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washeduphazbin · 11 months ago

Note

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, his dear wife is going to pay him a visit at his work and in the end they almost get paid for lute

New Eve (Adam x Fem! Wife! Reader)

-SMUT AHEAD MINORS DNI-

Other warnings: Adam Being Adam

I hope I wrote this ask and understood it correctly! Adam is my guilty pleasure. I love men who are dumb as rocks and who are going to be absolutely leashed by even stronger women.

REQUESTS OPEN

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

There's a saying that all good things come in threes, Lilith, Eve, and you. Adam's final wife, who physically couldn't be swayed by Lucifer because Adam had met you in Heaven. When you passed through the pearly gates, you were greeted by none other than the first human himself. You were in awe for about two seconds until you quickly gathered the first man was a complete and utter dickhead. He seemed to falter when you walked past him to greet an angel named Lute, Adam's second in command. She tensed a little as you introduced yourself, ignoring Adam's protests that dubbed you a Queen Mega Bitch.

All this to say, it took about three months before Lute caught Adam sticking his tongue down your throat with you latched onto him like a koala. You made a distressed sound at being caught while listening to Adam laugh above you. You distinctly heard him call your mouth as good as a vagina while pressing a kiss to your hairline. "Adam!" You hissed, pulling on the horns of his mask as he let out a defiant sound, "Inappropriate."

"Ugh yeah, that's kind of my thing, sugar tits."

"You need to not make it your thing, or this thing doesn't happen." You drew your line in the metaphorical sand before marching out of the room, faintly hearing Lute argue about Adam's behavior behind you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Two years later, you were Adam's new 'Eve' in heaven with two golden rings to prove the love that formed between the two of you...somehow. Did the both of you fight constantly? Yes. Did you want to wring his neck every time he opened the gaping hole he called a mouth? Also Yes. But did you love him...unfortunately. Even though he had a laundry list of bad habits, a vulgar mouth, and gross hobbies, he had his moments. He was protective, fiercely so, and despite his fuck boy personality, he only had his sights set on you. Lute often asked you what you saw in Adam, and you'd reluctantly sigh and give a tired grin, "He makes me laugh. Plus, with proper motivation, he's putty in my hand." Lute made a sound of understanding, nodding her head,

"Ah, yes. Use your feminine wiles to control those weaker than you, even if they may be physically stronger. We must use what we are given as women. Well, you must. I'm very strong without using that to my advantage."

"Yes, exactly," You snickered as Lute stopped outside Adam's office. "Which is exactly why Sera put me in charge of convincing Adam to meet with The Morningstar's daughter." You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose, "I'll see you back here later, then?"

"Yes, ma'am." Lute bowed, "I wish you luck...you'll need it. He's in one of his moods." before taking off into the sky and down the hall. You reached up with a stretch of your arms, fluffing up your wings to look extra pretty before knocking on Adam's door,

"Adam." You hummed, knocking on the grand marble door once before opening it. You leaned against the entranceway, wings brushing against the floor, as his head shot up.

"Sugartits!"

"Not my name!" You dodged Adam's hug with a flurry of your wings; he grinned, shoving the door closed with his hip. "Adam," you said in warning as he used his angelic magic to fly towards you and trap you within his arms.

"and what would you prefer I call you? My Bitch? Wifey?" He mused, peppering sloppy kisses against your cheek and down your neck. "We could go with Queen or Goddess, preferably." You shot back, dragging Adam down to sit in his chair; you hummed gently, removing his mask from his face. He leaned back, kicking his legs up on the desk as you slid down into his chest, straddling his hips. You hummed, running your fingers through his brown hair, and he melted into your touch, "My name works, too."

"I guess we can settle on Queen. Does that make me your King?" Adam preened as you scratched under his chin,

"Without a doubt...but we must talk about the Young Morningstar."

"Who?" He made a faux confused face which you raised an eyebrow back at in response, "Ugh, Lucifer's cunt daughter. What about her?"

"She's been begging for a meeting. I suggest you meet with her." Your lips began to trail down his neck, nipping at his skin as his body flushed.

"But that's so much work, sugar." He groaned, running his clawed hands through your hair, "Can't I just say fuck off back to hell we're gonna exterminate all of you regardless."

"Sera wants you to at least meet with her one time; she's giving you a lot of trust to handle this on your own."

"And if I do what you ask, what'll you give me?" He mused, eyes sparkling. You huffed, hitting him with the back of your wing, and he laughed, "Come on, you gotta sweeten the deal for me, mama."

"You're such a bastard." You huffed, moving to pull your hair out of your face. He moved his legs to the ground, and you could slide between his knees. "Robe off unless you want dirty," you commanded as Adam fumbled out of it quickly.

"I love you~" He leaned back with a sly grin, hand reaching up to move your head closer to his lip. Your fingers spread across his thighs, and you huffed softly, looking up at him.

"I love you more. If I do this for you, you promise to meet with young Lady Morningstar?"

"You can't just fuck me because you love me?"

"Bite me." You sneered, but there wasn't any malice in your voice as he stood up, picking you up off the ground and pressing your back against his desk.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure. I can't say your robes will survive, though I might need to get you some new ones." Adam popped the buttons on your robe, allowing your body to be laid bare for his eyes. He watched your breathing hitch as his long claw trailed down your neck to your chest. "Fuck I love these puppies, you know that?" Adam grinned, grabbing fistfuls of your breasts, squeezing and kneading to his heart's content. Your husband was like an oversized golden retriever. When he sees something he likes, he obsesses over it like a man deranged. His favorite playthings of yours were your tits and ass. "Any meetings?"

"None. I'm yours for the rest of the day. You can mark me how you'd like; I'm yours, my husband. Well, until you meet with the Princess."

"Fuckkkkk yeah, baby, come 'ere." Adam dove between your breasts, and he felt you suck in air through your teeth. He began to bite and suck on the supple flesh of your chest; you keened, arching into his mouth, hands tangling in his brown hair. You could tell from the way his teeth would graze against your nipples and your flesh he was doing everything in his power to leave marks on the skin.

"Adam...ngh." You panted, feeling his hand move down from your breast to slide down your stomach and between your legs. "Shit," You squeaked, feeling him tease your clit with his thumb and forefinger with a dopey grin on his face.

"There's my favorite girl," He flicked your nub skillfully; for being a massive asshole, this prick sure knew where to find your clit. One finger slid between your folds, and you tossed your head against the cold marble desk. "Damn, only one finger has you acting up? I must not be treating you good enough," He purred as another finger entered you, stretching you out to be big enough for, 'the first ever man god created.' Adam watched with delight as your wings spread out and trembled, glowing with a soft golden glow. "That's it, you're being such a good girl for me. Are you ready?"

"Yes." You panted, "Adam, please."

"God, you beg so nicely, you little slut," His hand reached up to grip your throat, causing you to let out a desperate whine, hips bucking into his fingers. "Beg Harder," He demanded, moving your hand to palm him through his trousers, stiff and aching. "Look at how hard you make me. How desperate. I need you to worship your god."

"Yes, sir." You purred, "You're my God, Adam. I need you, I'd worship for your love, your touch, your dick." You dragged your hand up your chest, playing with the swell of your own breast, "Don't you want to make me happy, baby?"

"More than anything." Adam's eyes lit up in elation, "Stay with me. Don't go to Lucifer. You're mine." He snarled, hands around your throat, "Say it."

"I'm with you. Only you. Forever Adam." His entire body seemed to relax when you said that, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek and lips. "I love you, you annoying Dickweed."

"Love you more, Sugartits." He grinned cheekily before lowering himself to you with a hiss-like laugh. "Tight as ever, and that's why I love you,"

"If you keep talking nonsense while you're literally inside me, I'll cut off your dick,"

"Sounds kinky."

"Adam."

"Fine, Fine, you're so vanilla." He mused, albeit his tone was much softer, fonder than his earlier teasing. His hands grabbed under your knees and pressed you close with a snap of his hips. You both let out a moan, yours higher pitched and needier, bucking your hips, searching for more friction than he was currently providing. You always savored the way he was able to fill you up, he wasn't the longest but god was he thick filling you in all the right ways. Every time his hips snapped into you, you could feel just how deep he kissed your cervix. "Yeah, you like that?" He panted, "Like how deep I'm getting? From the way you're dripping, you're practically soaking through my table. Your vag is like a vice, babe, so tight for this big cock."

"Hm. Your words always know how to turn me o-ng-ff." You moaned out this end at a particularly sharp thrust of his hips. "Fuck you," You panted as he grinned down at you,

"Good news, wifey, that's exactly what we're doing-"

"Sir!" You let out a scream as Lute slammed the door of his office open, you climbed against Adam's body like an embarrassed Nun. He groaned, still inside you but having the decency to cover you with his wings.

"What do you need, Lute? I'm a little busy getting it on with my sexy ass wife." Adam complained, motioning to the top of your head, to which you made an embarrassed sound of mortification. "Can this be rescheduled or-"

"The Princess of Hell is here, Sir. She just showed up-"

"Are you for real telling me that the bitch Princess of Hell is seriously cucking me right now?!"

"...Yes."

"(Y/n) If I killed her for interrupting us, would you be pissed?"

"Beyond Adam."

"Fuck."

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #x reader #fem reader #adam x reader #adam x you #hazbin hotel adam x reader #smut #requests open #reader insert #hazbin hotel smut

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retiredteabag · 1 month ago

Text

Wishful Thinking

arranged marriage with Nanami… a continuation

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

The silence that permeates the car you were shuffled into with your husband is suffocating.

Your life partner had let go of your hand the moment he had reached to buckle you into your seat. You strain your fingers now, hoping the sweat on your palms hadn't been noticeable.

A driver from your clan's estate had been tasked with dropping you and your husband off at your newly arranged space. You knew this man, the man who was seated directly to your left, was not affiliated with any clan, this meant you had no idea where you were headed.

