and a more than convenient name for your family.

Aemond knew from the beginning that you didn't want to marry him; how could you after all? You barely knew him beyond the questionable reputation that surrounded him, and a dangerous family clash was about to break out in the kingdom - this was definitely not the right environment for romance to blossom. But you did your duty. You had been an exemplary wife in the short two months of peace that followed your marriage. You treated him with respect and patience, slowly opening your heart to him with each passing day. He wasn't the most talkative or the most sensitive husband and yet you showed empathy for his limitations, accepting what he gave you with gentle smiles and rosy cheeks, without demanding anything more. So sweet. So inocent.

It was no surprise the feeling that welled up in his chest.

Aemond was obsessed before he even realized it. Needing your gentle attentions like a flower needs the sun. He clung to you as his only comfort in an almost bleak existence, he became more and more obsessed with you and you didn't notice. You read with him, walked through the gardens with him and talked to him as you always did, kind and polite. And every day he felt hungrier, pushing the limits of restraint. You welcomed him into your bed every night, welcoming him between your legs as if he belonged there - and he did, indeed. Aemond's appetite for you and you alone knew no bounds.

But he wasn't the man you married anymore, was he?

You fear him now, any and all advances he's made with you over the past few months have vanished into thin air like the ashes he's so used to seeing now. The feelings he was carefully cultivating in your chest now seem to have sunk so deep into your being that he thinks they no longer even exist. You no longer craved his attention; the touch of softness and affection, whenever “husband” dripped from your mouth, was absent. And now all he could do was want.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, not wanting to miss this moment for anything, not after being deprived of it for so long. And you look back at him from where you sit on the bed, chin lifted in false courage. You looks at him with your bright eyes and high cheekbones, which seem even more highlighted in the warm lighting around your bodies.

He may have entered your chambers out of pure unconscious instinct, out of nothing but silent desperation. His body guiding him when his mind no longer could. But now that he's here, he doesn't know how he didn't realize it from the beginning. It's impossible to think about anything other than you. You, you, you.

At this point, deaths at his hands no longer existed. Not his pains or the weights he carries, not revenge, not duty. Anything. Absolutely nothing. There is only this moment, between him, a boy who so wanted to be enough for those he loves and the young girl who is illuminated by the light of the flames.

He feels it. It's not new. That strange impulse that draws all the attention of the environment around him to you and you alone; an almost painful need between his teeth to take a bite and not let go, to have it with all your heart and nothing less.

"Nothing to say?" You press and he's not even embarrassed by the fact that he doesn't remember what you said before. He should leave. It's all he thinks, even as he takes an uncertain step closer to your bed. And that's enough for you to immediately tense up, wrapping your small hands in the sheets to subtly pull them towards you. You are hiding yourself. Hiding yourself from him.

Aemond should leave, continue respecting your limits.

If this had been another night, maybe he would have done it. If the smell of smoke and dragon scales hadn't been trapped in the leather of his war clothes, as well as the dust of ash, then perhaps he could have left. If he couldn't smell the insistent scent of charred bodies and decimated land in his nostrils, taking permanent root in his lungs, perhaps he could respect your innocence.

Not even Aemond knew how on edge he already was. Your refusal of his proximity was just the final push to his downfall.

He adores you. He worships the ground you walk on. He respected your decisions and stayed away much longer than any other husband would have done. And this is how you repay him?

Aemond narrows the only functional eye he has left. You don't react, nothing more than another protective grip on the sheets and a slow swallow of saliva. He wants you so much and the thought enrages him. Why? Why does he feel this way? He desperately wants to punish you for making him feel this way. He wants to punish himself for even thinking about doing this to you.

You left him like this; nothing but a mess. When would you finally accept him for who he is? When would you understand that some cruelties were necessary for the final goal to be achieved? When would you see that everything he did and would do was solely for his family? For you. To keep you safe. When would he be enough?

He grits his teeth and feels his entire body tense with thoughts. He hates it; he hates the way you confuse him and make him feel all these terrible emotions. It makes he feels weak. The temptation of the slightest chance of your affection suffocates his common sense. He feels his hands shaking. He'd been so blinded by the hopeful, innocent vision he constantly saw you through that he fooled himself into thinking he was on your mind as much as you were on his all this time.

"Aemond?" You whisper, sounding more uncertain than before, disturbed by his extended silence as he slowly approaches the bed. He keeps looking at you the whole time, letting you glimpse the flames of fire reflected in the icy sapphire in his eye. He adores you, with every fiber of his being. But the flash of fear that shines in your eyes in response makes him stretch the corner of his lip in a malicious smile. He couldn't help it, there's something sweet and pure about you that makes him constantly waver between wanting to protect you and wanting to destroy you.

You try not to weaken before him, but Aemond immediately notices the way your body is a little trembling when his hand, that same hand that drags the musk of leather and death, passes through the fabric of the sheets, spreading lightning over your legs. You don't stop him, but your eyes flash with a frightened warning, a warning he ignores tonight. His palm flattens against your ribs, daring to caress, to feel the linen of the sheets beneath his fingers, the softness of your flesh beneath it, and you squeak an off-key sound, pulling the cocoon of blankets and furs up to hide you.

A small annoyed growl leaves his lips and his other hand quickly covers yours, stopping you from continuing.

"No. Enough of that." He says in a low but firm tone, looking sternly into your eyes. You part your lips, surprised by his behavior, and try to pull the hand still trapped by his, but he doesn't let you go. "That's enough, wife."

He thinks you might try to deny it, but you fall silent, slowly relaxing against his grip on your hand. Aemond wants to purr at this, wants to praise you and spoil you, because you are so good, so good. His good girl. Even when you're crushing his heart between your delicate hands.

It's not your fault, he tells himself. It's not your fault that he's obsessed with you, driven crazy by the idea of you. Aemond can't even focus properly, even when you're in front of him, defenseless and at the mercy of his whims. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest from pure ecstasy and excitement at the same time. And he can feel, on top of it all, the blood flowing to his hard cock, making it swell beneath his black riding pants. He feels embarrassed by his actions, but at the same time excited, just by the little things you do, by everything you are to him.

“Something is wrong with me...” He says, more to himself than to you, gently pushing a strand of your soft hair behind your ear, sliding his thumb in a gentle caress across your delicate earlobe. “You're in my house. You're in my house and I don't want you to leave. Never." He approaches your face, sliding his fingers from your ear to the side of your face, until he holds your small chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I need you." He continues, ignoring how honest and frank he looks - weak. “I keep thinking of ways to make this happen,” the more he talks, the faster you breathe, sweet little sighs near his lips, calling to him like a siren’s song… “I want to ruin you. Because I think that's the only way you won't leave me."

The intensity of his words scares you, he realizes, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and your eyebrows twitch. But even in the dim lighting of the flames, he can see how the tops of your cheeks turn red, how your chest trembles with the breath that catches there...you want him.

It's a shame you're so willing to keep him away.

But he can't stop.

Aemond closes the distance in an instant, pushing you down until he traps your body beneath his, feeling the contours of your soft, supple curves against him; he shudders. He caresses your face one last time before moving down, ignoring your hesitation and your useless efforts to push him away. Quick as a viper, he grabs the hand that moves to push against his chest, wrapping it with the other still attached to his, holding your wrists tightly above your head.

You cry out at the pressure on his wrists, the long lashes over your eyes fluttering, pleading. "A-Aemond, what are you doing?" you stutter. "Please, please... I said I needed it - please give me some more-"

"Time? Oh yes, you said it." He hums thoughtfully, placing a thigh between your legs, dipping his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in the fresh fragrance of your shower, snoring contentedly with your naturally sweet scent. Intoxicated by your scent, he trails his lips along the slender column of your neck before stopping at the shell of your ear. “I’m so sorry, dear, I’ve waited too long. We’ve both waited too long.” He intones, intoxicated by your presence. You sob once but don't say anything else, choosing to turn your face away from him. Aemond snorts a laugh at that, but doesn't stop you, preferring to leave a tender, wet kiss on your cheek.

Squeezing your wrists with one hand, he allows the other to slide slowly down your body, almost reverentially. He paused at the delicate laces holding the front of your nightdress before untying them with deft fingers. The front opens, exposing your silky, flushed skin to his hungry gaze. He doesn't have the patience to remove the fabric completely from your body, so he just lowers it enough so that your breasts are exposed. He bites his lip, holding a curse between his clenched teeth. When he presses his bare palm to your perky breasts, he tastes your trembling innocence, your soft flesh.

So beautiful.

So pure.

From the beginning you were his opposite, your delicate hands, as irritatingly clean as his are stained with blood and ash.

As much as he truly suffers from the consequences of his actions, he never regrets them, because he knows they are right - necessary. There was only the future to shape, the past should stay where it belongs; behind him. Something he had learned through much pain, but unfortunately, his sweet wife had not yet. But as he runs his greedy fingers down your body, feeling the goosebumps on your soft skin with each touch, Aemond knows he scares you as much as he excites you. You can't hide it from him. Your obviously involuntary response to him only makes him fiercer, hungrier. He wants to ruin you from the inside, until you can't bear to live a single day without his touch.

He allows you to continue your theatrics, still stubbornly staring at the wall while pretending his actions don't affect you. There's something almost too tempting about it, in fact; It's a matter of honor for him. He will break your masks and he will take pleasure in doing so.

Letting his fingers slide down your sides, Aemond's lips wander. He kisses the hole in your throat, moving down with wet, licked breaths to your breasts, tasting you. You gasp softly and grip tight fists on the bed sheets when he captures a soft nipple with a slow suck of lips and a teasing scrape of teeth, your body curling beneath him tightly. He smiles with your nipple still between his lips, leaving wide, warm trails of his tongue on the little perky bud. His hips slide against the inside of your parted thighs, pushing the hardened bulge in his pants against your pussy once.

You bite your lip and close your eyes, but he doesn't stop. With another thrust he uses his strength to push you back onto the bed, the bed you shared many nights with him, to fuck you into the warm sheets. It's almost too much for him to finally feel your little pussy once again, even through the leather of his pants and your delicate nightwear. But he continues with slow, strong thrusts, rubbing his cock against you in a way that teases your clit, the smell and heat of his effort wafting throughout his body; sweat, dragon, fire, ash, blood, death - all mixed together, merging with your own sweet, intoxicating scent and, of course, the unmistakable scent of sex.

Before the chaos broke out, Aemond was quite skilled at this, at driving you crazy. A part of him is extraordinarily pleased to find that he still remembers correctly, especially when a press of his fingers and a twirl of his thumb on your slobbery nipple makes you gasp. He wants to see you, to see you blush and sweat, looking ruined for him. Gods, oh yes, Aemond wants this so much. He can't stop, he can never stop, especially with you singing so sweetly to him. When you arch into his touch and whisper his name softly, like a secret no one can discover, his breath hitching. Aemond can't stop.

A specific thrust makes you let out a high-pitched meow, your hands pulling at the linen on the sheets and he moans along, releasing your breast with a wet pop to look at your face. You have your lips parted, your long eyelashes touching the top of your cheeks, your eyebrows furrowed in sweet agony. He thrusts a little faster, rubbing your clit with more pressure, taking in your presence and the feeling of your tiny, supple body, preening at every sound that leaves your lips.

Sounds so sweet, so beautiful; he considers himself a sinner with the way something so innocent and angelic makes his blood boil and his cock throb with need inside his pants, surely soaking the fabric with the way he feels himself leaking.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, baby...”

And yet, he doesn't think he cares about dying by your hands when things turn out like this. He is admitting defeat without any embarrassment now; he can bear the dull weight of war, he can bear his own mind trying to destroy him at every turn, he can bear the betrayal of his own family and the demands of his duties. He can bear with anything.

Anything except being without you.

With an impatient grunt, his fingers tug at the soft skirt of your nightdress, bunching the thing at your waist as he rips your underwear down your legs. You don't try to stop him, but you don't try to help him either, remaining almost motionless against the bed, and he feels like he can growling at you like an animal for that - stubborn girl. He hates and loves this about you in equal intensity. He's almost rough and punishing as he hooks the back of your knee into the inside of his elbow, pushing your leg up to your breasts. And then you're giving up your fight, sighing - all anxious expression, furrowing your eyebrows and biting your lip as he hurriedly unzips his pants and pulls them down just enough to pull his cock out, slamming the wet, throbbing head over your clit before sliding his entire length along your folds.

You moan, he moans. The slide is wet and he can't tell if it's all you, if it's all him, if it's all both. He doesn't care, honestly. All that matters is how his cock is thrusting into your heat, hitting your clit with luscious pokes, coaxing more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips.

He hooks your other leg in the crook of his elbow and does exactly what he did with the other, trapping you between him and the bed in a position where your entire pussy is presented to him. With his hands flat beside your head, he brings his face closer to yours, the leather covering his chest pushing your knees further into your breasts. You moan through your teeth, unable to do anything but tighten your hands around his shoulders. He smiles slowly, drunk on the sensations, still gently sliding the length of his cock into your folds.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, enchanted by the way you dance between looking at the sapphire stone and the deep lilac of his functional eye. You've always done this, he thinks - saying one was as beautiful as the other, impossible to choose.