Several shipments of your belongings had been retrieved over the weeks since the higher-up's declaration of marriage for you had been in place. A steady and simple move-in awaited you. Something you weren't particularly happy about.

You thought through a list of things to occupy yourself with instead of awkwardly standing in this stranger mans presence.

As curious as you were about your future arrangements, you truly could not ignore the silence in this vehicle much longer. Had you married any of the expected bachelors, you were sure your ear would be talked off at this point, yet, you did not even know this mans name.

You took in a deep breath, preparing to speak, the blonde fellow, (your literal husband) turned to meet your eyes, likely having expected you to say something. His eyes shock you, and you turn away once more to stare out the window.

You strain your hand into a fist and work up the courage. Turning with an inhale once more, you force out words before you can change your mind, "Terribly sorry..." You start, looking him in the eyes, "Could you remind me of your name?"

You had never been given it to begin with. Perhaps the officiant at your wedding had recited it in his speech, but you had been a little distracted at the time.

"I'm sorry?" He strains his neck in your direction, eyebrows raised.

"Your name? Sorry... I think I ought to know it, right?"

"You don't know my name?" His head shakes a little as he speaks, incredulous.

You hesitate, "...No? I wasn't paying the most attention for it during the ceremony..." You mumble the last bit, waiting for him to cut you off, but he just stares at you.

"I'm sorry-" His hand hovers mid-air, "You weren't given my name?"

Oh no, you've offended him.

"Oh! It's not like that! My family is....very fond of you! And the higher-ups speak very well of you as well! I...well...I erm..." How do you fix this? Stroke his ego?

His hand is firmly on his forehead now. "That is not what I meant. I'm asking you - you were not informed of my name? Who I am? Were you even aware you were to be wed?"

You fumble a bit with the skirt of your dress, "Of course! Yes, I just... well, I didn't know who, but the marriage bit was no surprise."

"But the rest, that is all true? You had no idea you would be marrying me?" He looks frustrated, to say the least. You had no idea this would come as shocking news, someone should have informed you.

He is peeking at you through his hand, "Well...no, but-" He cuts you off now, but he seems to not be speaking to you.

"No wonder you looked so ill up there..."

Okay ouch.

"When did you agree to this marriage? Was this simply... decided for you?

You weren't sure what to say. Had this not been decided for him as well? Speaking frankly, you were not entirely sure of why he had been chosen as your partner, he had no duty to his name. Even so, he looked repulsed at the realization, eyes shot wide.

"Well... it was-" Were you supposed to be talking about this? Should you say this to your husband? "Umm... Well, I'm sure you know the higher-ups are involved with the clans..."

He shifted in his seat to face you fully now, "You...were forced?" He almost looks frighted at the concept. You want to laugh.

Of course, you were. How else did he think marriage worked?

Despite your thoughts, all you said was, "No, it was a mutual understanding that I would be married."

"Yet you know nothing about me." He looks forward at the road.

Was that what this was about? "I'm a quick learner, if you're concerned about that."

He sighs and smacks a hand to his face again. "No...No that is not what concerns me."

You have a litany of responses ranging from, 'I see...' to 'what does concern you then?' but you say none of them. You just sit forward and stare at your palms.

Oddly enough, it does not take long for the silence to be broken once more.

"Nanami." He says.

"I'm sorry?" You hadn't expected him to speak, eyes wide, you turn to him again.

"Nanami Kento. That's-" He sighs, as if it's a real chore to introduce himself, "my name is Nanami Kento."

You look to one another for a moment before you quickly break the connection, gazing out your window, deigning to not look again until you arrived.

"Mmm...thank you." You finally say.

Although you knew the house was not terribly far from your family estate, it felt like hours had passed before you allowed yourself to move once more.

Mr. Nanami had climbed from his seat once the car had halted.

Eager to be away from me it seems.

Only, he had seemed surprised as you climbed from your door as well, having walked around to greet you.

"Allow me," He had said, reaching for the small train case in the back of the car, it had been filled with small wedding gifts and your husband insisted on carrying it for you.

I wonder how long he will keep up this act. You found yourself thinking. Your new residence was sizable. Nice, in an uncomfortably clean way. Perhaps that is how your husband liked it.

As you stepped over the threshold, moving out of "the man of the house's" way. You took it in.

This place must have been chosen by the higher-ups. Your father would not have bought you a home, nor did you expect a man without clan connections to have been able to purchase such a plot of land.

It was only mid-afternoon. Yet your life was impossibly different than it had been only a few hours prior. You had expected the driver to stay and discuss the honeymoon with the two of you but it seemed he had not been instructed with that information.

As many frightening realizations occurred to you, you were able to resign yourself to acceptance, putting aside the...bedding...situation... the concern that stuck with you was dinner plans.

Were you expected to have that prepared? You didn't know what he preferred though....

Thoughts of your...marital duties swam in your head while Nanami was making his way towards the living room.

"Of course," He was saying, "You're free to use whatever you like, these things are as much yours as they are mine..." He had rounded through the sitting area and around the kitchen into the master bedroom, never once turning to look at you.

It was clear that people had come to prepare the area for you two. On his bedside table, you see a comfortable pair of plaid pajama pants and a loose grey shirt. You had not been presented with such. No, on the bed, strewn out for the both of you to see was a... sordid... set of black lacy lingerie.

You stood in silence. A resigned look on your face. Your husband on the other hand, had coughed, spun around, and fully walked from the room in moments.

What was he doing? Was he sickened by you? Did he expect you to appreciate his apprehension? If you were being honest, you would like for him to get this act over with as quickly as possible.

Looking at your marital bed, you were once again reminded of your mother's sobs only this morning. You looked down at the gown that clung to your waist. You had felt pretty today, despite the occasion. You knew you would not feel beautiful in that raunchy piece of string.

How long do I have? You wondered.

Finally moving yourself, you come before the undergarments, sit next to them, and run your hand along the bed's silky duvet.

You sat in silence for longer than you expected to be given. You finally reached your hand up your spine. Unzipping the dress, unbuttoning the clasp at your neck.

You slid it off your body. Walking around the room near-nude to lay the dress along the ladder of a bookcase. It was nice, actually. Maybe you wouldn't mind it here.

You did not rush to dress in the sexy, frilly, underthings. You might not have been perfectly comfortable in your body, but that didn't matter. Not when you had knowledge of the intentions behind your wedding for years.

It was a bit of a challenge to get it on. You weren't sure how to get your arms through at first, and then you swapped them around when you couldn't figure out the neck bit.

What did it matter, it would be coming off anyway.

After dressing, you sat in the same spot on the bed for a while, staring at your hands. You wondered if he was expecting to eat first. Seeing as he had left you alone, however, you figured he would return eventually.

It was cold like this, you hopped he would hurry.

Just as you were beginning to consider moving to look at the bookcase, (panty clad and all) your spine snapped into place when you heard him calling for you. When had you given him your name? You weren't sure.

He was speaking loudly so you might hear through the wall, but not in a frustrated manner, "The kitchen staff is arranging something for us to eat-" He had slowly began to open the door, when his eyes landed on you. Not a moment passed before he dropped whatever he had in his hands. It loudly clattered to the floor and he slammed the door shut. The noise echoed in the room.

"What-??!" He stuttered, "What are you doing?!!"

Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish. What were you doing? What did he mean? And how exactly do you respond?

"I... uhh-" You looked down at yourself in the ridiculous lace.

You had not been trained in much regarding sex, having been told that the man you would marry would be well aware of how to educate you when it came to your actions. Suddenly self-conscious, you wondered if you had done something wrong.

Nanami calls your name from outside your new bedroom, then repeats it. Firm and unmoving. "What-are-you-doing?"

Your hands flounce around. Stuttering for a response, "I- I don't know!?" You finally force out, the tone coming off a little too questioning for an answer.

After a moment there is a dull *bonk* against the door. You hear no response for a long while. The room is so silent, you can hear your heart pounding. It was so painfully uncomfortable, you reached a hand to your chest to try and calm it. Finally, he clears his throat and calls out to you from behind the door again.

He speaks your name gently, as if calling to a child, "I'm going to come in now, okay?"

You sit upon the bed once more, back straight. "Alright." You nod to yourself.

Unsure of what to expect, you watch the door handle tilt to allow for your husbands entry, but your eyes narrow as he shifts into the room, avoiding your gaze - in fact - avoiding your presence completely.

His arm is shaking off his nicely tailored suit jacket. Still turned to look at the closet, he comes before you, jacket in hand, and reaches out for your shoulders. You almost want to shrink back from this odd behavior but remain still as he wraps you up in his clothing.

After a few awkward seconds, he turns to look at you. "What are you doing?" He repeats, low and calm.

You raise your brows, "What... are you doing?" You reach up to feel the jacket covering your collar and torso, instantly, he drops his hands from your shoulders.

He shakes his head, a hand tugging at his loose blond hair. "I don't... understand." He is no longer looking in your vicinity. His voice shakes and all the air leaves his lungs.

"I'm sorry." You wrap yourself tighter in his jacket, shifting to stare at him, "Was this not... expected?" His apprehension certainly came as a surprise to you.

Suddenly he's back, fully facing you, "Expected?" He raises his brows, "What is this? You're... what? Doing what is expected of you?". Despite the severity of the moment, it is now that you recognize how expressive his features are. His neck, up to his cheeks, up to even his ears are a warm pink. It wouldn't be improbable to assume his chest is a rosy shade right about now as well.

You decide to push the boundary, share your frustration. Why is he upset? If he does not want you, he should just say. It's not as if you desire him in that way. This has been an incredibly stressful and tense day, at least he knew who you were before all of this, you did not have that liberty. If anything, you should be upset with him!

"Is it not?" You speak up, "Forgive me, but I was under the impression that...this" You pull your arm out from under his jacket to motion between you two, "was how this worked."

He makes a face. Revolted.

"You are- we-" He cuts himself off, waving his hands before himself, then covers his face, "no." He gets out, "This is not how this works."

"Well." Now you're flushing, embarrassed. You straighten yourself, balling his suit jacket in your firsts. "What... would you like for me to do? I told you in the car that I learn quickly, if thats-"

"Stop." He spits out, voice suddenly higher than before, "Just...stop."

You swallow. What does he want from you? "Okay." You whisper.

He calls for you gently, and motions for you to stand. He turns away from the bathroom now and shifts in the other direction, looking at your wedding gown strewn across the bookcase ladder. He purses his lips. "Please.... dress yourself." He swallows, motions towards the wardrobes along the wall. "Something comfortable in there. I was... going to ask your preferences, for a meal-for dinner. Let me-"

He clears his throat, moving away now toward the bedroom door, he drops to the floor and picks up what must be his phone, having been dropped earlier, he rubs the screen on his pant leg. "What would you like?"

You stare at him, straight-faced. "Anything you like." You're not a picky eater.

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, "No. What do you like to eat?

You shrug, "Anything. I don't mind." You shake your head at him and he just looks you up and down. The stupidly large jacket comes mid-thigh.

He takes a deep breath. Then exhales dramatically. Nods. And he's gone. This time, when closing the door, he makes an effort to do so gently.

You had found a soft cotton pajama set in one of the dresser drawers. Having long since removed your previous attire, you wonder what your husband is thinking of as he silently serves two plates of Chinese food.

You wonder what your father would say if he saw Mr. Nanami serving up dinner for his wife as you sat on the living room couch.

You're taken from your thoughts as Nanami places a large wooden tray on the couch, he places the food on it.

It seems you will very much be eating together.

"I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if you don't." He murmurs, seating himself near you in the dimly lit room.

In no world would you complain about the food your husband served you. Even if you disposed it, luckily, you liked Chinese cuisine. Before you can even get out a word of appreciation he is speaking again, "I think we should talk."

You sit up straight. "Alright."

He motions for you to eat, "Feel free. I think we ought to have an open discussion."

You grab your utensils but don't reach for anything until after he takes a bite. Awaiting his words.

"Well... I believe we ought to be on the same page about this. I had been under the impression that we were... but as I can see, that is not the case." He stares at you intently.

He is not speaking down to you, but rather, making space for an open conversation. You set down your chopsticks, and await further explanation.

"I suppose I should know what exactly the higher-ups asked of you."

You raise your brows, "Sorry?"

An apology has become a common synonym for many of your reactions.

"Earlier, you asked me for my name. And just then-" He flushes a little, motioning to the bedroom, "well- you mentioned expectations and I feel I ought to ask you what is is that has been requested of you."

Is this man daft? Is he playing with you?

Before you respond, you test the waters, "What did the higher-ups demand of you?"

The man sighs.

"I am terribly sorry," he calls your name again like its easy, a habit that makes your stomach flip, "It seems that people have not been honest with you, you deserve an explanation. I just expected you to be aware of this before our union."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes watch you and the chopsticks laying on the wooden tray.

Ah.

You reach to take a bite. It's good, and oddly puts the man before you at ease.

"Before this, I was intending to leave sorcery."

He states it as if it is nothing. Your eyes bug out and he pauses, allowing for you to ensure you heard correctly.

"The higher-ups have a large amount of sway in Tokyo, I'm not sure about Kyoto, but they were not fond of this plan."

I can't imagine why that would be. You thought as you recalled the moment you had first seen this Nanami Kento.

It had been an annual meeting between the Kyoto and Tokyo branches. You had heard him refer to sorcery as "a pain". Had he been considering retirement even then?

You simply nod, listening quietly. "It was their intention to find me...a wife." He huffs, "Maintaining a life in sorcery was highly important to them."

Oh, you see. Perhaps he wasn't so different from you after all.

The higher-ups have only had one expectation for you, even since showing promise in the world of sorcery, even after moving up the ranks at Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College. Your job was plain and simple.

To have babies.

Sorcerer babies.

Had they been so afraid of losing one sorcerer to the regular world that he was cornered into loveless marriage? All to keep him from departure? Was that why Gakuganji had been so immediate with his instatement of your husband?

"I see..." You nod once more.

"I would like to know your experience as well. What was it that they asked of you?" He had both hands laid flat on the makeshift table between the pair of you.

You consider what to say. "I...have known-" you try again, "My duty has been laid out for some time now." You tilt your head, he's squinting at you.

"Please. Just tell me. They... forced you - to - to do that?" He points his head in the direction of your room once more.

Now you're confused. You want to speak in a way that doesn't insult his intelligence but he's making is difficult for you. "Did you not... marry me for children?"

He chokes.

Coughing to clear his throat, he wipes his mouth. "That is not- eugh-" he tries again, "They cannot ask that of you. I will not do anything that you are not explicitly requesting of me." He pauses effecting a moment of silence before, "Do you understand?"

But you don't. "Mr. Nanami, are you... not expected to produce children? Is that not why you were chosen to be in this situation?"

He responds quickly and with precision, "I did not marry you for what you could give me. No."

You can't hold in your confused laugh, "Then...why?"

"Was it not the easiest for the both of us?" He smirks at you, his shoulders have eased only slightly after hearing your laugh, "I was informed that your other options were not the most savory."

"You knew you would be marrying me?" You ask, ignoring his reference to your suitors and flummoxed by how easy it is to speak comfortably with a man you had been so recently adverse to.

"Yes. I... cannot believe you were not provided the same..." He pauses, "I was under the impression that this was a mutual decision..."

"Oh." It's all you can say.

Nanami takes in a deep breath from across the couch cushions. "I'm sorry." And you really believe that he means it. "I would not have agreed if I knew." He forms a flat line with his lips.

"I think you're right, though..." He looks at you, addled, so you continue, “This was the easiest choice. I think so too." You're unsure of how else to conclude.

Your wedding dinner had not been what you would have expected and the night, unlike anything you could have predicted.

Nanami Kento, no matter how you denied and tried to shuffle from the bedroom, had sworn himself to a guestroom after collecting the night clothes laid out for him on the bedside table.

He had gently grabbed your shoulders, maneuvering you towards the bed and away from the exit. Pleading with you to remain in the master bedroom. Claiming that he had intended to sleep in a separate bedroom since the beginning.

Though you pulled at his arms to try and swap your standing, telling him adamantly to take the bigger of the bed options, he simply drew close to you, shifted farther from the door and blocked your sights. He lead you softly to the bed, and when you attempted to side step him and make your way to the guestroom, he took one arm, catching you by the waist, and swiftly lifted you from the floor.

"Please. Do not ask me again. Sleep here, alright? All of your things are here. I will be very comfortable in the guestroom."

And before you could get out any complaint, he had you placed upon the duvet. His hands were off you in an instant, but he remained looking in your direction as he backed to the door you had been fighting over.

"Do sleep well." His long strides had brought him to the rooms entrance with no delay, you were still caught up with the fact that he had lifted you like a sack of potatoes, with one arm no less. "We will likely have to arrange the...trip tomorrow."

The honeymoon, that's right.

He said it in a way that sounded like, 'just to warn you' or 'you should know'. But all you could reply with was, "Right."

"Right." He echo's, turning to walk through the door, and looks to you once more. "Sleep well." And there's your name again, leaving his lips as though you are long time friends.

"You too."

But the door has been silently shut.

His touch lingers on your waist from where he had lifted you. Not in the way your fathers hand would linger after he drug you to and from meetings, not the way his fingers would remain painfully on your neck after he would steer you into conference rooms. But rather, in an almost ticklish way.

You shiver.

And run your hands over your new duvet.

When you had made up your childhood bed and left this morning, you had listened to your mothers cries, sure that last night would be the last time you would have the peace of your own bed. Your heart swelled with the knowledge that you had been wrong.

Your fingers traced the stitching on the comforter. Swung your legs from the mattress, and almost-almost grinned.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

tag list @longlivegojo @kitkatlover015 @l0v3rgirl-owo @smailaway (if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged. I think it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings)

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months ago

Text

Fatherhood. P2

Single dad!Cregan Stark x reader

Summary: The reader follows through with her marriage proposal. (I literally cannot say more without spoiling stuff)

Part 1

Masterlist

...........................................................

"Father?" Her voice carried through the hall.

Bolton turned to give his daughter his entire attention.

"The carriage outside. Have we a visitor?" She asked meekly.

He sighed. "Afraid not."

Her head tilted. "An empty carriage? Who would ever send such-" She found herself stopping at the realization. "It's for me, isn't it?"

Bolton's lip tightened. "It is."

"Ah," she noted wearily. "I'll… I'll collect my things, I suppose."

He nodded, though his heart ached somewhere deep inside to see her go. "Best that you do. Can't have ya forgetting yer lavender, eh?"

She managed a smile. "No. I couldn't bare it."

"Go on, then."

She gave one last look before retreating up to her room.

…

She thanked the driver earnestly as she stepped in, watching the door shut behind her.

This was nicer than she anticipated it being.

She leaned back when the carriage began to move and started to close her eyes before pausing at the sight of a small sealed letter.

She picked it up.

The Stark sigil.

Her fingers shook as she opened it.

My dear lady, I do hope you'll excuse the manner in which you've received this letter. Your father seems to be a man of pageantry and show, keeping you in the dark. I implore you to stop the carriage for a surprise of sorts. - An eager father

She reread the letter a few times before daring to do as it said.

Tap.Tap.Tap. against the ceiling of the carriage.

It came to an abrupt halt.

She paused with her hand still raised at the ceiling. Her ears listened intently for any noise at all.

The door soon opened and light poured further into the carriage. A hand shot out and she took it, stepping out.

When she stepped out and her eyes adjusted, the sight of her hand in Lord Stark's threw her off. "Lord Stark…?"

Cregan's bright smile filled her sight. "Hello, sweet girl."

She looked around, noticing that Cregan's horse stood behind the carriage. "What is this? A-Are you trying to save me?" She asked with a confused brow.