“I’m giving myself to you, love…I’m yours.” He whispers softly, husky, needy to you. "Will you do the same from now on?"

He’s so close he feel how your heart races violently at his words, slamming against your ribcage as you take a deep breath. Every expression on your flushed face makes him sure you're going to have an intense crying fit, but even when the liquid in your eyes pours down the side of your eyes, you keep yourself almost in one piece. You look deeply into his eye as your shoulders shake. "Y-yes." You exhale, fragile. “Yes, yes, yes,” your voice sings repeatedly, with quick, confused nods, tears streaming from your eyes.

He can't hold back the husky sound that leaves his lips, his cock pulsing in reaction to your obvious fragility exposed to him.

"Yeah?" He asks breathlessly and it's very slow - as he thrusts inside you, thrusting his hips back and forth once, twice, three times until your pussy swallows as much of his cock as it can, until the tip of his hip bones rub it against your thighs. And it's so intense, so obscene – the position he puts you in, the full weight of his body pinning you to the bed, broad shoulders hiding you from view, silver hair like a curtain around the two of you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream and his releasing small curses between clenched teeth... debauchery.

You give his shoulders a few desperate slaps as he fills you, your tight ring of muscle stretched to accommodate his girth, and no matter how long it takes him to prepare you, no matter how wet you are, he knows there's always that initial pain that rips through your groin as he pushes into you. It makes you sway beneath him, little tearful sobs that are like the sweetest song to him.

Another curse muttered in deep Valyrian was his only warning as his palms sink into the softness of the bed. Your own hands looking desperate too, one tangled in the silver base of his hair at the back of his neck and the other gripping the material of his leather shirt, a strangled moan catching in your throat as he begins to fuck you slowly. You can only hold on as he pulls and pushes his body above you with each deep thrust, his impatience shown only in the forceful and violent way in which his hands grip the bed sheets.

He leans into you a little more, moving his hips in different ways, testing the angles until he makes more of those tears well up in your eyes as your pleasure increases almost painfully. Your moans quickly turn into babbling when a particularly strong movement of his hips makes you shake all over. The way your tight pussy tries to contain him and suck him in at the same time drives him crazy, feral.

He won't last long. He already knew this before it even started, but now, feeling your walls squeezing the life out of him after so long deprived of it, with your cute little noises getting louder and louder, with your expression drunk with lust and sadness, the buzz of battle still vibrating through his veins... Aemond feels release approaching shamefully fast for him.

He'll make it up to you later, Aemond promises himself. When the hot need subsides at least a little in his system, he'll take off his dirty war clothes, maybe ask you to take a shower with him. He'll soap your body and tease you until you're riding his cock in the tub at your own pace, his fingers rolling your little clit with each bounce of your hips. He will lay you on the bed and love every inch of your soft body, worship your skin with kisses and hickeys. He will part your thighs and bury his fingers and tongue in your wet softness. He will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you until you are hoarse from screaming, until your body is physically unable to continue.

He will do it all.

He has done it in the past, many times.

Now, however, all he needs is to find his release, to unload those months of forced distance inside his trembling body. But Aemond will be damned if he doesn't bring you along with him.

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, pushing your legs against your body further, lips parting with hoarse, breathless moans that escaped him with each thrust and the sweet pleas you murmured incoherently. The movement of his hips quickens, one hand leaving its blunt grip on the sheets to squeeze between your thighs, poking your clit in tight circles, his cock hitting a spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and tremble in anticipation.

“Aemond…” you cry, digging your nails into the back of his neck, pulling his body towards yours, as if you weren’t already physically as close as possible.

He growls at your plea.

“My little, innocent wife,” Aemond giggles wildly as your pussy clamps down on his length again, your climax approaching, his thumb rotating a steady rhythm on your clit. If only your mind was clear enough to form a coherent thought, maybe you'd complain that the rhythm of his cock in your pussy would be painful, that the continuous and harsh scratching of his clothes hurts the soft and delicate flesh of your body, but you don't say anything, not now. You just accept what he gives you. And he knows you missed him as much as he missed you. “Always so good to me baby.”

Aemond watches you intently, unable to look away from the pleasure that shows on your face. You're shaking, lost in your wet breaths and high-pitched, broken cries, your legs trapped between his body, welcoming him. You're tight and small, his sweet wife, and Aemond can feel your cracks stretching, a spider's web of fractured thought and temptation too much for anyone to bear, and as much as he knows it's impossible, he wants this moment to last forever. Aemond is undone. A fool in love. And it's sad. And it's beautiful. It's being at home.

"Mine." His murmur echoes next to your lips, both of you breathing each other's breath, his rhythm starting to falter, the searing heat rushing through his body beneath those layers of heavy clothing makes him dizzy, but he doesn't stop, he doesn't stop. “So pure, so beautiful, so delicate…” he caresses your clit without faltering with a rumbling purr as his cock swells inside you. “Ngh...oh fuck, so tight. You're going to get everything, aren't you, darling? All of me.” His own teeth graze your neck as you arch and scream in pleasure. “Be a good girl and don't let anything leak, hmmm…”

He fucks you roughly, your name dancing on his lips like a prayer in the dark. Aemond savors this moment with the veneration it deserves, the final chase. The two of you so broken, so vulnerable, shaking with pleasure for each other. He rubs your pussy, hips slamming into you at lightning speed.

And finally, gods yes, it finally happens.

"Aemond! A-Aemond, please! Please-" You throw your head back, your lewd pleas turning into a broken scream as you explode around him. Your face is flushed and glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat, tears streaming down. It's all he can take. You convulse and break and the sensation of his cock swelling with the resulting explosions of hot cum filling you follows shortly after. As your body and pussy tremble and clench, he finally releases his own pleasure, biting down hard on your shoulder to muffle his husky moans, spilling himself deep inside you, the continuous spasms of your orgasm milking every drop from him. You and he cum together, and even in the hazy haze of climax, he thinks he's never experienced something so sublime, so perfect.

You're both shaking as you come down from the waves of mutual pleasure, and Aemond is especially careful now, gently unfolding your legs from that tight position to allow you to stretch them, which earns him a long, grateful, relieved moan. He slowly pulls away until he's kneeling between your thighs, watching raptly as you bite your lip as his cock leaves your heat. A tight grip circles around your parted thighs, lifting them up a little to expose your dripping pussy. He looks almost in awe as he watches his seed flow steadily from your abused pussy.

But Aemond is selfish and his cum doesn't belong on the crumpled, sweaty sheets. No, he told you to keep it safe inside you and that's what would happen. His fingers slip into the wet mess of cum in your folds, pushing as gently as he can all the thick liquid inside you again.

You're too tired to react, but you still sob softly at the sensation, subtly squirming on the bed, legs shaking from being held in the same position for so long. He looks at you, icy lilac gaze half-lidded with lust, blue stone glowing in the flames of the fire. He looks at the soft, creamy flesh of your sweaty body. He longs to see dark spots and bite marks, a way of proving that you belong to him. He lifts his head, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh, just above your left breast. His teeth leave crescent moons on your skin and you scream loudly at the stinging sensation, but you don't stop him. He walks away, admiring the constellations he had traced on your skin. Painting you for him, marking you as something unique to him.

You sniffle and blink wet eyelashes at him. He kisses his bite, murmuring gentle words to you, his lips trailing up with soft sucks and wet kisses in your throat until he brushes against your lips. And it's then, and only then, that he realizes he hasn't kissed you yet. He doesn't know why he didn't do it, given that it's probably the thing he misses most about you. Feeling the softness of your lips on his, the gradual way a small, innocent kiss quickly evolves into something more urgent, the way you immediately struggle to keep up with his pace, his hunger as he swallows your cute sighs and your ragged breaths as he suck your tongue.

Yes. This is what Aemond longs for. How easily he could make you fall apart in his hands.

Taking into account the way that you blush and look down at his lips, you're thinking the same thing. He smiles mischievously, slowly leaning in for a deep kiss, fingers damp with your juices and his cum resting on your jawline. Your little hands sink into his hair until you lightly scrapes your nails across his scalp, making Aemond shudder. The fingers of his other hand cup your hip, tracing the line of the bone in gentle patterns. His nose bumps yours as his tongue dances in your hot mouth, spreading in you the taste of smoke and revenge that seems to follow him at absolutely every moment now. And like his perfect antithesis, you gasp, let him savor your sweet, fruity flavor - so fuckin sweet.

Your legs circle his waist, making him press against your heat, quickly reigniting the flame of need within him. You lick it off his tongue, moan when he sucks your bottom lip and bites it, you beg between quick breaths and Aemond continues to rub himself against you, the kiss becoming sloppier, driving him crazy with how irresistible you are in this state. You give yourself completely to Aemond, without asking questions or making new complaints, and it drives him crazy.

"You are mine. Only mine. And you will never leave me again, do you understand?" He murmurs as he pulls away, both of you panting, looking seriously into your water-bright eyes, noting how they're a little wide and your mouth is swollen and wet from his kisses.

A few tears slide down your face, but you smile shakily at him, the hand in his hair stroking the silver strands lovingly.

"I am yours, Aem. Now and forever." Honesty bleeds into your shallow voice, your little fingers on your other hand tentatively tangling with the buckles of his shirt to open it.

Aemond rests his forehead against yours and truly smiles for the first time in a long, long time. Not a malicious, mocking or condescending smile... No, this time his lips are stretched into a small, but genuine, honest smile.

And it's because of you.

Because he knows he got what he wanted so much. He has you again. He was resilient, he was patient and he was fair. He fought and, with his efforts, created a space just for himself within your heart. He knows you're still unhappy with everything that's going on, and no matter how much he wants to, he can't change that. He can only strengthen you to bear it. It can only burrow deeper into your body and your heart until you are able to forget the atrocities that are happening around you - the horrible things that he is doing. It's a gaping hole in your chest that leaves you continually bleeding, he knows, but the exposed cut is so sweet, and here he is, licking the wound like an animal, with all the violent, relentless gentleness he has to offer as the vengeful prince that he is.

He wraps his arms around you, pushing his cock back into your abused pussy in a deep movement that draws a broken sound from both of you, pulling you against his chest. He rubs his sweaty face against your throat, your face, your hair. His voice syrupy and thick as he whispers, "I love you."

Fuck. Aemond would never let you go.

[honestcompassion]

may you do a shadow milk cookie version of the yandere headcanons?

𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒. having strong feelings of romantic love

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 yandere shadow milk cookie headcanons

warnings: obsessive and possessive behavior, physical abuse, psychological abuse, stalking, manipulation, brainwashing, implied forced relationship, potentially ooc

A/N: Of course I can! When Shadow Milk Cookie first debuted, I fell in love instantly. There’s just something about theatrical villains, especially the eccentric jester types, that captivates me. One order of yandere Shadow Milk Cookie headcanons, coming right up!

Shadow Milk Cookie as a yandere would be like a dark chocolate truffle—rich, alluring, and just a little bitter beneath the sweetness. His charm wraps around you like velvet, a perfect blend of theatrical flair and quiet intensity that feels as intoxicating as it is unsettling. His love is a shadowed waltz, beautiful and haunting, leaving you unsure whether to be captivated or cautious. It’s the kind of affection that feels like a dream you can’t wake up from—both a sweet escape and a lingering trap. You’ll find yourself drawn into his world of dramatic devotion, but beneath the warmth of his smiles lies a possessive hunger he can’t quite hide.

He thrives on grand, theatrical gestures to express his devotion, leaving you gifts with cryptic yet poetic notes signed with an elegant flourish. These gestures range from elaborate displays of affection—like lighting up a dark field with glowing lanterns in your honor—to eerily personal offerings, such as items he’s "acquired" from your daily life. Every act is calculated to make you feel like you’re at the center of his universe, even as it slowly closes in around you.

He views your relationship as a masterpiece, with himself as the playwright and you as the star. Shadow Milk Cookie meticulously plans each moment to keep you enchanted, ensuring you never have a reason to stray from him. If you ever seem distant, he’ll orchestrate events that pull you back into his embrace, from accidental encounters to dramatic rescues that only he could have staged.

Shadow Milk Cookie takes his role as the playwright of your love story to sinister extremes, orchestrating every detail of your life to align with his vision. His stalking is meticulous; he knows your schedule, preferences, and even your deepest fears. He uses this information not just to keep you under his watchful eye, but also to manipulate your circumstances, ensuring that you rely on him entirely. Whether it’s sabotaging relationships, creating accidents, or isolating you from friends and family, everything he does is designed to sever your ties to the outside world.

Anything proving to be a psychological feat are one of his most insidious tools. Shadow Milk Cookie weaves a narrative that convinces you the world outside is full of dangers and betrayals, leaving him as the only one you can trust. He’ll gaslight you into questioning your own memories and perceptions, using his silver tongue to twist reality into something that serves his control. "Surely, you don't actually believe their words? Ignorance is a sin only a fool can commit, dearest!"

His manipulation extends to planting seeds of doubt and fear in your mind. He’ll isolate you with subtle cruelty, belittling your connections to others or hinting that they harbor ill intentions toward you. At the same time, he showers you with affection, creating a jarring cycle of emotional highs and lows that leaves you dependent on his approval and affection.