"Am I- what?" His grip on her hand tightened. "No. No. Of course not."

She frowned. "Excuse my bluntness, my lord. Why are you here then?"

He took a step back to collect himself, and a bright smile came over his face. "Y/n." He took her other hand as well. "Who do you imagine wished for your hand so ardently?"

It clicked then and her eyes widened. "You-"

"-Indeed," he beamed.

Her mouth laid agape. "W-Why did you not tell me?"

He rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles. "I had thought your father would, but alas."

"I fear I've embarrassed myself then-"

"-anything but." He persisted, "You've proven to me just how loyal you are. That's a trait that is not easily learned."

"You truly wish for my hand?" She asked.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Of course. Now come, Rickon awaits us in Winterfell."

Her eyes lit up. "Then we must go." She moved to the carriage, then paused when she noticed Cregan's lack of movement. "You are not traveling with me?"

He frowned. "A northman does not fair well in carts and carriages. We're made for horses."

She hummed. "Very well." She turned on her heel and began to walk to the horse.

He shifted his weight to his other foot. "What're you doing?"

She looked over her shoulder. "What? Think I can't manage one horse ride?"

An amused smile came over his face and he shook his head in acceptance as he strode over to her.

Did he have to lift her onto the horse? Yes. Did he have the reigns the entire time? Yes. Did she know a single thing about horses? No.

Did he point it out or complain once? Never.

…

The young woman had spent more time with Rickon than it seemed with Cregan for the time being.

Sure, their wedding was still a few weeks out, but it was a strange thing to see a woman so infatuated with a son that was not of her blood.

"A horse? Yes," she grinned as she tapped the wooden horse on the ground as if it was galloping. "It's a mighty horse, isn't it? Very strong. Much like your papa's."

Rickon moved to his small chest of toys and pulled out another wooden thing, quickly moving to sit by her and do the same thing with his toy as hers.

"A direwolf? Horses gallop. See?" She replicated her motion. "But direwolves run. Here." She held her hand over his and lightly moved it to tap at a smoother and lighter rhythm. "Horses move with their mind. Wolves move with their hearts. That's what makes them predators."

Rickon tries to replicate the motion she made. It was sloppy, but it was clear that he got the idea.

"That's wonderful. You're a clever boy," she preened at him.

"Clever as his father?" Cregan grinned from the doorway.

She gasped and turned, not expecting to see him while she was seated on the cold stone floor. "Cregan-"

He walked further in and knelt on the other side of them. "What have we here? A hungry wolf? Or is he friendly?"

She laughed. "All of our animals are friendly. Aren't they, Rickon?" When he nodded, she continued. "Wolves aren't hungry within these walls, Cregan."

His eyes were glued to hers, an obvious heat moving through his body. "Perhaps there is one."

Her head shot up and met his gaze, a pink hue coming to her cheeks. "I-"

Rickon's eyes had watered, and the boy let out a sniffle.

The tension was quickly broken, for both now focused on the boy.

"My boy," Cregan hummed. "No need for tears. I didn't mean that. There's no wolf besides Dark Watch. And she's no evil thing, is she?"

The boy finally let out a real cry, clearly terrified at the thought of a hungry wolf in Winterfell.

Cregan held his arms out, ready to receive the boy's wet cheek upon his chest. But it never came.

He heard her soft gasp as Rickon launched himself against her chest in desperation. She slowly wrapped her arms around him and began to rock him. "Your father didn't mean it, my little Rickon. It was only a jest."

Cregan wanted to be mad. He felt that maybe he should be. But there was no angry bone in his body.

His son had found a comfort besides him.

He believed he found himself falling further for her, if that was even possible.

…

"CREGAN!"

His head shot up from the letters sprawled across the council table. "Excuse me."

He didn't wait for permission from the council members before he ran out of the room and a fast pace.

The man pushed himself to run down the stairs, through the corridors that felt like forever, until he came upon his son's room.

"Cre-Oh. Oh, you missed the most wonderful thing," his betrothed beamed.

Relief filled him. "I thought you dead from the sounds."

"My heart is very much alive," she claimed. She held Rickon on her hip and Cregan couldn't help but imagine her doing so with his seed growing inside her.

He had to physically shake the thought away.

"W-What is it?"

She pulled Rickon closer to focus and her voice lowered. "Pa-pa," she enunciated. "P-ah p-uh."

She looked expectantly at the boy who only stared back.

"Oh, Cregan. I promise he said it. I truly do!"

He shook his head with a sigh. "I believe you. I do. But I've not heard him speak. If it wasn't for his cries, I'd fear he had no voice at all."

"Be easy on him. He's learning."

"He should have already," Cregan sighed. "I fear it's my fault."

Her head tilted and she shifted the boy. "I don't see how it could be."

Cregan fully sat at that point, crossing his legs lazily. "His mother died on the birthing bed, you know."

She nodded. "I remember."

"I was in shambles after that. Couldn't dare to look at him." He ran a hand through his hair as if brushing the memory away. "Took some time to get over it. And by then, well, the damage was done."

Her heart ached at his honesty. "There were wet nurses and servants to help though, surely?"

"Yes, but none are the same as a father's touch."

Her body grew warm, and not just from the child in her arms. "Indeed."

Cregan leaned forward and brushed his hand over the back of the boy's head. "He's a good child. I'm glad he has you."

She looked up at the man and admired the genuine smile that was over his face.

…

The weeks following were easy. Breaking fast with Cregan, followed by a walk through the halls to help her grow confidence in her home. Then hours in the library where she read or stitched. A servant brought small foods to tide her over to supper. Then supper with both Cregan and Rickon. The poor boy had to sit on his knees to even see over the table.

"No, no," Cregan laughed heartily. "You were terrified, my love!"

"I was n-" She couldn't help but brake into a smile. "Well, you're an intimidating man at first sight!"

"Am I still?" He asked as a tease, but it was mixed with something else. "Do I frighten you?"

Her breath escaped in a short pant, overcome with the thought of what being his wife would truly entail.

He was frightening to everyone. Firm and strong, not easily swayed. Cold and forbidding.

"No."

"No?"

"Not at all."

He gained a smirk. "How so?"

Her eyes shifted between him and his son. "You're softer than you wish to seem."

A fire was lit behind his eyes, and she knew that if Rickon wasn't there, they may have been doing something entirely different.

"Smart girl."

She preened at his praise.

…

"What about-"

"-I have it handled."

Her head tilted. "Fine. And th-"

"-It's been done. You worry too much."

"One last thing. T-"

"You intelligently foolish woman," he sighed as he took her shoulders in his large hands. "I have done it all. You need only do your part."

She forced herself to take a deep breath. "You wonderful man."

"And you, Lady Bolton? Are you not a wonder as well?" He grinned.

"Lady Stark," she corrected him.

…

She fit into the role of lady with grace and ease.

As if there was never such a prefect fit.

"Come," she beckoned Rickon along. "Your father is expecting us, and we shan't keep him waiting."

Upon seeing them enter the council room, Cregan's gloomy demeanor was instantly lightened. He stood up. "You're late."

She hums. "Do excuse us. Lord Rickon was practicing his jumping and who am I to stop him?" She teased

"Ah," he acknowledged when they got close enough. He bent down and picked up the boy. Once Rickon was held firmly against him, Cregan tilted his head down and kissed his wife deeply.

She pulled away with a fond giggle and red cheeks.

Cregan was an unashamed man, kissing his wife in such a manner in front of his councilmen. "Sit," he gestured to her chair. "Let us begin."

…

"I'll never know how to thank you," Cregan remarked quietly one day.

The three had managed to get away from Winterfell for an afternoon. Seated on the dead grass, she watched Rickon spend his time chasing a bird that was so far in the air, he'd never have a chance, even if he could fly behind it.

"Thank me? For what?"

"For this. For being able to live in such ease," he said as he gestured out to the field.

"I should be thanking you," she hummed as she reached out to their basket and ripped of a small piece of bread, eating it.

He leaned to her and placed a sweet kiss to her cheek. "Never."

She giggled and ripped another, now turning to him. "Fatherhood suits you, my love." Her hand came up to his lips.

He opened his mouth, smirking as his wife's hand pushed the bread between his lips. Her fingers rest there as a look comes into her eyes.

Cregan chewed the bread then kissed at her fingers. "And you, you wonderful mother."

"PAPA!"

Their heads shot up at the sound.

"Rickon?" Cregan's eyes widened. "RICKON?" He stood in a hurry and his eyes scanned the field.

He ran out when he saw where his son sat in the dirt. "Son, what are you doing? Gods, are you well?"

Rickon looked over his shoulder. In his hand was a flower. He held it up.

"Oh." Cregan bent down. "You scared me, boy. Yes, yes, that's a lovely flower."

Rickon stood up on his still pudgy legs and moved passed his father.

Y/n had been watching and had slowly starting walking to them. When Rickon neared, she bent down. "Did you speak?" She asked softly.

Rickon held the flower out to her.

"For me? Oh, you sweet, sweet boy!" She picked him up and spun him around. "I've never been more proud."

Cregan had joined them at that point. He pulled his wife into his hold. He kissed the crown of her head and whispered in her hair, "Thank you for this. Thank you, my girl."

The family stood there in the field, enjoying every bit of their lives together.

...............................................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname

#fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #game of thrones imagine #cregan stark x y/n #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #cregan stark x you #cregan stark imagine #game of thrones x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #hotd cregan #cregan fanfiction #cregan x you #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon

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badkitty3000 · 4 months ago

Text

Don't Stand So Close To Me

Five was doing his best to resist you. You were too young for him. Too eager. But when he decided to try and scare you straight, he got a little more than he bargained for. That's when he realized maybe he wasn't as strong as he thought he was.

Five x Female Reader-Insert, 6,700 words, One-shot

Warnings: Smut, explicit sex, everyone is an adult

This was born from a request I received for Five with a young(ish) woman that won't leave him alone. I have modified a few things, but I hope it still works! ❤️

Five sighed and rolled his eyes when he saw you coming toward him. He had been balancing a bag of dry cleaning in one hand and cup of coffee in the other and was just about to chance blinking inside his apartment instead of using the door when he heard your greeting.