Shadow Milk Cookie’s possessiveness becomes physical when his control is threatened. If you attempt to defy or leave him, his charm will shatter, replaced by a terrifying intensity. He won’t hesitate to use force to keep you by his side, gripping your wrist hard enough to leave bruises or blocking your path with an unsettling grin. "This was not part of the script, silly. You should know better than to anger me."

The brainwashing is relentless, as Shadow Milk Cookie works tirelessly to mold your thoughts and feelings to fit his narrative. He’ll whisper sweet lies in your ear, repeating them until they feel like truth. Over time, you’ll find yourself questioning your own desires and autonomy, your sense of self eroding under his constant pressure.

Any attempts to resist the relationship are met with overwhelming force, both emotional and physical. He’ll guilt you into compliance, framing your resistance as a betrayal of his devotion. "I've given you everything, and yet you still pull away. Why would you hurt me like this?" If guilt doesn’t work, his darker side emerges, and he’ll ensure you understand the consequences of disobedience.

Shadow Milk Cookie’s forced relationship is a gilded cage, beautiful on the surface but suffocating beneath. He’ll use every tool at his disposal to keep you trapped, from fabricated crises that require his intervention to veiled threats disguised as declarations of love.

Even as his behavior grows more extreme, Shadow Milk Cookie maintains the facade of a devoted lover, his gestures of affection as grand and theatrical as ever. He genuinely believes his actions are justified, that his obsessive, controlling love is the only way to keep you safe and happy. To him, your relationship is a story of fate and devotion, and he won’t let you rewrite the ending.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a sickly pale light across the room as Shadow Milk Cookie paced back and forth, his hands tightly gripping the edge of his staff. His usually 'composed' demeanor was shattered, his face twisted with a mixture of rage and disbelief. His eyes, once full of affection, now burned with something darker—a madness that had been building for far too long.

"You insolent fool," he muttered to himself, his voice a low growl. "How dare you? How could you…"

His steps quickened, his once graceful movements that he kept up in front of you for so long becoming erratic as the fury inside him bubbled to the surface. His calloused fingers twitched as he thought about the escape. Your escape. The idea that you, his beloved, could leave him—leave him—was something he couldn’t fathom.

The room around him seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as his mind spiraled. Every crack in the floorboards, every rustle of the curtains, every shift in the shadows—it all felt like a reminder of your betrayal.

"You think you can escape, silly?" he snarled, his voice rising with each word. His normally playful tone had vanished, replaced by a harshness that echoed through the empty room. "You think you can get away from me? From me?"

His hands shook as he slammed his staff against the ground, the sharp crack splitting the silence like thunder. The smile that usually lingered on his lips was gone, replaced by a grimace of pure, unfiltered anger. His heart raced as the image of you slipping away haunted his every thought.

"You silly little pest," he hissed, his words a venomous whisper. "Running from me? After all I’ve done? I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me? You think anyone else could ever love you the way I do?"

He turned toward the window, the glass reflecting his distorted expression—twisted, obsessed, consumed. His breath came in ragged gasps as he gripped the edge of the windowsill, staring out into the night as if willing you to appear in front of him. The world beyond the walls was a blur, a fading memory he couldn’t bear to face.

"You can’t run from me. I won’t let you," he whispered, his voice soft but laced with a chilling promise. He slowly turned back toward the center of the room, the room where he had kept you, the room where you belonged. "You’re mine, and you will stay mine, no matter how many foolish attempts you make."

A low, manic laugh bubbled from his throat, sharp and cold. "Stupid puppet, always trying to run away," he muttered. "I'll break you down if I have to. I’ll remake you. You’ll beg me to stop." He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild, pupils dilated. His breathing became erratic as he stood, still trembling, his body humming with an anxious energy.

The thought of you—of you being free—drove him to the edge. Every second that passed without you in his arms felt like a lifetime. He couldn't fathom it. You, slipping away, making your own choices. You, defying him. His chest tightened with panic and rage.

"You’ll never escape me. Never," he snarled. "And when I find you, when I pull you back into my arms, you’ll understand. You’ll thank me for making you stay."

His eyes glazed over as he imagined it—the moment when you finally realized that the only way to feel safe, to feel loved, was in his arms. His arms, where you belonged. He could already feel the rush of relief coursing through him, the sweet, intoxicating satisfaction of having you back under his control.

He turned away, his fingers twitching, a smile finally creeping back onto his lips. It was small, but it was there—twisted, deluded, and soaked in madness.

"I'll have you back. You’ll come to me, silly little thing," he whispered, his voice slipping into a dangerous calm. "And I will make sure you never forget how much I love you."

You're going to wish you never met him after he's done with you.

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hii id like to request a how l&d boys act when they're jealous :3 feel free to ignore if u don't feel like it or thanks in advance if u do!! love your works sm xx

How the Boys Act When They’re Jealous

Pairing: xavier x gn!reader, rafayel x gn!reader, zayne x gn!reader

A/N: The game needs more jealous Zayne, and Lost in your eyes moments with Raf. Thanks for waiting! <3

Xavier is an absolute menace.

He’s extremely possessive over you, and he’s well aware of it.

You care a lot about him, but good luck stopping him from being a jealous dummy any time soon. He already knows Jeremiah doesn’t have feelings for you, but is that going to stop him from spraying the other man with a plant mister when he gets to close? Nope.

Luckily for Jeremiah, Xavier likes him. They’re friends. The other man finds it funny to even tease him a little by poking at that jealous side. Everyone else doesn’t have the same privilege.

When he's not glaring, Xavier tries to be subtle about, dropping hints here and there about how you’re his lover. He’ll interrupt your conversations with other men when they drag on too long, so he can talk with his partner, his neighbor, his napping buddy.

Suddenly, everything he says can be taken the wrong way. He mentions how he had a good time sleeping together (when it was literal sleeping). He says the two of you should got out to dinner again or that the lunch you made him for work was very tasty (really you wanted to avoid the apartment complex catching on fire). He might also “jokingly” state within hearing distance of your new friend that the two of you act like a married couple. It’s not his fault if someone takes it the wrong way; you don’t have to look so embarrassed about it.

Xavier likes to flaunt his status a little; he fixes your hair and dusts off your clothes. He would do this for you even if he wasn’t jealous, but it’s a bonus that it gets others to back off and gets your attention on him with your cute little pout.

Worse comes to worst, he isn’t afraid of using underhanded methods to fail any attempt at someone else trying to steal you away from him; even if that means knocking out the streetlights with his Evol to get your coworker to go home early (who even takes 20 minutes to say goodbye anyway? Someone with ill intentions, that’s who.).

He’ll deny it. Deny. Deny. Deny. He’s not jealous. He just wants to know more about your friend. How long have you known each other? Do you go out at night together? Why not invite him sometimes? It takes a few pokes to get him to admit it.

Jealous Xavier can be a moody Xavier; he’s usually calm and easygoing, patient with most of the world except with those who try to flirt with you, and you, if you should flirt back. Though, he has no problem reminding you why he is the only one you should have eyes for whether it be through words, action, or…other methods best left after dark.

It’s obvious when Rafayel is jealous.

It starts as jokes, usually, with a light dust of jealousy like sprinkles on a donut.

“What’s your new friend like? Are they more fun than me,” he asks, trying to coax you into admitting how much more you like him, a little to assuage his jealousy and a little to stroke his own ego.

He’s confident in being your partner and having a bond that has lasted millenniums. So, when a random likes you, it’s usually not a huge deal. He can confidently deal with it, wrapping an arm around your waist or shoulder and putting on his charm as he calls you honey with a lift to his voice, as if he didn’t notice the person who was trying to flirt with you.

His jealousy can even be funny sometimes even cute. He’ll get this pouty look on his face whenever you place your attention on animals, cooing and petting them. He even gets jealous of your dear child, Reddie, from time to time. You love that clumsy fish so much. It couldn’t even stop itself from being caught by humans. Why would you want to play with Reddie so much when you already got a fish you can pet. Please pet him.

 When his jealousy gets really bad though, he can be snippy. He’s vindictive, asking if you forgot about him and if you wouldn’t rather hang out with your other boyfriend. His jokes become a little less funny and a little meaner, and he’ll be quick to demand an explanation in a voice a little tighter and bitter than you’re used to from him.

If you get mad and try to leave, he’s pulling you back. He doesn’t actually want you to go but he’s too stubborn to admit that maybe he’s being jealous over nothing.

He just doesn’t want you to forget him again.

On the other hand, seeing you jealous? He eats it up. 

Zayne doesn’t like his jealousy.

He tries to play it cool and be mature about these things. He’d never interrupt you talking to another person, but he most definitely watches the situation out the corner of his eye. He wants to digest every word and every bit of body language he can about the situation, going as far as pretending to work to have an excuse to stay and listen in.

Zayne wants to be rational about things, but he’s never been completely rational when it comes to you. You have a bad way of making him act out of character (or passionately as you call it).

This emotion always sneaks up on him unexpectedly and makes him clumsier than normal. He’ll give himself away easily, asking about your plans with the other person or if you noticed the lovesick puppy look they gave you when you looked their way. It makes him blush when you mention that you adore his puppy eyes more. If he says he doesn’t do that, well, you’ll simply have to call Dr. Greyson and Yvonne to back you up.

Zayne can be very picky about other people trying to take your time, like not wanting someone else to dance with you or take you out to a new tourist location; he always promises his free time to you, the little he has of it, so he requests that you wait for him. He’ll accompany you wherever you want to go.

Zayne is very jealous of others who can make you laugh. He really likes how easygoing, talkative, and animated you are so he gets insecure when someone else can make you act that way better than he can; however, he feels selfish because you’re happy and that should be enough.

In the end, he blames himself for his own jealousy, questioning if he read too much into the situation or in your relationship. He’s the quickest to apologize for his jealousy if you pick up on it.

When Zayne thinks you are pursuing someone else, he becomes blunter. He suddenly has a lot more relationship advice about being careful who you keep in your company and warning you to make sure there’s no doubt when deciding on something important like your partner. He also tends to cut conversations about any other potential partner you might like short and unintentionally be rude to your love interest.

That’s not to say he won’t try to win you over; when push comes to shove and the risk of losing you becomes too great, he isn’t afraid to finally tell you how he feels in the best way he can. All he can do is try. 

If you don’t like him back, he will allow jealousy to silently have him, choosing to suffer in it, as long as you’re happy with whoever you choose.

However, that does not mean he has to like your partner as well. And if they ever hurt you, he rather not think of what he’d do if that should happen.

[delirious-donna]

Praise [Nanami Kento]

an: this is an old fic of mine which got slapped with a flag the first time around. I’ve reworked it and I like it far better now and I hope you will too.

premise: Kento finds it so adorable when you look at him with those big, shiny doe eyes. Has he noticed that you do it more when he sings your praises? Oh yes, and he plans to make you purr for him.

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: praise kink, office sex, possibility of being caught, boss/subordinate dynamic, sloppy blowjob, cum swallowing, Kento being a bit of a tease but with good intentions

Masterlist

It was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore the way you squeezed past him in the break room. The lilt of faintly murmured apologies and downcast eyes that refused to meet his own.

Nanami watched you keenly whilst you poured your coffee and sprinkled in packet after packet of sweetener. Leaning against the far wall with his coffee mug dutifully hiding the smile that rose to his lips. Ever the sweet tooth.

His board of directors would shudder in their golf carts if they knew he mingled with his subordinates on a daily basis rather than locking himself within an ivory tower. It was an argument he was accustomed to, and one that he assured anyone that asked was worth the risk. Workers who knew the big boss outside of his office were more likely to be productive. He had reams of research tucked away, statistics on the positive impact on retention rates and the upward trends on quality assurance.

It was all a ruse, and a convincing one at that. Kento could recite KPIs at the drop of a hat until those scrutinising eyes turned vacant and disengaged. All for you. His every effort to satisfy the worry that stalked your every breath it seemed at times. For you see, you meant the world to Nanami Kento and he to you, but he was also your boss and that caused problems.

A secret relationship, one that might be frowned upon if he weren’t the CEO of the company, but it was at your continued insistence. You wanted to be taken seriously for your contribution to the company and he respected that decision. The board answered to him at the end of the day, he held a majority share in the organisation he had built from the ground up, but he understood your desire to find your own worth rather than be tied to his side.

You were a dedicated worker, a real asset to the executive team he managed personally and from the moment he met you, he knew he had to have you. Never before had he felt compelled to pursue something so risqué. Most would call him risk averse, what they didn’t know would likely make their jaws drop.

Whilst his gut instinct was immediate, the road to where you were now was not so quick. It had taken time and a boatload of patience. A sensual dance of flirtation and seduction which had severely tested his restraint, but after months of witty remarks and sexual tension thick enough to choke a horse, you were finally his.

Quite frankly he hadn’t known he had it in him. It was the first time he had spent as much time and energy on pursuing anyone, but the reward had been more than worth it. Only recently, he asked you to move in with him and the spacious penthouse no longer felt too large and lonesome. The bachelor life was not meant for him. It was an ill-fitting suit and he gladly welcomed the tailored fit of being your adoring partner and lover.