“Damn it,” he muttered to himself, wishing he had just risked spilling his beverage all over his newly pressed suits by disappearing inside. Now he was stuck.

“Here, let me help!” you chirped, jogging up to him.

“No thanks, I’ve got it,” Five argued, but as he did so the bag of clothes nearly slipped from his hand.

“Got it!” you exclaimed with a smile, snatching up the bag.

Five gave a weary smile and another sigh. “Thank you.”

“No problem!”

As Five fished around in his pocket for his key, he tried not to make eye contact with you. Actually, he tried not to have anything to do with you most of the time. You just hadn’t gotten the hint.

“What are you up to tonight?” you asked, and Five could hear the twinge of hopefulness in your voice.

“Oh, you know…the same as usual. Make some dinner, watch Unsolved Mysteries, and go to bed.” He opened the door and took the dry cleaning from you. “Typical old man stuff.”

You nodded as if you knew exactly what he was talking about. You did know, in a way. You knew all about Five’s history, his powers, and his actual age. It’s hard to keep that shit private when your entire life has been broadcast across the world for everyone to witness. Unfortunately, at least from Five’s point of view, you didn’t seem to care.

You bit at your fingernail and looked down at the ground. Five wasn’t about to invite you in, so he waited for an uncomfortable few seconds before speaking up again.

“Ok, well, thanks for your help. Have a good night.”

“Oh…ok,” you said sadly. “Good night, Five.”

As Five stepped inside his apartment and flicked on the light, he draped his bag of suits over a chair, taking a sip of his coffee. He shoved a hand in his pocket and looked around his small, quiet apartment. It wasn’t much; just a shitty one-bedroom with a miniscule kitchen. But that was all he needed. That and to be left alone.

Despite trying to keep a safe distance from you, you had yet to be deterred. Five knew you liked him; it was pretty obvious. Ever since he moved into the building, you hadn’t missed an opportunity to corner him at the mailboxes, or in the hallway. Being trapped in the elevator was the most awkward, so Five tried his best to avoid those encounters by blinking around as much as possible. You always seemed to catch him, though.

It's not that Five didn’t like you. You were sweet, and cute, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered that you were so into him. The problem was that you were 21 and he was in his late sixties. Old enough to be your grandfather; at least mentally. Physically, he was in your same age range, which he assumed made things very confusing for you. While you did know all about his older consciousness, Five figured you conveniently forgot most of the time. Like when you wore those tiny little running shorts with a sports bra and decided to do some warm up stretches directly in front of his door.

Five wasn’t fully immune to your little come-ons. He still had a pulse, after all. Not to mention the hormones and libido of a much younger man. Still…even after all that he had witnessed and done throughout his life, he had managed to hold onto a couple scraps of morality. And only sleeping with women who were over the age of 30 was a personal rule of his.

He wasn’t sure why he picked that age; it was still more than half of his. But he figured most people’s brains had fully matured by then and it made him feel like less of a sexual deviant. He hadn’t had a date or any hook ups in a while, though. Most nights he just came back to his place and did exactly what he told you he did. Old man stuff.

As he stood there, contemplating all of this, there was a knock at his door. Five rolled his eyes yet again and set his coffee down. When he opened the door, there you were, as he suspected. You looked up at him with nervous eyes that couldn’t quite hold his own while holding two large containers of food and a bottle of red wine.

“Hi, again. What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Five. So, it turns out I made too much food for dinner, so I wondered if you wanted some?” You held out the containers to him. “It’s spaghetti and a salad, and I had this bottle of wine that I thought would go well with it. It’s nothing fancy, but I know you’re alone, so you probably don’t have anyone to cook for you…” Your voice trailed off and you looked away.

Five ran a hand down the back of his neck and looked down the hallway. No one else was around and he was hungry. He reached out to take the food, but left you holding the wine.

“Thank you, that’s really nice of you.”

Your eyes lit up at his compliment and you smiled. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I cook all the time, so anytime you want me to make you something, just let me know. I’m pretty good at it.”

Five chuckled. “I have no doubt that you are. It looks great.” He was about to go back into his apartment, when he looked back at your disappointed face. Shit. If he didn’t invite this girl in, he was going to look like a real asshole. He was definitely going to regret this, though. “Would you like to come in and join me for dinner? Looks like you made plenty for both of us.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

Five smiled gently and shook his head. “No, you’re not. Come on in.”

After you stepped in, and Five busied himself making plates of food for the two of you, you set the wine on the kitchen table and looked around his place.

“Wow, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.”

Five looked up while he opened the wine. “Isn’t it just the same as your place?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it is. Which is why I’m surprised. I thought yours would be a little…”

“Old man-ish?” Five grinned as he handed you the glass of Pinot Noir.

“…sexier,” you answered with a sly grin, taking the glass from him.

Five’s eyebrows raised. “Sexier?”

You shrugged and took a sip. “I don’t know. I expected more black and leather. Like a real bachelor pad, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s not really me,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “I’m not exactly a swinging bachelor these days.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Oh, no? How come?”

Five saw he had backed himself into a corner and he didn’t really want to get into his love life with you, so he cleared his throat and gestured to the table. “Food’s ready.”

As you sat across from one another at Five’s small dining table, the initial awkwardness began to wear off as the wine started taking effect. You became a little bolder in your flirting, and Five was finding he didn’t mind as much as he usually did. By the time dinner was finished, and another bottle of red was opened, you had moved to the living room to continue your conversation. Five sat down on the couch as you plopped in the armchair across from him, tucking your leg up under you, making your shorts slide up your bare thigh. Five couldn’t help but notice, and you caught him in the act.

As you continued your small talk, Five watched as you fidgeted in your chair. Every adjustment of your body seemed to be just for him, and he found his mouth pooling with saliva that he tried very hard to subtly swallow back down. It was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. The smooth, bare skin of your legs, the curves of your breasts, the way your lips looked so damn delicious as you talked. He was in trouble.

“So,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s getting late.”

You nodded with an upturn of your mouth before standing up and crossing to Five. As you loomed over him, he looked up, his gaze traveling the full length of your body. The wine was giving you more confidence that you normally would have. He looked so damn good, sitting there with his hair a little disheveled from running his hand through it all night, and you weren’t quite ready for the evening to end yet. You reached down, taking his wine glass to set it on the table with your own. When you climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, and draping your arms over his shoulders, he was shocked into silence.

Your warm groin settled over his lap with your tits pressed against his chest. Breathing harder, his hands automatically came to rest on your hips as he looked up at you. You smiled, your hair framing your face as you leaned in to kiss him.

Five closed his eyes, his grip on you tightening for a second as he kissed you in return. You moaned softly into his mouth, pressing yourself down when you felt him start to harden beneath you. That’s when he woke from his trance and pulled his head back.

“Stop.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Look…I like you, but we can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Well, there’s a lot of reasons, but namely I’m way too old for you. And you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

Five rolled his eyes. “Ok, well, I am. And that doesn’t change the fact that I’m about three times older than you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but this needs to stop before it goes any further.”

“You’re sure that’s what you want?” you asked, tilting your head to the side and giving just a little push into his crotch.

He shook his head slowly, exhaling a long breath. “No, but it’s what needs to happen. Understand?”

After you reluctantly left, Five cleaned up the kitchen, jerked off in the shower, and went to bed trying very hard not to think of you anymore. Over the next two weeks, he did everything he could think of not to run into you in the building again. He was afraid that not only would it be awkward, but that he would start feeling things he shouldn’t.

The truth was, you had gotten to him. Despite his best efforts, that little stunt you pulled by climbing into his lap had worked. Fuck, had it worked. Not a day went by when he wasn’t imagining what would have happened had he not cut it short. Those firm tits pressed against him and your soft lips against his…shit, he was going insane. He had to keep to his rule, though. You were just too young.

But you did not give up easily. You knew what you wanted and you were determined to make him see you as the adult you really were.

“Five!” you called with a little wave, as you caught him trying to enter his apartment one evening.

When Five saw you, he cursed under his breath. He really did not have the energy to deal with you. He had just gotten back from a job and he was not in the mood for your little antics.

“You can’t keep coming over here like this, I’ve told you that,” Five explained, turning his focus back to the key in the door.

“I just wanted to say hi,” you said with an innocence that he wasn’t buying.

“Yeah, I know what you’re doing,” he grumbled.

You paused. “I’m sorry about what happened before, Five. I understand why you might be hesitant, but you know…”

“What do I know?”

“I am an adult, like I said. You don’t have to keep treating me like I’m a kid.”

“You are a kid,” Five shot back.

You looked up at him with a tiny smirk. “From what I remember, it didn’t feel like you thought I was a kid the other night.”

Five’s jaw set, his teeth grinding together. He wasn’t going to stand there and get made fun of by some girl that was determined to get in his pants, even if he did have the beginnings of a boner when she sat on his lap.

“Just stay away from me, ok?” he snarled. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, please, Five…I think I can handle—”

Five turned abruptly, his face hard with dark brows pulled together. As he leaned in, his jaw set and body tense, you flinched, but did not break your eye contact.

“You think you can handle me, sweetheart? You have no idea what I’m capable of,” he hissed in your face.

Swallowing, but holding your ground, you nodded. “I can handle you, Five. I’m not scared of you. And if you’d just let me get to know you a little more –"

His laugh was laced with menace as he took another step toward you. You were left staring at one another, neither of you backing down. He was close enough that you could hear his harsh breathing through his nose and smell the faint traces of after-shave. His eyes searched over your face before turning back to his door.

“Get the fuck away from me. Please,” he said quietly.

“I know what I’m doing, I’m not sure why you think I’m so innocent.”