It was tainted by the fact that you shared the same bed, woke tangled in each other’s arms each morning but never arrived to work together. The same was true at the end of the day, though Kento tended to spend more hours in the office for obvious reasons. He understood your reservations, it was hard for a woman to be taken seriously at this level and although he operated with a policy of complete gender equality, there were still those old-school fuckers that looked down on women.

He’d assured you he wouldn’t hesitate to fire anyone who even uttered a derogatory word regarding your relationship but you begged him to keep it quiet for now. Unfortunately for him, he was wrapped tightly around your finger and so, despite his desire to the contrary, he bowed to your wishes.

Only thought of the day where he could stand proudly by your side without fear of repercussion in your eyes kept him going. Wheedling out the bad seeds covertly in the background to lay the groundwork for the years to come and how prosperous and happy you both could be if given the chance to flourish freely.

Nanami was a good man, at least he hoped he was.

However, his gaze was anything but at this moment. He felt the surge of predatory intent wash through him as he took in your grey skirt and the matching jacket that pinched your waist in the way he liked most. The knowledge of those delectable thigh highs that concealed your bare legs ran rampant, and he idly cursed that he wasn’t pressing you up against the counter and fucking you like he wanted to do. To hell with coffee and boring Monday meetings.

No, he had control and an idea.

“See you in ten,” he said on his way out the door, flashing a quick wink in your direction and watching your jaw drop in response.

~

The boardroom was noisy as everyone took their seats. Conversation flowed but you couldn’t pay attention, not when you knew that Kento was up to something. That faint crocodile smile he had offered not long ago lingered in your memory and you straightened deliberately in your chair, uncomfortable for the first time in many months.

He sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled whilst he studied the open planner set before him. Strands of blonde hair fell into his face, and the annoying part of you that wanted to sweep it back reared its head. As if he could sense your thoughts, he parted his hands and fixed his hair without glancing at you.

The sooner this meeting was over, the better. You had a project in need of your attention, and literally any excuse not to be caught feeling frisky in the office. A prospect that was growing exceedingly harder given the unknown meaning behind that sly little wink in the break room.

The proceedings started as normal, the boring bullshit of every corporate meeting and then it happened.

“Excellent work on the Fushiguro account. You exceeded expectations, well done.” Nanami announced out of the blue. His warm hazel eyes fixed you in place whilst your colleagues eagerly added to the sentiment, some genuine and some because they were simpering fools.

You found yourself staring at him—at your boss—with cheeks that felt hot enough to fry eggs and wide eyes blinking much too rapidly. Raw pride swelled in your chest along with a squirm in your lower half and a pleasant sensation twisting in your gut.

“Thank you, sir.”

Perhaps it could be put down to a one-off but not when the offers of praise started to come thick and fast. He made it seem so natural as if he were paying it no more attention than a good boss should do and he certainly shared the successes out amongst your colleagues, but this was something else—you knew it.

Could he sense that your thighs were pressed tightly together beneath the opulent table? Did he hear the hitch of your breath every time he mentioned your name? How about the heat spreading across the back of your neck or the bead of sweat that trickled down your spine? Could he smell your arousal?

Goddamn his fiendish ways. Kento always could read you like a book, and not just any book plucked from the shelf. You were a well-thumbed and beloved story that he would read fondly over and over, each time finding new things to add to the piles of reasons for loving you.

You were losing your mind. Furiously beating your pen against the still empty pad you’d brought with you for note taking. You crossed and uncrossed your legs for the hundredth time, desperately wanting to excuse yourself for the solitude of the bathroom. A splash of water to your face was long overdue.

So lost in the abundance of praise being heaped on you, you didn’t hear the call of dismissal. It wasn’t until the scrapping of chairs met your ears did you realise it was time to leave and you were ready to rocket your right out of the room as soon as the door opened.

“May I have a moment of your time?” Nanami asked you nonchalantly. Your knees almost buckled at the idea of being alone here with him.

Only once the last person left and the door thudded shut did you dare to look at him. Dared to bear witness to the blonde God that was leaning back in his chair—observing you.

“Is everything alright? You look… flushed.”

Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth as you chewed over your words. “I’m perfectly fine. I appreciate the concern.”

“Hm. That you are, sweetheart. So very fine…” he enthused, reclining back in his executive chair to rake your standing figure with a lustful eye. Oh, he wasn’t playing fair in the slightest and somehow that made everything far worse.

Kento admired you from the top of your head right down to your shuffling toes and back again. The flash of his pink tongue wetting his lips did nothing but force a fierce shudder down the length of your spine. You knew where this was going, part terrified and part excited beyond belief. In the sanctity of your home, you would have already pounced.

“Ken—”

“I can smell your arousal, darling.”

Quick as a flash, he was leaning forward in his seat and wrapping both hands around your wrists to tug you towards him. You gasped aloud at his downright filthy accusation and the way he was manhandling you to stand in front of him. The edge of the desk hit against the backs of your thighs and Kento used your moment of imbalance to seat your butt against the edge of the glass top.

He rolled his chair closer, a thick muscled thigh pressed between your legs and forced the tight hold of your skirt to ride up to accommodate his presence there. Nanami groaned at the sight of your lace-detailed stocking tops, a calloused finger swiped across his mouth as if deciding what to do next.

“Have you noticed how… receptive you become when I praise you? Or how your beautiful skin blooms when I tell you how clever you are?”

Kento brushed his thumb across your cheek, stroking your jaw and tilting your chin. His free hand fingered the lacy tops of your thigh highs, straddling the line where the garment met your bare skin and you fought down the moan in your throat. You were melting into a puddle, no more than an ice cream cone on a blazing summer day and longing to be licked up by the man before you.

“Such a brilliant mind inside that pretty head, I’m truly a lucky man,” he rasped, and you snapped.

Grabbing him by the knot of the tie at his throat, you pulled him to meet you halfway in a searing kiss. Damn it all to hell, you no longer cared that you were in the workplace or that the door wasn’t even locked, you needed him with a dizzying urgency that refused to be denied a moment longer.

The aroma of rich, bitter coffee and musky cologne filled your nose, it birthed a breathy sigh of equal parts comfort and desire. You tried to slide onto his lap, to anchor your knees on either side of his hips but he held you fixed on the table with two strong palms.

“My precious sweetheart needs to show me how good she can be. Think you can take care of a pressing matter of mine?” Kento’s gaze dropped to the obvious lift to his expensive dress slacks, and you caught his meaning immediately.

The idea of being praised more was all the encouragement you needed to bend at the waist and palm him through the heavy material. You could feel the outline of his straining cock, both your mouth and pussy drooled in anticipation of revealing the beast hiding beneath those layers.

You made quick work of his belt, unfastening the buckle deftly before freeing his button and dragging the zipper down. Nanami assisted in lifting his hips enough to shuffle his trousers down whilst your eager fingers hooked inside the waistband of his briefs and finally his leaking cock sprang out.

The velvet skin appeared agitated and angry, the tip flushed a deep pulsing purple and pearlescent precum oozed freely from his slit. You touched the silky liquid without grazing his skin yet he still twitched from watching you alone.

“Mm… gonna show me what you’ve got, sweetheart? Show me who the real boss is here?” He drawled almost lazily, and your breath hitched at the insinuation that you were the one in charge. That thought made your cunt clench and your stomach flutter.

You wrapped around his shaft, working the beads of moisture down his skin to make the pump of your fist more slick and comfortable. Kento watched you through hooded eyes, delving his hands through your lustrous hair and pulling it free from the clip holding it back. You were such a sinful sight; all flushed cheeks and heaving chest that strained the silky fabric of your blouse to the limit.

“Gods, you drive me crazy. Do you know how much I have to restrain myself when you’re around?”

Big, round doe eyes blinked up from where you knelt between his parted thighs. The surface of your irises were glossy like polished mirrors and saliva escaped your pouty lips before you’d even gotten close to taking him into your mouth.

He knew your tight little pussy would be throbbing in need, that lust covered your folds and tracked down your thighs, sticking to your skin and waiting to be licked clean by his tongue. He could smell it, practically taste it and he would, once you were finished.

“Kento…”

He nodded his head, giving you the permission he knew you were seeking to do what you both wanted. That first sensation from the heat of your mouth sent him crashing, head tilted to stare at the ceiling and strained the thick tendons in his neck.

You moaned around his girth, slobbering already as your overexcitement spurred you on. The ache in your pert clit was maddening, the clench of your thighs not enough to relieve the ache in the pit of your abdomen. The friction wasn’t nearly enough, you were desperate for more. What made it worse was the heavy, bitter taste of Kento’s cock. It made you salivate, but not only in your mouth. The underwear beneath your skirt would have to be trashed as completely ruined at this point.

“Fuck, that’s it. Taking me down your throat so well, so proud of you sweetheart,” he groaned whilst noticing your restless wriggling and knowing exactly what you wanted—what you needed. “Play with yourself, my love.”

You jumped at the instruction, eager not to waste a moment of time in complying with the request and grateful that your man was so in tune with your needs and not just his own. A hand slid beneath your skirt and rubbed erratically through the sodden cotton of your ruined underwear. Never had you fallen apart so quickly, never had your heart thundered so much that it might explode.

“I love seeing you like this. Let me hear you purr for me, kitten.”

Swallowing around his thick girth, your cheeks hollowed to increase the suction of your mouth and Kento’s head snapped down to your face with parted lips. The tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat but you didn’t stop, barely hesitated as he slid further down until you gagged and spluttered when you pulled off for air. It was only for a moment. You were too resolute in bringing this powerful man to his knees.

With a flickering tongue that pressed thickly against his heavy shaft, you tasted him thoroughly and let spit bubble at the sides of your mouth to coat your chin. Kento was fighting against the rise of his hips as he twisted a hand into your hair and gently guided your head up and down in the perfect bobbing motion.

He was close. Hell, you were closer.

Your forearm rested on his strong thigh, hand wrapped around the remaining inches of his shaft that refused to fit into your mouth and throat whilst the other hand dipped into your sopping hole.

Your cunt clenched around your slim fingers, and you could sob. You longed for something else, something more and you knew just what you wanted, but perhaps you weren’t going to get it.

“Sw—sweetheart… i’m gonna - oh fuck - swallow it like a good girl, please?” His plea was breathless and the nearest you had ever heard to a whimper. It was beautiful and empowering to know that he could be brought to heel by you.

The low flutter of your lashes along with a subtle nod and watery eyes were his sign of your acceptance. Kento allowed the pressure that was building to a crescendo to release like a riptide. He spilled his seed down your throat and filled your mouth as he pulled his hips back.

He was in awe at the sight of you licking your lips like the cat who got the cream. His chest heaved with every twitch of his dick, emptying himself against your pursed lips and smearing the remnants for you to lap up greedily. Kento smiled, lazy and content now that the ache of his balls had drained away. He was quick to haul you up and onto his lap with your surprised squeal causing him to chuckle.

“I love you, my beautiful, smart and funny girl,” he cooed into your ear, his large palms coasted over your jittery thighs and hooked between your legs just where you needed him the most.

“Now then, time for your reward…”

[samkerrworshipper]

movin’ out

keira walsh x reader

i wrote a fic that isn’t super depressing or smut? sorry? it’s short, it’s a little bit funky and definitely not my normal style but it’s all i could piece together atm! i don’t think it’s technically a blurb but close enough! enjoy xo

warnings: none?

It’s been too long.

It’s all you can say or think the moment you see Keira.

Between you playing in England, her in Barcelona and then you playing for Australia and her playing for England the time you two can find together is so limited. Face times, constant texts and midnight calls are good for a couple of days, sometimes weeks but after months it becomes nowhere near enough to sustain a relationship. It’s the pains and trials associated with two professional athletes being in a relationship with each other, the disconnection was hard and the added hundreds of miles between you only made it harder.

You hadn’t realised how long it had been though, and just how much of a toll that might have started to take on your partner. Between the both of you playing a mid week game and then training every day in the lead up to weekend games you both hardly had enough time to make dinner and make room for your basic needs, let alone care from each other afar.

As you look at Keira now though, you’re really having second thoughts about the lack of check ins that you’ve been having with her and the amount of interactions you’ve been having that haven’t solely revolved around football.

“Hey baby.”

Keira looks ill, and not in the sick way, just her general features. She just looks unwell, like she hasn’t been sleeping at all, like she’s on the brink of a emotional breakdown and just generally miserable. You’d offered to pick her up from the airport but she’d denied your offer and you can see why now, she looks like she’s in tatters and is about to collapse in front of you.

“Hey.”

Every syllable is deflated, like she’s struggling to piece together the energy to move her lips.

You’ve known for a while now that Keira hasn’t been happy in Barcelona. Lucy leaving had been.. it had been tough. On top of the rest of the midfield finally being in good fitness and there being a lot less familiarity for Kei it was understandable that your girlfriend would be struggling, you just hadn’t understood how much.

You push her suitcase to the side in favour of bringing her straight into your arms. The way her hands cling to your jumper makes your heart thump.

“Hey baby, I’ve got you.”