Five looked down and sighed. He was tired of constantly trying to maintain his morality. He was an old man in a young man’s body and he was so damn sick of taking the higher road. Most people thought he was an asshole, and they weren’t wrong. He had a high success rate of keeping the people he wanted out of his life out, and barely tolerating the ones he let in. He was a killer. A trauma-filled nightmare wrapped up in a pretty package. He was not normal, and it was time you knew that.

“Fuck it,” he said out loud to no one in particular. As his eyes locked on yours again, his normally emerald-colored ones became dark.

He continued to take another step toward you, and then another, until you were backed against the opposite wall of the quiet hallway. Overhead, the fluorescent lights hummed as a single fly battled for its life inside one of the fixtures.

“Alright…I will confess, I have been thinking a lot about you lately.”

“You have?”

Five nodded, closing in on you until he was inches from your body; close enough that you could see the faint line of stubble on his chin and hear his deep breathing.

“Specifically…what you would be willing to do for me.”

As his gaze traveled over your body, taking in the tight tank top and miniscule shorts you were wearing, you could almost feel the energy pulsing out of him in waves. It was terrifying and intoxicating, and it had you rooted to the spot.

“What do you want me to do for you?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly.

“Strip.”

You had been trying to keep up with him. Trying to beat him at his own game. But you sucked in a quiet, yet audible, gasp of air.

“What?”

“I want you naked for me. Now.”

He was still so close to you, his mouth mere inches away from yours, and yet he made no further movement to do anything else. He was trapping you there; playing with his prey for fun. And you weren’t sure if he was going to eat you or let you escape.

“Here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. “That’s right, sweetheart. You think you know me? You think you want me? Then, prove it.”

“What if someone walks by?”

Five shrugged with a grin. He took a step back, allowing you enough room to leave, should you so choose. Again, he made no move to grab you, or touch you in any way. He shook his head, eyeing you pitifully.

“Don’t play games you can’t win. It won’t end well for you.”

When you had nothing to say to that, his demeanor changed again. Back to his normal, tired expression, his eyes and mouth drooped. He said nothing more, but just turned back toward his apartment, and opened the door. After he took a step inside, he heard you clear your throat. Turning around, he was faced with an unexpected sight.

With each slow, deliberate step you took in his direction, you started to strip your clothes away. First your top, lowering the straps over your shoulders and drawing it up over your head. Then your shorts, unbuttoning them before sliding them down your thighs and kicking them to the side. Five seemed frozen to the spot, unable to move and unable to speak. But his eyes followed you with an unmistakable hunger.

As you closed in on him, you were left in your bra and panties. With a small smirk, you reached behind you and undid the clasp of your bra. Slowly peeling it away from your body, you watched as Five’s gaze dropped to your breasts.

“Like I said…I’m not afraid of you,” you said, as you confidently jutted your chin out, along with your chest.

Five’s face flickered with shock, followed by what you could only imagine was lust, before it turned to anger. He grabbed your upper arm, squeezing it hard, before shaking you.

His teeth gritted and bared, he snarled in your face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You did your best to pretend you were in full control of the situation. “What you told me to do.”

Five’s eyes roamed over your body for a split second, before they were back on your face. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before. And yet, you had a feeling the anger was just masking something else. Something he didn’t want you to see.

At that moment, the loud ding of the elevator doors rang out, signaling that you would soon not be alone. He looked down the hallway and then back at you. When you didn’t make a move, his jaw tensed even more. Stalking past you to snatch your clothes off the floor, he grabbed your arm again.

“God damn it, get inside,” he demanded, yanking you forcefully through the doorway of his apartment.

As you stumbled your way inside, he continued to grasp your upper arm. He slammed the door behind you and got in your face again.

“Are you stupid?” he growled.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Well, stop fucking acting like it. Jesus!” He let go of your arm, leaving you standing there in just your underwear, while he ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t just go around stripping naked in public places just because someone tells you to. What the fuck?”

You smiled and took a step toward him. “What’s the matter Five? Losing at your own game?”

Five’s breath had become louder and harsher. You could practically see the wheels turning inside his head. He wanted you; you were sure of it. The juxtaposition of desire and restraint was evident in every twitch of coiled muscle and nervous hover of his eyes on your breasts. He had been trying to scare you; make you flee in terror at his aggressive advances. But joke was on him, because you fucking loved it.

Another look of anger swept over his face as he laughed darkly. “Shit. You really do not know what you are getting yourself into here.”

You swallowed nervously. “I don’t care.”

“Well, you should. And you should leave.”

Five continued to bore into you with his intense stare. His dark eyes indicated menace, but his stiff body language gave off something else. Fear. But Five Hargreeves does not give into fear easily. When he feels it creeping in, he turns it into something else. Something mean and ruthless.

When you didn’t make a move to leave, he took a step forward. A half-smirk formed on his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side.

“Alright then…you’ve been warned,” he said pleasantly, right before his voice turned ice cold. “Now lose those fucking panties before I rip them off myself.”

Slowly, and without breaking eye contact, you hooked your thumbs into the elastic waist of your lace panties and pulled them down over your hips, letting them drop to the floor at your feet. You stood perfectly still, allowing him to take you all in while your chest began to rise and fall more rapidly.

You thought you had him this time. How was he going to resist a fully nude woman right in front of his face? But instead of giving in, like you knew he wanted, he gave a small shake of his head. Still holding the clothes you had discarded in the hallway, he stepped forward until he was directly in front of you, smiling derisively. His face was so close to your bare skin, you could feel the warmth of his exhale along your leg as he bent to pick up the pair of underwear. When he walked casually past you in the direction of the living room, your jaw dropped as he opened the sliding glass doors that led to a small balcony, and hurled your clothes outside. You watched in disbelief as they floated briefly on the light breeze before disappearing out of sight; fluttering to the ground, six floors below.

He closed the doors, turning back to you with a satisfied, yet stony expression. He pointed at the door to the hall.

“Get out.”

You paused, your eyes nervously darting toward the door. “What?”

He flicked a piece of hair out of his eyes in indifference. “You said you didn’t care if anyone saw you. So, leave.”

When you continued to stand there, wide-eyed and confused, he snorted and shook his head. “That’s what I thought. I’m not the nice guy you think I am. And I’m certainly not one of your little fucking boyfriends you can manipulate to get your way.” His voice softened somewhat. “I can give you something to wear to go home in, but don’t ever come back here again. This is over, understand?”

After a few seconds of silence, you nodded your head slowly. “I understand.” With a sly smile, you turned, heading for the door, letting Five get a nice long look at your ass in the process. As you reached for the doorknob, you glanced over your shoulder, relishing in his bewilderment as you walked right out the door without a stitch of clothing on.

Out in the hallway, you tried not to panic. You hadn’t really thought out what was going to happen once you had committed to your little act of rebellion. Your apartment was on the other side of the floor, and you had to pass by many nosy neighbors’ places plus the elevators to get there. As you considered your options, your back was suddenly slammed into the wall, Five’s hands gripping your arms again after he appeared in a flash of blue.

“God damn it,” he seethed in your face.

Without another word, you were being ripped through one of his portals, reappearing inside his apartment again. You let out a small cry of surprise as you were flattened against the door, Five’s body pressed against yours.

He surveyed your face one more time, his eyebrows drawn together in torment. “Fuck, why did you do this to me?”

The next few minutes were a blur as Five released everything that he had been holding back in one ferocious attack. His mouth sucking and biting at your lips, his hands fisted tightly in your hair, and his hips jerking into you. Something feral and instinctual was propelling him, and you let him unleash all of it onto you.

With another tight hold on your wrist, you were dragged away from the door and whipped through a second portal, this time landing on his bed with a hard bounce. While you scrambled to sit up, Five had stripped off his shirt and was already unbuckling his belt, the clink of the metal drawing your attention to his hands as they unzipped his fly. Breathing hard through his nose, he looked at you, running a hand through his hair while pushing it off of his forehead.

With his cool green eyes locked on yours, he crooked a finger at you, beckoning you over. You worked your way off the bed, hesitating for just a moment, before closing the few feet so that you were standing directly in front of him.

He leaned down, a hand gently cradling the back of your neck, as he kissed you softly. You thought maybe you were going to see a new, tender side of him. Until he latched a hand onto your shoulder, gripping you hard while pushing you roughly down, forcing you to your knees. As he glared down at you, dark hair framing the sharp angles of his face, one corner of his mouth twitched up.

“You talk a big game, honey, so go ahead. Let’s see that mouth of yours in action.”

He was trying to intimidate you; to show you he was the boss. But you weren’t naïve and you weren’t dumb. There were subtle hints, like the way his breath hitched when he spoke to you, or the slight tremble in his hand as he guided your face up by your chin that gave his nerves away.

With your own small smile and a lick of your lips, you reached up to pull the black suit pants down, taking his boxers with them. Five let out a shaky exhale as his hard cock stood at attention in front of your face. With another coy glance up through soft lashes, you took him into your hand. He was bigger than you would have guessed, and you slowly stroked his thick shaft, pressing your thumb into the underside while following the vein from base to head. When you stretched out your tongue to give a kittenish lick across the tip, he hissed loudly, bringing his hand down to rest in your hair.

“Shit,” you heard him mutter under his breath as you started in.

He didn’t let you work up to it with teasing kisses or circles of your tongue around his dripping head. With one shove of his hand on the back of your head, his dick was down your throat. You let out a clipped groan that ended in a gurgling noise, before he was pulling you back and off again. With eyes wide and already gasping for air, your hair was tugged backward so that you were forced to look up at him.

An eyebrow raised, Five questioned you with a low voice. “Still think you can handle me?”

From your position on the floor, he towered above you like a god, watching as you worshiped at his feet. Your eyes traveled over his sculpted abs, his toned arms and shoulders that flexed with the effort of holding your head back. You took in the scars that dotted his abdomen and thighs; the line of soft hair that trailed from his navel to the main event. He was being rough, yes, but there was something in his eyes that gave him away. Like he wanted so badly to be something else, he just didn’t know how.

You nodded your head in an answer to his question, as his magnificent cock bobbed in front of your face, and you opened your mouth wide.

“Fuck,” he growled from deep in his chest.

Five was losing his mind, he was sure of it. All of his pent-up anger and frustration over his body/mind/age situation was coming to a head; and he was shoving that head directly and violently down your throat. He couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to stop it. You felt so damn good, with your warm mouth wrapped around him and your tongue sliding over the taught skin of his shaft. As his hips jerked into your face, harder and faster, he watched as you gagged and choked on his dick; saliva building up at the corners of your mouth as you so dutifully let him fuck your face.

“Ah…ffff-uu-goddamnit…yes, fuck yes, don’t stop…ah SHIT!”

His head was thrown back in complete bliss as he unloaded copious amounts of cum directly into the back of your throat, the sheer volume making it pour out the corners of your mouth and dribble down your chin. The rest you swallowed, choking down the steady stream of bitter semen while he moaned above you and fisted your hair even tighter.

As he finally began to relax and the last few twitches of his hips came to a halt, he dared to open his eyes and look down at the sight below him. He had loosened his grip on your hair, allowing his dick to slip out of your mouth. You gasped and sucked in the much-needed air that you hadn’t been getting as he released you entirely. Collapsing onto your hands and knees, you coughed and wiped at your destroyed mouth while Five did nothing more than stare down at you with a kind of horrified fascination.

What had he done?

When you looked back up at him, though, and he saw that devilish smile sneak across your lips, daring him to give you more, he stopped caring. It was clear you were going to let him do whatever he wanted. And, fuck, if he didn’t want to do so many things to you.

“Up,” he commanded, still trying to catch his breath.

He held out his hand for you to take, letting him haul you up to standing. He ran a hand down your cheek and kissed your ruined lips. There was that moment of softness again, and you closed your eyes against his touch.

Five guided you so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed. After another kiss, this time leaving you breathless, he dropped to his knees between your legs. Gripping your thighs in his hands, he roughly pushed your legs apart while pulling you closer to him.

Digging his fingers into your hips, he buried his face into your wet, throbbing pussy, and moaned.

“This wet just from sucking my cock? Fuck, honey, you’re driving me crazy.”

Alternating between long laps with his tongue and sucking at your clit, it was obvious he knew exactly what he was doing as you leaned backward, holding yourself up with your hands flat on the bed. When you dropped your head back, it banged against the wall, but you barely noticed since you were already on the cusp of a strong orgasm.

“Five…” you gasped, eyes clenched shut and biting at your bottom lip. You tried desperately to rock your hips into his face, but his grip was too strong. He was devouring you; eating you out almost viciously, while your palms began to sweat as they pressed harder into the bed. “Five…holy fff-uck…OH GOD!” you screamed as one last, perfect lick sent you reeling. With your entire body shuddering, Five only went at you harder; until you were letting out quiet, pitiful cries, and your thighs twitched against his head.

As you tried to catch your breath, Five finally let up, tearing himself away from your warm deliciousness, and standing up to lean over you. He was just as out of breath as you were, with his mouth shining and lips red. A mixture of your arousal and his saliva pooled obscenely underneath you.

“That was…holy shit…” you tried to get out, but you were cut off almost immediately.

“I’m not done yet. Not by a long shot,” he rasped.

Though only minutes had passed since he had unloaded into your mouth, his cock was hard again. As he rummaged around in a drawer, pulling out a condom, and rolling it on, you scooted back so that you were lying down lengthwise on the bed. There was no more time for rest, though, before Five was climbing on top of you, that look of voracity overtaking him again.

He began to kiss you; hard and insistently while running his tongue over your bottom lip and venturing inside. It was a mixture of intense want and hesitation as he squeezed your ass with one hand and lightly stroked your hair with the other. When he pulled back, he looked deep into your eyes, his hand coming to rest gently on your cheek, his thumb pressing under your chin.

“What do you think, sweetheart? Ready for more?”

With a slow smile forming on your face, you nodded.

“Fuck yeah. Give it to me.”

Five groaned, closing his eyes and dropping his face to your neck. His teeth scraped against your skin as he kissed you fervently while your fingers threaded through his hair. The second you opened your legs for him, he was shoving himself inside. Sucking in a loud breath, he buried his face into your shoulder.

“Fuuuck…you are tight…god, you feel so fucking good,” he moaned pitifully into you.

You threw your head back against the pillow with a loud moan. “Oh my god, I knew your dick would feel amazing.”

He didn’t respond, but he took both of your legs and balanced them on his shoulders, angling your hips up to push his dick in even further. He was buried to the hilt, with his tight balls slapping against your ass each time he drew back and slammed back into you.

Five was gone; completely lost inside his own debauched fantasy. He wanted to fuck you harder and harder until you couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to make you cry out his name while your back arched off the bed like you were possessed. When his eyes met yours, with the strands of hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat already forming there, you bit your bottom lip and smiled. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and that made him want to absolutely ruin you.

Smacking your ass hard enough to leave a mark before throwing your legs off his shoulders, Five roughly flipped you over. He forced the side of your face into the bed as he thrust inside you again, stretching your pussy and filling you up with his thick cock. His ragged breath warmed the side of your neck with each punishing drive of his hips against your ass as you whimpered softly.

“Come on, honey, let’s hear it,” he snarled next to your ear. “You’ve been dying for me to pound that sweet little pussy…so let me hear you. I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”

“Fff-iiive,” you sobbed, your fists clutching the bedspread underneath you as he railed relentlessly into you.

“That’s right,” he answered, and you could hear that cocky smirk on his face. “Beg me.”

“Five…please…you feel SO…FUCKING…GOOD!”

The angle of his cock thrusting inside of you, along with his body trapping you beneath him, was more intense than anything you had ever experienced before. You were on the verge of coming; your cries becoming louder while you desperately tried to suck air into your lungs. The sting of his dick drilling inside of you was still not enough to mask the pleasure that was building. It hurt but you still wanted more.

Soon, that inevitable feeling of warmth and tightness formed in your core and you let go with a loud scream that echoed off the walls of his bedroom. Your body convulsed under his as his hips stilled against your ass when he expelled himself one more time. The groan that left him as he came was loud and long, leaving his arms shaking as he held himself over you.

After he was able to move off of you, you continued to catch your breath as you rolled over to face him. Five was kneeling on the bed, chest glistening with sweat and heaving as he flipped his hair out of his eyes. He didn’t say a word, but after a few more seconds, he climbed off the bed to dispose of the condom. You eyed him nervously. You had no idea how he was going to react, or if he was already regretting everything.

After tugging his boxers back on, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you ok?” he asked, his voice tight.

You nodded and sat up. “Yeah, I’m ok, why?”

Five shook his head. “I was way too rough, I shouldn’t have…but you…” he trailed off, his frustration with himself evident. “Look, you got your way. This is done now, alright?”

With a roll of your eyes, you moved off the bed so that you were standing in front of him; the muscles in your sticky thighs aching from the movement. “Get over yourself, Five. We both wanted this, so stop pretending I put some spell on you to make you change your mind.”

He was silent, but he nodded, a brief flicker of a smile forming on his lips. “I’m sorry about your clothes.” He got up to grab a t-shirt from one of his drawers and handed it to you. “You can wear this; it should be enough to cover everything.”

As you worked the too-big shirt over your head, Five pulled his pants back on, zipping them up but leaving the belt hanging open. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a small, balled up pair of women’s underwear. With a guilty smile, he tossed them over to you. “Here.”

You laughed in disbelief. “You stole my panties? What were you going to do with them?”

Five shrugged. “I hadn’t figured that out yet.”

Shaking your head, you looked down at them in your hand. “Such a dirty old man.” Glancing back at Five’s guilty face, you threw them back, and he caught them against his chest. “Keep them. I kind of like the idea of you doing weird things with them.”

Five made no comment, but he tucked them back into his pants pocket with a lop-sided grin. He held out his hand. “Come on, I’ll blink you back to your apartment so you don’t have to go back in just a t-shirt.”

You thought for a second, but shook your head. “No thanks. I don’t mind a good walk of shame now and then.”

As Five walked you to the door, you gave him a lingering kiss and trailed a hand down his arm. “Maybe the next time I make too much food, I’ll come over and share it? Think you can handle that?”

A smile slowly spread across Five’s face and he nodded. “Yeah, I think I can handle that.”

Then he watched as you walked away, wearing nothing but his t-shirt. He shook his head, not quite believing what had just occurred. He had thought he was so damn smart with his moral high-ground and superiority. But as it turned out, you had gotten the best of him. He lost at his own game. Tucking two fingers inside his pocket to stroke the silky material of your panties, he smiled to himself, thinking about how this may have been the first time in his life that he hadn’t minded losing.

#five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five x you #number five x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #five hargreeves #number five #number five smut #five hargreeves smut #five hargreeves fanfic #umbrella academy fanfic #tua fanfic #smut #five x reader #smutty fanfiction #badkittywrites

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N.

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day. You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror. He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock. You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry.

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie. You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted. You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone. Your phone is still on silent from the theater.

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you.

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie."

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight. "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively.

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . . Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion.

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply.

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue.

“How was your date?"

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.”

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze.

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.”

You scoff.

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.” His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special. “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”

You look out your window, which faces the woods. "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains. You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you.

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?”

Are you that predictable?

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly. His breathing becomes audible. “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . . . .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on.

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.”

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You lie there clenching your thighs together.

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together. “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on.

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast.

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock.

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.”

He’s right about that. You close your eyes as you touch yourself. You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.”

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.”

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core.

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?”

You turn up the intensity of your vibe.

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl. Swallowed it right up.”

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops.

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close. “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting. You need a shower.

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears. There’s nothing you can do. You squat down, hugging your knees. There’s no good option.

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby." The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment. Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked. He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see.

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you. One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife. He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.”

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower. He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak.