You immediately feel sick with the guilt over the fact that tomorrow you have to leave, that you have a sweet twenty four hours to try and fix whatever this problem is before you are obligated to get on a flight and fly 20 hours further away. Your stomach actually hurts at the thought, here you are with your long distance girlfriend holding onto you like you’re her lifeline and your going to be dragged away in less than 24 hours.

“Let’s go to the couch huh? Get you off your feet.”

It’s phrased as a question but really you have no intention of standing in the entryway of your house for a minute longer. You lead Keira into your living room slowly, pulling her onto your couch with you and letting the slightly shorter woman to ragdoll on top of you. You don’t mind the cllinginess, it’s a far cry from how she is with almost every other human and to know that for the most part you are the only person who gets to see this side of Keira is special.

“Arsenal put in an offer.”

It wasn’t exactly public knowledge, Leah had told you though a couple of weeks ago when it had happened, you’d been a little bit dissapointed that Keira hadn’t told you when it was happening.

“I know.”

A part of you didn’t want to hear that Keira didn’t want to come, that she’d denied the offer. It was the part of you that still felt insecure about your relationship slightly.

“They told me, management. They didn’t even think about it. Even after i’d told them I was interested in coming back, that I wanted to come back to England. A million dollars and they turned it down.”

You take a deep breath, whilst Keira had made it clear to you that she wasn’t happy in Barcelona that hadn’t directly translated in your mind to her wanting to come to England or Arsenal.

“You wnat to come, to arsenal?”

Keira looks up at you and you get a good look in her eyes for the first time since she walked through the door fifteen minutes ago.

“England first and foremost, but Arsenal with you and Leah would be ideal. Not that it seems like it’s going to happen until my contract is up.”

You smile at Keira big and wide, there hasn’t been a point in your career yet where you’ve been in the same city, she was at Manchester and you were in America, then you moved to Arsenal and there was a period of 3 months where you were finally in the same country. Then it was Barcelona and the drift had started again. The idea of having Keira in the same city as you, potentially in the same house makes you giddy. But that’s all it it, a thought, because it’s not real and you’re in the same predicament of her being in camp for the next two weeks and then flying back to Barcelona before you’re back in the country.

“That would be nice.”

You purposely murmur it as quietly as possible.

“Yeah, would be nice.”

The reality is that for both of you there is no point in dreaming about more, dreaming only leads to let downs, big soul crushing let downs.

“You’ve just gotta gold on, you’ve got Kika and Ellie and Aitana, you just need to hold onto the people you have and make the most of it. You’re winning silverware at least?”

When the sound of a sniffle falls against you, your heart only clenches more.

“I want to be here, I want to be with you, not trying to find any spare minute in my schedule so that we can see each other for a second. I’m sick of always feeling like we have to make up for lost time, I want to live with you. Get our own dog, our own home, have our things, our own lives together instead of living separately.”

You nod against your girlfriends fluff of curly orange hair, it’s not often that it’s as puffy as it is, it’s only another sign to add to the list of how Keira must be feeling.

“You know, I really like that idea.”

You focus on Kei’s hair, undoing it from the makeshift bun it’s in and tangling your hair in the roots, carding your fingers through the ends and working up to her scalp.

“Just you and me, all the time, no more constant face time, surprise visits, rewatching games, coordinating schedules. Just you and me. It’s a good dream.”

That’s the thing, it can’t be anything more than a dream for either of you, in theory it would be lovely, amazing even. But dreaming is what gives the biggest disappointments.

“Maybe more than a dream.”

You ndo to satisfy Kei, because the last thing she needs on top of her own struggles and doubt right now is yours on top of it. But in your mind it just doesn’t work out, how can you expect it to work out when realistically the both of you are always going to prioritise your careers. It’s why you’ve both worked together so well, because there hasn’t been any mistranslations about the fact that you both are always going to prioritise your careers. It’s why in your head it doesn’t make sense that Keira would leave, she’s playing at the best club in the world, she’s at the highest level she could possibly be. A part of you is slightly insecure that her priorities are shifting, and it feels good but it’s also scary. You aren’t anywhere near to shifting away from your priorities, it’s been decided since you’ve been 12 that football was going to be the one love of your life. There were never boyfriends or girlfriends or plans to have kids or go to university, it was always just football. Keira had been the one flaw in the plan, but it wasn’t a true flaw. Keira made things easier, or as easy as they could be. It was just so natural that it was just all cohesive. The distance was hard but it was what made it easier to focus on your career, there wasn’t any direct distractions in your life.

“Maybe.”

There’s a big part of you that worries that you might not be able to sustain a relationship that’s not long distance because you’ve never had to. You don’t know what it’s like to wake up next to a person and then get ready for football and prepare for a fame. Sure, over the summer you spend every waking moment with Keira, but normally there is a tournament or you’re so focused on relaxing in the little down time you have that having Keira around is just an afterthought. What you have, the love and affection from a far and occasionally for a couple of days is what’s been perfect for you, the thought of having it as a constant is terrifying.

“I invited Leah over later, I assumed you’d want to see her before camp and you’re surrounded by everyone else.”

Keira peeks up at you, her eyes wide and suddenly brimming with tears. The blue in her eyes is so much clearer when their wet, it’s like it reflects directly off of the features of her face.

“I’ll be with Leah for the next two weeks.”

The underlying tone is very clear.

“Well, I’ll never say no to a night with my favourite girl. How about thai and the love island episodes we haven’t watched on facetime together?”

You know you’ve said the right thing when Keira’s face immediately lights up, but after a few seconds it dims and all of the energy that seemed restored fades.

“I don’t want to disappoint Leah. every time I’m here it’s to see you, which I love but when she comes to Barcelona she always spends it with me.”

You lean down and plant a kiss to her forehead.

“Leah is not going to be offended that you choose to spend the little time you have with me, like I said, you have two weeks together. She will be perfectly happy with that, I’m happy to tell her that you’re overtired from the travel and I want to keep you all to myself.”

When she lifts her head up,you don’t hesitate to press what you intended to be a peck to her lips, but before you even know what’s happening Keira’s hoodie covered hands are reaching up behind your head, pulling you in.

It’s a good feeling, you like your relationship for this exact reason. You don’t know how the sparks would work, if they’d even be there if you had this all the time.

It’s supposed to be a dream to have this all the time, and yet the more you think about it, and the more the idea becomes slightly tangible the more you find yourself skeptical of the whole dream. It just doesn’t seem like something you should have.

“C’mere.”

You don’t miss the way you immediately relax as Keira completely collapses on top of you, her bones practically melting into your own. It feels so good, your body feels so much better with her around it, your head goes quiet and everything just fits into place. It’s the part of you that worries that if you have this all the time then that part, the magical part will somehow drift away and all the moments that keep you coming back will stall.

“I’ll order the thai, and I’ll text Leah. Tomorrow morning you’re going to call your agent and tell him that you want it made clear to Barca that you want to come back to England and the next offer available they should take it. Then you’ll help me pack for camp and we’ll have some really great goodbye sex and you’ll drive me to the airport and we’ll be all soppy and kiss and hug and cry. Then you’ll go on camp and tell Barca that you want a couple of days off when camp ends, and I’ll fly home as soon as my last match is over and we’ll spend whatever time we can get together. We’re going to make this work, we’re going to make something normal happen, okay?”

Whether it feels right or not, it sounds right, and as much as you aren’t sure about the future you know that right now Keira needs support. She’s not getting it at Barcelona clearly and you need to give it to her or as much as you can piece together. You need to problem solve this, you need to prove that even with all of your internal doubts that you can make whatever she needs or wnats work. She might not be your priority over football, or at least that’s what you think, but she’s pretty damn close and she’s the most stable thing you’ve had in your life for the past couple of years. You’ve put her through hell, and you need to fix the hell she’s currently living in like she would do for you.

“We’ll make it work?”

You look down at your perfect fucking girlfriend, on top of you, relaxed and smiling and it clicks, it all just clicks into place.

“Yeah baby, we’re gonna make it work.”

——————

anyways have a great day or night! love you all! maybe next time i post it’ll be a orgy 🤭

[thatgordongirl]

I find it really interesting at the start of Megamind, during his monologue about his childhood, he refers to his actions as evil. But they’re like, very not? 

He’s treated like a criminal for simply ‘growing up’ in the prison. They never try to take him out or put him with another family. Because he’s associated with the criminals, even as a hyper intelligent baby, he’s put into their category. They don’t even give him different clothes to go to school, they let him sit there in prison orange. That would be socially isolating, especially when he hasn’t even committed a crime. It really demonstrates the nature vs nurture aspect of the movie, because even though he hasn’t committed a crime yet, people assume the worst of him just because of where he came from.

When he first goes to school, he uses the only skill that makes sense to him. He tries to connect with his class mates through technology, something he’s confident in. He accidentally causes a fire trying to recreate something Metro man did effortlessly. Megamind in the future views this attempt as evil and he’s punished as a child for it, when the fire wasn’t deliberate or done with ill intent. 

The same thing happens when he tries to protect himself from being bullied. He’s put on his own dodgeball team and isolated further from his class mates. He again tries to use his skills but create a helmet to deflect the balls, which doesn’t go the best way as he breaks a window and nearly hits the teacher. We can assume these kinds of things happened many times before he actively tried to do something ‘evil.’ 

Even his first act of evil is just a blue smoke bomb. You see loads of bad boy stereotypes do pranks like this, think Bart Simpson. At best, he’s doing an overblown childhood rebellion. He’s by no means a malicious person, he just wants acceptance. And when it becomes clear that people are not willing to accept him, but criminals are, he embraces that side and internalises their behaviours and beliefs throughout his life.

Even when he is ‘evil,’ it seems more like a game. A way to prove himself to others. He thinks that’s what’s going to complete this empty feeling in him he’s had ever since being socially rejected. Minion says that Megamind is happy when they kidnap Roxanne, I think it’s only because he enjoys having social connection, even if it’s through being evil or pretending to be somebody else. 

[avionvadion]

Saw that one post about Malleus being punished last night. I'm somewhere in the middle.

On one hand, the game never dished out harsh punishments to the other characters. That includes a literal human child trafficker. Yes, I wish the game was more realistic and held the characters more accountable for their actions in the same fashion as what happened in Six of Crows. Hell, that's one of the goals of my own fic rewrite. But since the game never did that before, suddenly severely punishing Malleus would be ill fitting and cruel, especially since he had good intentions unlike the others.

Having said that, I wish that he took more steps to amends for the people he affected besides the NRC boys. The people of Sage's Island seemed too unrealistically forgiving over what Malleus did. He imposed his will and magic on people who did not ask for it because his emotions got out of control. If I were one of them, I would be very pissed off at him, because his magic being tied to his emotions doesn't excuse that. Same goes for all the trouble he caused for STYKS and RSA. I don't think that Malleus should be sent to the Shadow Realm or something, especially since no one else received a harsh punishment like that, but him issuing an apology to those people and inviting them all to the party at the end would've been nice.

As a side unrelated side note, from what I heard I like how you are handling the Fellow Honest shit better than the game. I always found it stupid and even OOC that the characters are completely cool with him at the end. Kalim I understand. But the others? Really!? They are based on villains, shouldn't they be trying to beat his ass for trying to subject them to a fate worse than death? Whereas in yours, he is the lacky of someone who is the head of the operation (yes, that's true in the canon as well, but that never popped up until the end, so it doesn't count) and does try to set things right after Gidel is affected. Kalim gets him out of serving a huge sentence by making him do community service instead. That is a lot more realistic.

Malleus DID apologize. That’s the big thing. He’s one of the only THREE PEOPLE who apologized for the trouble that’s been caused. Him, Riddle, and Vil. Malleus publicly apologized. Plus I wouldn’t say they were unrealistically forgiving. A lot of them were hypocrites and were against Malleus returning to NRC, and Crowley was like, “Oh? Need I remind you of the trouble YOU ALL caused?” In order to get them to shut up.

As for the rest of the island- they explains it as Malleus being a natural disaster. You can’t stop it. You can only take preventative measures. Like getting rid of the Senate. The reason other students aren’t mad? They weren’t involved in the fighting, so they were still dreaming blissful dreams. They found it fun. Were they shocked when they woke up and had to evacuate? Yeah but again- they weren’t involved in the fighting. It’s hardly the first time shit’s gone down at the school either. They’re essentially used to chaos at this point. As long as they aren’t involved in the chaos they don’t really care.

And the fault of Malleus Overblotting is not his own.

It is never that person’s fault for Overblotting. Overblotting is the result of extreme negative emotions/trauma over maaaaaany years. For one to reach such a state, it is because of the failings of those around them. (In this case, the Senate and Maleficia.) When a child is hurt, they should be allowed to cry and wail until they feel better. Most of the Overblotted weren’t able. Malleus literally couldn’t. His magic being tied to his emotions (after the Senate cursed him) means he would have likely KILLED anyone who heard him wailing as a child- so he shut it all down instead, so as to AVOID hurting anyone.

(Added note: I am saying the Overblotting is not their fault. Any cruel actions leading UP to said moment that causes them to finally Overblot, however, is entirely on them, as they are still of sound mind until they hit that breaking point.)

This man was 178 years into a panic attack he never realized he was having because he was never allowed to express and regulate his emotions in fear of hurting and potentially killing those around him, and in that fear of hurting others, in repressing himself and his emotions to the point he no longer knew how to properly express himself, because he is inherently kind and so very gentle- something that only makes his curse all that much more worse, that when he finally gained his unique magic- it was extremely powerful, but very explicitly non-lethal, made with the intent of giving happy dreams, superficial though those dreams may be. Even when transformed as a massive dragon in his Berserker Overblot state, there were so few injuries because Malleus never wished to hurt anyone.

Malleus has faced more consequences than any other Overblotter, but also holds no grudges over it. And, considering everyone watched Lilia DIE- and Malleus having an absolute breakdown over it- would kill most of one’s initial anger, me thinks, unless one lacks a heart.

The staff and workers and all the other adults took the professional route of handling Malleus, discussing things through and coming to a group conclusion.

Malleus has already done more in lieu of apologizing than any others. Why, I don’t recall Leona ever apologizing to all the students whose BONES GOT BROKE from his scheme, or Azul apologizing to all the students he took advantage of, or etc.

And… I think he DID invite everyone to the party?? We just don’t see all of them because that’s WAAAAAAAY too many chibi sprites to animate in a single twst tune.

[natsarrownecklacx]

Down The Witches Road

Agatha Harkness x Reader Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1,898

Summary: After the death of your wife you decide the best way to get her back is by travelling the witches road. Not everything goes according to plan.

Warnings: Talks of death, scary Agatha, mean coven behaviour, betrayal, lil sad moments, in general just be warned this is not a fluff fic. Based on this thought I had.

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

This, every single thing about this, is difficult. There is no other way to put it. The witches road is set to test its travelers, those who are mad enough, desperate enough to brave it. You’d known this before you’d ever even approached Agatha with your plan to travel its tricky path, but you had not expected it to be so cruel.

Ms Heart- Sharon, she was a kind woman. There was not a single bad bone in her frail body, no trace of malice or ill intention to be found in her.

Her death was too sudden. Everything happened so fast. One moment she was there, beside you, the pair of you sharing a quiet, personal moment of shared experience and grief over a glass of wine. The next thing you knew, the very next moment of stillness you got, she was gone. Dead. Her body laid out limp and haunting beside you as you landed in the dirt.

You could do nothing more than shed a tear for the woman, for the love she lost, for the life she lived. For the fear she must have felt in her final moments, all alone. Forgotten until the very last moment. A moment too late.

You shared a sense of comradery with the woman, her loss something you knew all too well. It was your idea to bury her, your plea that swayed Agatha to stay as you and the others layed Sharon to rest.

You’d not expected to grow as fond of Agatha as you had, or at all really. When you’d approached her, it was merely because you knew she could be convinced, that her hunt for power would ultimately lead her down the road along side you, much like it did the first time she dared to face it.

Over the days you’d traveled together, Agatha seemed to take a liking to you, her behavior towards you strangely protective but surprisingly comforting. At first you’d been skeptical, but as trials were complete and challenges beat, you took to her much the same way.

The bond between you, although unexpected, became one you valued. She was your friend. Someone you would protect. Someone you would do anything for. Someone, you feared, you would miss if anything were to happen to her.

You saw the way she looked at Rio, just as you saw the way the green witch looked at her. With so much love in their eyes, so much loss. They longed for each other. You could see, everyone could, but no one said anything. No one needed to.

When Agatha's trial rolled around, her contorted body running at you in the darkness of that room, you’d cried. You’d yelled out for her to stop, told her she was scaring you.

The witches body froze in front of your own, her mind clearing through the fog long enough to catch sight of you tear filled eyes through the cracks in your fingers, hiding your face from her.

Everything froze, the witch fighting with everything inside her to pull away from you. She managed one step back before the lights came on, her mind going black before she woke, an apparition of her mother hovering over you and the rest of the coven.

“You!” Her mothers ghost spat, lunging toward you. Your eyes widened, as did everyone else’s, no one expecting the witch to acknowledge you at all.

Agatha, acting on pure instinct and adrenaline, called out to her mother, running towards her and drawing everyone's attention toward her, away from you.

Evanora stopped, hearing her daughter's voice, turning to her. Agatha’s arms were spread wide in front of her, prepared to defend herself from the ghostly woman, her eyes darting between you and her mother, quickly checking you over for any injuries.

“Agatha.” Evanora sighed, almost as though she was relieved. Agatha's face scrunched in confusion.

“You have to stop her.” Evanora said, an edge to her voice that spilled out into the room, drawing everyone's full attention. “You all have to stop her. She wants to bring her back. She will destroy everything.”

Agatha stands in shock and confusion, her mind racing a mile a minute as she tries to make sense of it all. It wasn't her Evanoa was trying to hurt by taking possession of her body, it was you. “Mother what-”

“SHE!” Evanora said furiously, turning an accusing finger toward you. “Has been marked by the scarlet witch. She intends to use the road's power to bring her back to life.”

A gasp sounds through the room, the others, who were all crowded protectively around you, take a step away, as though being near you might cause them harm. Agatha turns to you, hurt and disbelief evident in her eyes, her hands faltering in front of her.

You open your mouth to explain yourself only to snap it shut a second later, what was there to say, Evanora was right.

Agatha's eyes harden, seeing the truth in your own. “Agatha I-” You feel a tap to your forehead, Rio barley entering your vision before the world fades away around you, the green witch catching you and helping your limp body to the floor gently.

When you wake, you're no longer in that house. It's cold, the feeling of mud beneath you making you cringe as you lift yourself from the floor. Agatha is sitting on a log beside you, the rest of the coven a few feet away, sitting around a fire.

Her head snaps in your direction when she senses you’ve woken up. She stands, moving toward you without even thinking, wanting, needing to make sure you're okay.

She’s been crying, you can see it on her face, the evidence of it tracking down her cheeks. Her arms wrap around you, her voice a flurry of emotion as she asks if you're okay, how you're feeling.

You assure her that you're fine, that everything feels normal and the next second her arms are gone, her body completely taken from you as she steps back, staring you down with a storm in her eyes.

“She took everything from me.” The raven haired witch says, a hint of something you can't place in her voice, making your chest feel tight.

You sigh, taking a step toward the woman you now called your friend, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest growing when she takes a step back.

“I love her, Agatha.” You say, your eyes starting to well, you can feel the desperation to have your wife back creeping back in again. The suffocating feeling of missing such an intricate part of you. “I- I need her. You don’t understand, when you met her, the pain she was in, that wasn’t really her. She’s different. She’s filled with so much kindness and love, god Agatha she is the most kind and caring person I have ever met-”

“You need to keep better company then.” The older witch snaps, regret filling her when you shrink back slightly.

You sniffle, defeat filling you as you bring your hand up to pull on your shirt, revealing the mark, the symbol Wanda had left on you before her death.

Agatha gasps, she’d never seen a symbol like that in real life before, only ever heard of it, read of it in the darkhold. The symbol bonds its wearer with the person who drew it. It ties their souls together. They can sense each other, feel each other's emotions, their love and their pain which means…

“I felt it when she died.” You whisper, your voice shaky as you relive that awful moment all over again. “I could feel it everywhere. Not physically, she protected me from the physical pain somehow but… It was like she was there and I could feel her, I could feel her heart beating in time with mine, I could feel her warmth all around me and then it was just gone.”

Your voice breaks, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you will yourself to keep them at bay. “I was just overcome with this hollow, cold feeling and I knew she was gone.”

You try to step toward her again and this time she allows it. “Agatha.” You say softly, your voice a plea, the desperation you feel shown clearly on your face now. “I can still feel it. Everyday it gets stronger. I’m scared that soon it’s all I’ll be able to feel.”

There's a reason that spell resided in the book of the damed, if not cared for properly, it could have catastrophic consequences for the wearer.

“I need her.” You cry, your hands reaching for hers, pulling her closer to you. “Please, I need her. Help me.”

Agatha’s heart breaks for you. She hates to see you suffering like this, too see you in so much emotional pain it almost consumes you. She can feel it radiating off of you in waves.

She wants to help you, she will. But this, bringing Wanda back, she can’t do that, she won’t. Not after all the pain she caused in Westview and certainly not after the massacre in Kamar Taj.

“Y/n…”

“Please, Agatha. Wouldn’t you have done what she did if it meant you could see your son again.”

Agatha’s gaze turns cold, the concern in her eyes overshadowed by something akin to betrayal. Her lips curl into a sinister smile, a cruel laugh leaving her lips.

“You’ll never get her back.” She whispers. “You will never see her again.”

“Don’t say that.” You snap, the possibility of her words becoming a reality making you feel nauseous.

“You know, there is a way for me to remove the symbol, to take away all that pain you're carrying around.”

You know what she means, had been presented with the same option by others before in the past. The symbol can be lifted, its effects dissipating with a simple spell, freeing you from its cruelty. But there was a catch, the wearer would have to forget the person who drew it in the first place.

Any and all traces of Wanda would be gone from you forever. You can’t bare the thought of not knowing her, not even having the memories you shared, knowing she loved you. No. You wouldn’t ever let anyone take her from you.

“No.” You say, anger in your voice at her implication. “You can’t do that. You can’t take what’s left of her from me.”

“I can’t let you bring her back y/n. I’m sorry.” As she says this Agatha wraps her arms around you, keeping you still as you try to worm your way out of her grasp. “Do it.” She says, her voice cracking as she does.

You can hear the coven as the surround you, their words blurring together into one big chant as you kick and scream and beg them not to do this to you.

Agatha cries the entire time, silent tears falling down her face as she tries to keep you from hurting yourself, from getting away.

When it’s done, your body limp in her arms, she looks down to your peaceful face through watery eyes.

You’d never forgive her for this.

Luckily you won’t even remember why you hate her so much and after time, she tries to convince herself, maybe you’ll forget you hate her too.

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

A/n- I wrote this so fast in fear that id lose motivation n it would never be written but I hope ye like it anyways :)

[incorrectbatfam]

WFA spoilers ahead

Content warning for discussion of mental illness

Can I take a moment to appreciate how they showcased Jason's PTSD in the latest ep? This isn't the first time but I feel like this round struck much closer.

Although this is the website where people are open about mental illness, there's still a reluctance to address the "loud" or "frightening" or "angry" or "messy" side of it. Stuff like bipolar, schizophrenia, addiction, PTSD. It's why I'm extremely hesitant to talk about my own problems even under anonymity.

Conversely, there are mainline comics (and other media) that use this category of mental illness as an excuse for characters to go all-out in their aggression. Even if not intentional, it perpetuates the idea that a trigger will always send the person spiraling until either the worst happens or someone steps in as the "hero." It's basically sending the message to people like me that we're a ticking time bomb.

Then there's WFA. Jason's not fully present during his episode. It leads him into a dangerous situation while at the same time he's unable to grasp things like pain. The adrenaline and the overwhelming sense of fear drives him into fight mode. He gets tunnel vision while he's beating up the bar patrons to try and find the Joker. Without getting into details, I've been in Jason's shoes. I've found myself in risky places doing things I'd later regret. All because of the disconnect from reality that makes me believe what I'm doing is necessary. Not even justified, just necessary. Almost like a survival instinct.

And what's so important is that Jason isn't a villain and Dick isn't a savior. Dick reaffirms Jason's trauma and guides him through tangible steps rather than giving broad sweeping advice. Of course there's no one-size-fits-all coping method, but the biggest thing is having somebody in your corner who sees you beyond this bad episode. Sometimes I have that, sometimes I don't. WFA won't show it since it's all about family, but the times I didn't have someone were exponentially scarier.

At the same time, there are consequences that a simple grounding exercise can't remedy—Jason got hurt, he hurt others, and his appearance at Noonan's definitely put him on someone's radar if not the Joker. And they're just as real as his feelings and (hopefully) he's gonna be held accountable. Because that's how it goes in real life. Something sets me off, I screw up, I get bailed out, and once I come down from it I have to fix the mess I made.

Maybe I'm just reading too much into a fan comic. But I know that if a few panels can resonate so closely with me, then it's worth talking about because someone, somewhere is also feeling the same way.

[heesngirl]

Backstory : Heeseung and you happened to end up staying at the same hotel, and given the circumstances, the time without seeing each other, and the emotions of the moment, your intention was to finally make love, but in the middle of foreplay, you were interrupted.

Note : This would be the prequel to "Be Continued". Only the third part remains to be published, which is Heeseung getting a blowjob.

— Heeseung x MC reader. Established relationship, light smut, mention of confidentiality contract (just a joke from the protagonist), pussy eating, face sitting, body worship, emotional and intimate connection. MDNI

Count : 6K

It was enough to get into the back seat of the car for you to finally collapse just as you had been longing for. Whoever dared to say that your job was not hard at all was definitely nothing more than an ignorant, ill-informed person. Although, you also had to take into account the fact that when they invited you to participate in this event, they made it very clear that you would only cover a certain amount of time; however, a certain girl who was going to take over for you in the end could never arrive and did not notify you until the last moment.

You understood that her job was just as demanding or even more demanding than yours, but you mentally reproached her for having offered to participate, and not taking into consideration the fact that her current acting project could take more time than she planned. Later you would have the opportunity to personally unload on her.

For now you had to deal with your energy drop, since at that point you were more tired than a person; Your social battery was exhausted almost at the end of the day, so you were counting the hours to get out of there and go lie down in your hotel bed.

Although, now lying in the backseat of the vehicle you were tempted to sleep, at least during the minutes that would pass on the way to the hotel.

— Hey! Hey! Hey! Don't even think about falling asleep now. Let me remind you that you have an empty stomach and you should eat something first. So you better wait until we get there. — Joo Han scolds, observing your almost unconscious being through the rearview mirror.

— Oppa~ I'm dying, my little feet hurt like hell and I swear I'm more over there than over here, sleep is overcoming me — your protests sound strangled due to the way your cheek is crushed against your arm, and also because you could barely speak. You weren't lying, you were about to fall deeply asleep. — I don't think I can hold out until we get there, let me get some sleep please~ — you say, putting some emphasis on the last two letters.

Being aware of how noticeably exhausted you looked, Joo Han had no other choice but to let you sleep as you begged so much. It was obvious that he would end up giving in.

— Okay, you win, miss. You can sleep for a while, but I don't want to hear you complaining later when I have to interrupt your rest because we arrived at our destination. — he warns with supposed severity, but both of you knew that as soon as you arrived he would let you sleep a little longer before waking you up to get out of the car.

After having received the green light from your esteemed manager, you settle as much as you can in the seat and prepare to fall asleep. Unfortunately, you don't manage it.

At the exact moment you're about to fall asleep, your cell phone ringtone resounds, the sudden noise causing you to jump in place and abandon the task of going to dreamland.

A string of profanities was about to come out of your mouth, each and every one dedicated especially to whoever dared to bother you at that moment. However, all the bad mood along with the sleep and tiredness went to hell in a matter of seconds, and all after having read the name of the sender who requested to have a facetime with you.

— Oh god, my girl is so gorgeous — is the first thing you hear him say as soon as you agree to start the video call. Heeseung looks radiant from the other side of the screen smiling only for and at you. There was no way you could be upset with him, and even less so after hearing that. — How have you been, babe? I'm sorry for not contacting you sooner, but the concert hasn't been over for long and now we're heading to the hotel to rest. — although you were probably aware of it, he still took the trouble to explain since it didn't leave you any material to overthink.

Well, the truth is that since early in the morning you had been leaving him messages hoping that he would read them at some point, something he couldn't do because he was so busy with his responsibilities.

The concert he mentioned was the same one you had planned to sneak into incognito once you were free, but as mentioned before, the lack of organization and time of Jake's actress girlfriend as special guest and second MC in command, did nothing but disrupt and frustrate your plans.

Obviously, Heeseung didn't have that detail in mind, because you assured him that your itinerary didn't even leave a small space to go see him. Your karma for lying to your boyfriend, who was dying to see you in person after what would be two months.

— Hee, you don't have to give me explanations, I understand and take into account your reasons. — you answer simultaneously, getting up so you can give your beloved boy a close-up view of your face. You can notice how he stares at you in a daze for a few seconds. — I had been looking forward to attending the concert. I was right and I was going to surprise you by sneaking into the audience. But, it turns out that Jake’s boo seems to have an altered perception of time and he miscalculated, his recordings were extended and she couldn’t show up at the event. In the end I couldn’t get a replacement and I had to extend my day. — you confess with weariness and a frown, causing Heeseung to laugh at the seriousness with which you approached your tantrum.

— It’s a shame you couldn’t come to the concert. But leaving that aside, wasn’t it too exhausting for you? — the boy was aware of how precarious your social battery was, and even more so after a long day.

— Yes, yes it was. In fact, I was about to fall asleep, but your call came in and well, you know I just couldn't ignore it even if I'm dying — you confess, your boyfriend on the other side of the screen smiles, moved by the honesty of your words and by having that kind of privilege on your part. — Most likely, once I get to the hotel, I'll just have to get in touch with the bed to fall into a coma until the next day. — both laugh at that last comment, because they knew you were very serious.

— You don't deserve less, baby. Make sure you rest well. Just don't even think about going to sleep on an empty stomach — you perceive the severe tone in his voice and you do nothing but look at him ironically. — Don't look at me like that, the last time we slept together you made me get up in the middle of the night because you were hungry and then you had a hard time falling asleep again. I'm worried that you don't sleep your hours straight or that you skip meals. — he had a point in his favor that was simply difficult for you to refute, so you had no choice but to accept it.

— I'll make sure to have dinner before I go to bed. Don't worry too much now, besides, you should eat well and rest too — you remind him back. You're about to add something else but from the driver's seat Joo Han signals you to end the call. — Baby, I have to leave you. It seems it's time for me to get out of the car. I'll talk to you before I go to sleep.

— It's okay, baby girl, in fact, it's time for us to get out now too — you found that kind of coincidence a little strange, but you chose not to give it importance. — I love you, we'll talk later. — and without anything else to say he cut off the video call.

You put away your cell phone and took the bag you were carrying with you. You saw Joo Han get out first so he could go around the vehicle and open the door for you.

As soon as you got out of the car you noticed the slight gathering of people lying at a certain distance from the facilities; something quite strange in your opinion, since information about where you would stay during your stays outside of Korea was never leaked. Even stranger was how suddenly that small crowd seemed to get upset.

As much as your fame was rising, you found it impossible to believe that their uproar was due to your presence.

— That's how small the world is. — Joo Han's voice resonates behind you and you immediately

turn to face him, but he seems to be looking at something or rather someone who is beyond where you both lie standing.

You look away in the direction where your manager has his eyes fixed, and just that action is enough for you to understand the meaning behind his previous words.

You are perplexed, and the boy on the other end is no better than you, since he also seems to not finish processing what is happening at that precise moment. Both of you are there, looking at each other carefully, trying to make sure that what your respective eyes see is nothing more than reality.

Your minds connect… you feel your surroundings stop and suddenly it's just you two in the world, in the same place and time. If it weren't for the people who were hanging around those same places, you would have surely run towards him and even jumped into his arms. At that moment you thanked the universe, destiny and any other omnipotent force for conspiring in your favor.

— Hey come on, we can't stay out here for so long — Joo Han murmurs, making you leave the dream plane in which you seemed to be immersed. — You can talk to him later — he says as he urges you to start walking and enter the hotel once and for all.

You followed your manager's steps walking through the reception area, in the process feeling the weight of a gaze on you, you didn't even have to turn around because you knew perfectly well who it was. Only Lee Heeseung could have that kind of effect.

While you went with Joo Han to request the rooms to stay in, you managed to see how your boyfriend and his group headed towards the elevator. They made eye contact for a few seconds until the doors closed and he disappeared from your line of vision.

His presence in that place definitely altered your entire system, the level of your neurotransmitters increased drastically, you could feel the excitement bubbling and running through your entire body.

— Come on, I'll leave you in your bedroom to rest. — you look at Joo Han for a few seconds, thinking that at this point rest was the last thing relevant to you, the only thing you wanted was to be able to go to your boyfriend and throw yourself on him to kiss him and then both of you catch up.

After a while of boarding the elevator, you finally found yourself on your corresponding floor. Your manager dropped you off right in front of the door, and after giving you some instructions to avoid unwanted intruders in your room, he went to his own.

After a long, tiring day, you finally arrived at your hotel room. You closed the door with a sigh of relief and headed straight to the bathroom, eager for a moment of relaxation. Of course, not before giving your boyfriend the room number via text.

As the cold water fell on your tired skin, you felt the stress and fatigue slowly fade away. The comforting sound of the water enveloped you, and for a moment you allowed yourself to disconnect from everything. Even the disgust against Jake's girl became a non-existent plane.

After a time that seemed eternal to you, you got out of the bathtub wrapped in a soft bathrobe. As you dried your hair with a towel, you heard a soft knock on your room door. You paused for a moment, getting an idea of who it could be, and the excitement rose in you once more. As you approached the door, the knocking was repeated, this time more insistently.

As you opened the door, you were met by the figure of your boyfriend, standing in front of you, with that mix of urgency and devotion etched in his eyes. Before you could say a word, he had already crossed the threshold, closing the door firmly behind him. His arms wrapped around you tightly, lifting you off the ground as his lips sought yours, leaving no room for surprise. His kiss was voracious, hungry, as if time and distance had been a punishment that could finally redeem him.

You didn't have the chance to react at first, but you didn't need to either. Everything in you responded to that intensity, returning with equal vehemence the way his lips moved against yours. The time apart had been torture, and now every caress and kiss seemed like an affirmation that all of that was over.

The whirlwind of emotions stretched on for minutes that felt like a blink of an eye. The labored breathing, restless hands, and the accelerated beating of their hearts filled the small space of the room, as if the rest of the world had vanished. When their lips finally separated, they both looked at each other with a mixture of need and relief, smiling almost at the same time.

Heeseung took a few steps forward, taking you with him to the bed. He dropped down with an uncommon softness on it, dragging you with him to keep you close. One of his hands went up to your face, outlining your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted with the fervor of his first gestures. His eyes looked at you as if he wanted to memorize every detail, every shadow and every light of your face.

— Baby girl, I've missed you so much — he whispered tenderly, letting his words fill the intimate space you shared. — Every second away from you felt like an eternity. You don't know how much I've longed for this moment.

You were touched by the honesty of his words and the intensity of his emotions. In that special moment, despite your reserved nature, you allowed your own feelings to be freely expressed.

— I've missed you too, baby — you answered in a soft voice, allowing yourself to be more vulnerable than usual. — It hasn't been easy being away from you for so long, but now that we're together again, I feel like everything is in its place.

Time seemed to stop as you lost yourself in the mutual glow of your gazes. You threw yourself

against his lips once more, kissing him more calmly but with so much love in between. Lee smiled so pleased by your action, also because after you separated you didn't last long before planting another kiss on him, and another, and another... and a few more. He was melting internally, he loved this side of you that only he could bring out.

— Yes, you definitely missed me as much as I missed you — he jokes with a lively tone. — Which surprises me. Hadn't you boasted that you wouldn't miss me and could be at peace without me?

At his words, you lowered your head, hiding your face against his chest to hide the embarrassment you felt. Despite your attempt to hide your emotions, Heeseung put his arms around you and caressed your back softly.

— As expected, it was nothing more than a joke, and I ended up swallowing my words — you admit, simultaneously raising your face to look him straight in the eyes. — It hasn't been easy being away from you, Hee. I was aware of how much I need you by my side, even in the busiest of times.

Your words comforted him, and you couldn't even imagine how much, so his way of letting you know was to hold you closer to his body and lean in to leave a kiss on your forehead.

— Now you understand how I've been feeling these past few days. not being with you even for a measly second. It's not easy being away from you, babe, but that just made me realize that we're getting more and more in tune. — his words were so unfiltered, you felt touched by his sincerity.

— You know? This makes me realize how much I needed a moment like this with you. Besides, I just discovered that I can be as cheesy as Jake's girlfriend or Hoon's little sunshine. — both laugh because of such a statement.

— Don't compare yourself, never do, you are you and that's what makes you so wonderful. I'm aware of how loving you really are, when it comes to the affection that comes from your heart, which makes me feel loved. — he declares, his eyes never leaving yours as he pronounces each word. — Also, remember that there's Jay's girlfriend. — he adds, and ignoring a little of the romanticism you give him a little punch in the chest for that last thing he said. But he shrugged it off and just laughed.

— Yeah yeah, you're all so lucky to have gotten such wonderful girls like us to notice you. — you mocked with great pride.

Heeseung laughed ironically, a mocking smile playing on his lips. Then, he turned gracefully, leaving you cornered against the mattress while he hovered over you.

— I can't deny what you say, — he admitted with a mischievous glint in his eyes. — I really was lucky enough to get the wonderful girl that I boast of admiring and loving so much today. — with shining eyes and a pounding heart, you reacted completely touched by Heeseung's words.

Your lips met in a fiery kiss once again, a whirlwind of emotions enveloping you, dragging you into an exclusive world where time faded away and only the two of you existed. Your hands, driven by an overwhelming desire, gripped his shirt tightly. Your trembling fingers sank into the fabric, crumpling it in your fists as you pulled him towards you with an urgent, almost desperate need that demanded the immediate union of your bodies. That demanding attitude, charged with unbridled passion, further ignited the spark in Heeseung, who responded by intensifying the kiss. His tongue made its way between your lips, invading your mouth with a voracious warmth that seemed to devour you from within.

The soft murmur of their sighs mixed with the echo of their racing hearts, creating an intimate symphony that reverberated in the room. Every second that passed increased the intensity. His lips, skillful and demanding, explored yours as if he were seeking to memorize every texture, every flavor. The touch of your bodies generated an almost tangible electricity. Every movement, every touch between you, amplified the connection, the mutual heat enveloping you in a frenzy that gave no respite.

Heeseung's hands found your waist, his long, firm fingers holding you with a strength that, far from intimidating you, ignited your senses. When his lips began to slide from yours to your jaw, his warm breath caressed your skin, sending shivers along your spine. The kisses slowly descended to your neck, where his mouth stopped, leaving a trail of delicate bites that drew barely contained moans from your lips.

Your hands, now bolder, slid down his chest. Each caress was a message, a silent call that Heeseung interpreted perfectly. Slowly, your fingers sought the edge of the garment, pulling it up with clumsy movements, but loaded with intention. Noticing your intentions, he moved away just enough, raising his arms to make your job easier. With a swift movement, you slid the shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor without caring where it ended up. Now, with his torso exposed, your fingers traced the contours of his body. Every muscle beneath your hands seemed to tense at your touch, and the heat emanating from him enveloped you like a flare.

Heeseung let one of his hands venture past your waist. His fingers traced a downward path, caressing the curve of your hip until they found your bare thigh. The fabric of your bathrobe was barely an obstacle to his touch. His hand, warm and firm, rested on your skin, his fingers brushing over it in slow but determined movements. That caress sent a shiver through your body, a shudder you couldn’t hide and that he instantly sensed.

With his lips busy exploring the delicate curve of your neck and collarbones, Heeseung left small bites and wet kisses, tracing a path that made you arch your back, seeking more of him. His mouth was like fire against your skin, a searing heat that contrasted with the trembling that ran through your limbs. Each kiss of his was a mark of possession, as if he wanted to claim every part of you, but at the same time an act of Adoration, laden with reverent desire.

Your hands left his chest to run down his back, your nails barely grazing his bare skin, causing him to shudder a little, drawing a low growl from his lips. His reactions, so raw and genuine, fueled the frenzy that burned between the two of you, leading you to lose yourself even more in that moment.

Heeseung lifted his head, his dark, lust-filled eyes meeting yours, which shone with a mix of longing and vulnerability. His breathing, heavy and ragged, barely allowed him to utter his next words. As much pleasure as you both felt, Heeseung knew he needed your consent. He didn’t want to take anything for granted.

— Will you grant me this night? — he asked in a hoarse voice, desire permeating every syllable. His gaze lowered to your swollen lips, then back to your eyes, searching in them for the answer he so craved. You could tell how needy he was, the internal struggle to maintain his sanity evidenced by the turgidity of his erect member beneath his leather pants. — I don't want this to be just an impulse, I want it to be our moment.

— Honestly, I don't know what you're waiting for to tear this robe off my body and take me once and for all. — you reproached him, your tone suggestive and defiant, each word a whisper full of promise.

You loosened the knot, but left the garment barely closed, as if you wanted to prolong his torment a little longer. His gaze lowered to the small space that opened in the fabric, revealing the softness of your skin, and his jaw tensed. Seeing the flash of desire in your eyes, he lowered his face to capture your lips in a shorter kiss this time, creating a path that would explore every inch of your body, opening the robe further in the process.

His lips left a chaste kiss on your chest, before he pulled away, taking a moment to admire the naked splendor before him.

— I have no words to explain how much I love what I’m looking at right now. My baby is beautiful, so, so fucking beautiful. — he murmured huskily, his words laden with adoration. Then, leaning forward, he began to sprinkle kisses over your bare skin, each contact of his lips sending a shiver that raised goosebumps across your skin.

His mouth moved in a deliberate rhythm, leaving a trail of heat from the curve of your collarbone to your ribs. He continued down with devotion, stopping at your thighs. His warm breath contrasted with the coolness of the room, and the brush of his lips over the smoothness of your skin made you arch your back slightly.

When he reached your knee, he planted a deeper kiss, as if to mark the moment, before repeating his action on the other leg. But just as his mouth began to approach the heat pooling between your thighs, you stopped him, squeezing his face between your legs. Your thighs instinctively closed around his head, trapping him in a gesture that was both one of vulnerability and power.

Heeseung's reaction was immediate; a low, guttural growl escaped his throat. He couldn't hide how much he enjoyed that contact. The pressure of your thick thighs against his face seemed to unleash something wild inside him, an overwhelming satisfaction that was reflected in the dark glint of his eyes.

— Wait, Lee Heeseung, where's my confidentiality agreement? — you teased disdainfully, momentarily breaking the tension with a bit of humor.

He closed his eyes and let out a light laugh, the vibration of his chest resonating against your legs. The joke wasn't new; you'd mentioned it before, but he hadn't expected you to bring it up at that moment. However, he seemed to love that even in the midst of passion you maintained that playful spark that fascinated him so much.

When he opened his eyes, he did so slowly, as if he wanted to make sure you caught every second of his gaze. From his position between your legs, he watched you intensely. His pupils, dilated with desire, seemed to devour you, and the mischievous curve of his smile was as confident as it was dangerous.

— Why would I make you sign that shit if this won’t be the only time I have you like this? — he replied rhetorically while his voice took on a serious and almost mocking tone. The arrogance in his expression disarmed you, but it also ignited something inside you.

Without warning, Heeseung slid his large, warm hands over your thighs, holding them firmly. His fingers pressed against your skin with a mix of possessiveness and tenderness, sending a wave of heat straight to your belly. Slowly, he opened your legs, creating a space that seemed insufficient for the desperation that was drawn on his features.

The moisture between your legs seemed to invite him, and his face was at the exact level, so close that you could feel his breath caressing your skin. His lips delicately brushed the most intimate area of your body, but he didn’t move immediately. Instead, his eyes searched yours, waiting, connecting, as if he needed to make sure you were with him on every level: physical, emotional, and beyond.

From your position, you watch as he licks his lips eagerly, a provocative dance that awakens every fiber of your being. You move a little closer, and close your eyes, letting the anticipation envelop you, yearning for that contact that seems like a distant whisper. However, instead of what you wanted, his lips slide down to the inside of your left thigh. Surprise and a slight flash of annoyance lead you to tap your fingers against his forehead, but he only laughs, a sound full of complicity that lights the fire inside you even more.

— Stop torturing me, you don’t know how much I need you right now. — you whimper, giving him a reproachful look as your mouth turns into a small pout, a mix of helplessness and desire.

But Heeseung, far from taking pity, takes his time, enjoying every moment. His lips alternate kisses between the soft skin of both thighs, a game that heightens your frustration. Just when you think he will finally give in to your pleas, he stops, leaving a kiss on your mound of venery before dropping down beside you on the bed.

You turn to him, confusion and disappointment reflected on your face, while he remains serene, staring at the ceiling as if he were not the architect of your longing. The need to reproach him for his actions bubbles up inside you, but before you can articulate a word, he makes a gesture with his hand, pointing to his face.

— Baby, don’t just stand there doing nothing. Come and sit on my face. I long to eat you in that position. — he orders you with a voice full of raw desire, a mix of authority and lust that makes every corner of your body vibrate.

You don't need him to repeat it. In an instinctive movement, you stand up and let the bathrobe fall, the cool air brushing against your bare skin. Your body reacts to the contrast, your nipples hardening as your breathing quickens. You know what's coming and the anticipation is already raging inside you.

With a determination you barely recognize as your own, you approach him. His eyes, dark and bright, follow each step you take, devouring you with their gaze, and you feel his desire pierce the space between you. You climb astride his body, your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his torso. The fabric of his pants brushes against your wet lips, and the contact sends shivers down your spine. His erection, hard and prominent, presses against your center with a delicious insistence, drawing a low, guttural gasp from your mouth.

That sound, that sign of how much he wants you, becomes an incentive for you. Slowly, you begin to rub against him, seeking that friction that further ignites the fire already burning in your belly. His hands move up your thighs, his long, firm fingers leaving a trail of heat that makes your legs shiver.

— Fuck... You have no idea how much I love you. — he growls, his voice barely a whisper muffled by arousal.

Your movements become more desperate, your hips undulating against him in a rhythmic dance that steals your breath. But his urgency overwhelms yours. In one determined move, his hands move up to your hips, holding you firmly and guiding you towards his face. Your breath hitches as you feel the warmth of his breath caressing your most sensitive skin.

You carefully settle yourself over his mouth, but he’s not about to wait. His arms wrap around you tightly, his fingers digging into your thighs with an almost primal need. He opens you wider, making sure every part of you is exposed to him, vulnerable and within reach of his tongue.

The first contact is an electric shock that makes you arch your back and moan, your hands instinctively seeking support on the headboard of the bed. His tongue slides with precision, tracing slow, deep circles before zeroing in on the exact spot that makes you shudder. His technique is a mix of mastery and desperation, as if he can’t get enough of you.

— You’re so good to me. — you sigh, your voice cracking under the weight of ecstasy.

Every movement of his brings you closer to the edge. The way his tongue alternates between gentle caresses and intense thrusts makes you lose any trace of control. His hands don’t stay still; his fingers run over your hips, moving down to caress your buttocks, squeezing them hard to force you to move more rhythmically on his mouth.

Your moans fill the room, mixing with the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth working tirelessly on you. Your body shakes, your thighs trembling as the pleasure builds in ever more intense spirals.

He doesn’t stop. With every moan you let out, his movements become more fervent, more demanding. You can feel the pride emanating from him, the delight in your every reaction. He watches you from below, his eyes darkened with lust, enjoying the sight of your face contorting in ecstasy.

— You’re mine… All mine, baby. — he whispers against your pussy before sucking you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, a bolt of pure pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body.

Your breathing is a mess; words aren’t enough to express what you’re feeling at that moment. You grip the headboard tighter, your hips moving on instinct, seeking to prolong those sensations that have you on the brink of madness.

— Hee, I’m close. — you whimper desperately, at the same time as you begin to move around in search of more friction. Just as you’re about to come undone in his mouth, a knock on your door brings you both out of the moment.

Both you and he freeze, not knowing exactly what to do, as your minds remained clouded and it was difficult for you to process quickly. Another knock sounds, but this time more insistently.

— Has she fallen asleep already? — you heard someone question from outside and you immediately recognize that voice as Sunoo's.

— It's possible, but I don't think so. Let me call her to check. — the other voice that resonates you also recognize instantly, it was Jungwon. Instantly a call comes into your cell phone, that's when you finally react and get off Hee's body.

You take the robe and cover your body again. You help Heeseung get out of bed and quickly lead them to the bathroom, you leave him locked in there. You arrange the robe and your hair well, then finally open the door.

— Wonie! — you exclaim happily but nervously as soon as you see the boy in front of you. Yang smiles in response.

— I'm here too. — Sunoo points out indignantly at being overlooked because of Jungwon's presence.

— Yeah, hello to you too — you greet in an effort to get out of the way, causing Sunoo to look at you with contempt. Jungwon and you laugh at Kim's expression. — What brings you here? — you ask, continuing a normal conversation.

— We brought a surprise for you. — Won answers and simultaneously he and Sunoo step aside, revealing the female presence that accompanied them.

— Surprise! — the young actress sings, doing jazz hands and smiling widely.

You wanted to throw yourself at her, because the truth is that you hadn't been able to see her for a while either. However, the memory of you working overtime made the love fade away and instead you did the bitter thing of closing the door in her face. However, three hands push, preventing you from completing your action.

— Why aren't you with Jaeyun? — your question wasn't meant to be mean, it was simply the first thing you managed to ask. The actress's face twisted into a grimace of discontent, as she hoped that her presence would really excite you.

— Why do you say it as if I couldn't be away from him? — she counterattacked, somewhat offended.

— Because that's actually how it is — Sunoo confirmed, earning a punch on the arm from the other girl. They both looked at each other in disgust after that. — And do you intend to leave us standing here all night? — Sunoo reproaches you and you do nothing but roll your eyes.

— Don't you have your own rooms? — you reply, crossing your arms and looking at him mockingly, provoking the other girl. At that moment Jungwon had to intervene before the worst happened.

— Come on, let's all hang out together! Look, I bought these snacks and sweets that you might like — you appreciated her intervention and her innate ability to persuade you with food. — Also, she hired a skincare service and the person should be arriving soon.

— Okay, let's all hang out together. But let me inform you that I will not be lending my room for this sleepover attempt — you notice how the expressions of Sunoo and Jaeyun's girlfriend go from excitement to disappointment in just a second, and yes, it was because of your refusal in the end. They were already making themselves comfortable in your bed that undoubtedly had to be well-ordered... according to them.

— But why not?! — the two aforementioned complain in unison.

— I don't have enough energy to have to clean everything after you leave here, in fact, I was about to get dressed and go to sleep and you interrupted me. — you had to lie for the sake of the boy who was still locked in your bathroom.

— Okay, I guess we'll take my room since Won and Jongseong's room is occupied by the latter, Jaeyun and Riki watching a soccer game. In Sunoo's room is Hoon doing FaceTime with his little sun and you don't want to lend yours. We have no other option. — the actress admits. — Go get dressed, we'll be waiting for you over there, it's number 23. Please don't take too long — and without further ado, the three of you prepare to leave.

You're about to close and enter your room but a doubt invades you and that's why you make them stop halfway down the hallway.

— How did you know my room number? — the truth is you didn't remember having exposed your location to someone else.

— Oh that, your boyfriend spilled the beans on Won and he told us. — Sunoo clarified causing you to give yourself a mental blow.

Without making any noise, you entered your room again, got dressed in silence, and then left to meet up with your friends.

And Heeseung? Well, he had to reflect on his actions, since they were practically interrupted because of him.

— I do not allow copies or translations! This content was originally created in Spanish and published on Wattpad.