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle. “Coulda had it how ya wanted.”

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen.

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.” He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down. “You’ve put me behind you after all.” He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick. He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds.

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh. You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it.

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now. He pants as he thrusts into you harder. “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel.

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly. “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.”

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.” He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you. You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own. Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load. He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core. You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants.

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on. He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.”

“The cops have it.”

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe. You look behind him toward the toilet.

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

--------------------------

Please engage (reblog/comment) if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

#ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #mickey altieri x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #ghostface x you #slasher fanfiction #danny johnson x reader #cw noncon #slasher smut #tw noncon #ghostface #slasher fucker #toxicanonymity ☠️#mickey altieri #ghostface ☠️#every inch ☠️#dark fic

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luveline · 5 months ago

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I love ur writing 💕 can I request something where reader is dense sortof/has low self esteem, so she likes hotch, admires him and would love to date him but can't imagine he would view her that way,, so he has to be really obvious with his advances? Not self indulgent at all 👉👈 no worries if not. Love u!

Hotch has to break the news that he’s been pursuing you. fem, 2k

Hotch would like to call you unassuming in the kindest way possible. Unassuming, in that not everyone who looks at you would find themselves immediately aware of your beauty (an old-fashioned way to put it, and true), because your poor self esteem leaves you shy.

You don't believe anyone would want you. It doesn’t matter to Hotch beyond a weary heartbreak for you, as he doesn’t mind if it takes time to convince you. He only wishes you’d have more confidence. You’re pretty and you deserve to know it.

“Hello,” he says, with intent to try again.

You like him. He’s a grown man and a good judge of character, better of action, and he’d like to think that your sudden grimace whenever he speaks is again this cloud of insecurity rather than a true dislike for him. You have to warm up to him every day, but you do warm.

“Hi, Hotch.”

And listen, he’s not one to flirt at work, but if he ever wants a real shot with you, he has to be heavy-handed. “Hi,” he repeats, smiling, “how are things today?”

You’re assistant office administrator for the BAU, and so Hotch isn’t technically your boss, but you do work beneath him. “Things are the same as always.”

“Not too hard for you, then.”

You catch his teasing, which is a new development. “Not too hard for me,” you say.

He doesn’t pretend he has reason to hang around. He thinks it might’ve contributed to you not believing he’s interested; he’d drop by with coffee because you seemed tired, or checked in on issues that didn’t need his supervision, and you’d taken every extra minute spent at your door as his attentiveness to his job, rather than an affection for you.

He stands with his hand on the doorway and just looks at you.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“You look beautiful today.”

You touch the button at your neck. “It’s too much for work.”

“No.” You’re wearing normal business casual clothing. You’ve pulled a necklace over your sweater, soft collar of a shirt kissing your throat. He imagines you’re wearing regular pants and flats or maybe a skirt and short heels beneath the desk, it doesn’t matter. “It’s not just what you’re wearing. You look pretty.”

You could catch flame if something sparked near you. Lost, your lips part, and eventually you squeeze out a timid, “Thank you, Hotch.”

“Aaron.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Can we get coffee?” He dislikes the panic in your eyes and regrets how casual he sounded. “Can I get you a coffee?”

“I’m okay.”

“Well, maybe we can take lunch together?”

“Have I done something?”

“Have you?” he asks.

He feels… young. Haley was the only woman he’d been with at a time, and casually there have been others now, but you’re the first woman he’s attempted to woo like this. He sometimes forgets that you’re shy and that he’s been married, distracted by his fizzing, almost joyful feelings for you. Flirting with you is a pleasure.

You lick your lips quickly. “Where did you want to go? For lunch?”

He was thinking you could bring your sandwich to his desk, but what you’re asking is a thousand times better. “Where do you want to go? Melanie’s?” he suggests.

You breathe out in a strange laugh. “For lunch?”

No, perhaps not. It’s rather fancy. “Somewhere nice, at least,” he says.

“I don’t know where’s nice.”

“Well, we can find somewhere. I’ll try to find somewhere before one, what do you think?”

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Okay.”

He’s pulling away from the doorway when you stand up from your rolling chair and say his name, a near yelp, “Hotch! Wait, uh, wait a second.”

He immediately turns back. “What?” he asks, giving you a quick once over.

“Are you sure I’m not in trouble for something?” you ask. To your credit, you give a bashful little laugh. “I feel like I’m walking into a trap.”

“I have no intentions of trapping you anywhere.”

“Please don’t fire me at Melanie’s.”

He smiles at you again and leaves your alcove of the office to head back to his own. Around the desks and the bullpen where his team sit doing their paperwork, up the stairs to the landing. He pauses before he goes inside.

JJ’s standing behind Derek’s desk. They’re chatting, JJ sipping at a mug, a small smile on her lips. Spencer watches her from his own desk. He doesn’t like her anymore to Hotch’s knowledge, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling at her with that slight thread of lovelorn shyness when she asks him what he’s so busy doing.

Hotch has a moment of clarity at his desk when he realises he needs to find somewhere perfect to take you come lunch time. You hadn’t seemed convinced of your job security when he’d left you, and he spends some time pondering how best to accommodate you as he sorts thought Quantico’s best cafes and restaurants.

He has emails to answer, phone calls to take, and to make. Time moves quickly, and by 1:02 he’s all sorts of late. It’s almost 1:12PM when he’s again at your office door, a warm plastic bag against his side.

You’re looking at your lap. Coat in your hands, lip nibbled raw, there’s an internal conversation happening that he’s not privy to. He doubts he’d like it very much —the agony of self-doubt is written plainly in your slouch.

He knocks your door, feeling very sorry for your startled jump. “Hi. Sorry, I’m late, I know. But I thought I’d bring dinner to you.”

He thought of it like this: if he were to take you to dinner, you could explain it away as a professional superior who was going to fire you and changed his mind, or a superior checking in on his employee, or a superior simply being kind. He has, on occasion, taken different members of his team or office out to discuss things in their lunch hours because he was busy and needed their time at a convenient hour. You might not think anything of it.

Right now, Hotch really wants you to think something of it.

“What?” you ask.

“Is that okay with you, if we stay here?”

It’s a little much for you, apparently. You finally tip into incredulity. “Aaron, is everything alright? I really don’t understand what’s going on.”

“I’d like to eat lunch together.”

“But why?”

“Because you’re good company.” He’s sat knee to knee with serial killers, and his next sentence is still scary, “Because I like you, and I’m not sure how else to show it.”

You press your coat to your stomach, frowning. “You like me.”

“I was under the impression that you liked me too,” he says, smiling despite you and himself. Hotch might be a drill sergeant and a bully all those terrible moody stations as a boss, but he’s also just a man, and there’s little room for stoicism in love.

“But you…”

He waits, but then feels too sorry for you to let you flounder. “Honey, I don’t know how else to put it. I’ve tried compliments, I brought you that plant,” —he points to the still blooming orchid on your window— “I ask you what your plans are every weekend.” He looks swiftly behind him. Alone, he edges into your office to close the door and allow some privacy. “And every weekend I ask you if you want to get a drink. I’d think you didn’t like me if it weren’t for your tell.”

“What’s my tell?”

Your hand. Whenever he’s around, you take something into your hand and squeeze at it or feel it like you’re going to explode with nerves. He saves you the explanation, and instead lays his most gentle look on you. “If I’m wrong, please let me know. I’d never want to put you in an uncomfortable position, but you’re lovely.”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” you say, semi-disbelieving. “You never do. I'm just confused.”

“I’d really like to get to know you as more than a colleague.”

“You know me,” you mumble.

He does. He knows what your favourite colour is, your favourite food, your soccer team. He sent you flowers on your birthday, asks after your sick neighbour, and checks your office light every night when he goes home, though he knows what time you leave each evening. And he knows that you’re scared to admit to liking him or anyone, because you worry you’re not allowed.

“I do,” he agrees, giving the plastic bag a jostle. He doesn’t need big answers now. “Can I sit down?”

You might not have a big answer to give, but your expression tells a story nonetheless. You wheel your seat backward and he pulls a spare chair toward your desk, your smile like an adornment as you push aside your things to make room. You smile so hard it changes your entire face.

“Do you have napkins?” you ask, not so subtly breathless as he places the bag down and pushes the plastic back.

He pulls out a wedge of them. You pinch them, and for a second the both of you hold them, your eyes meeting, your cheeks appled with matching smiles.

“I thought the orchid was for secretary’s day,” you say quietly, taking the napkins.

“You aren’t a secretary,” he says, holding out a plastic fork.

When you go to grab it, he moves it up out of the way. Your startled laugh is beautiful. Totally stunning. He hadn’t realised how badly he’d wanted the quiet intimacy of teasing you over lunch until he had it.

You grab the fork before he can move it again. “Too slow,” you say.

“Oh, you think so?” he asks.

“I know so, Aaron. Who has the fork?”

Aaron, he thinks. Finally, Aaron. “You have the fork, but I have your lunch. I’d tread carefully if I were you.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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ireneispunk · 8 months ago

Text

Duty

Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader smut

After a rough start to your marriage, whispers from the palace cause you and your betrothed to start what you should have done months ago; produce an heir.

w.c: 1487

c.w: SMUT 18+, NO use of Y/N, not exactly enemies but y'all beefing, hate sex (if you squint, but more like dislike sex and its more just sass idfk), mention of pregnancy, breeding kink, afab reader, p in v sex, fingering, overstimulation, pls let me know if i've missed any

a.n: so i recently watched the queen charlotte bridgerton spin off and i absolutely loved it, this is very inspired by charlotte and george's earlier dynamic tee hee.

Four months and 3 days. That is how long it has been since your wedding, and how long you have loathed your husband. The two of you were not exactly close before your betrothal on account of the rapidness of it but the tensions that spread between parts of his family did not help. You both seem to fight every conversation you had thereafter, so it became easier to avoid each other. That was until around 3 months into your betrothal that questions of when you would need your dresses altering had you worried. You were supposed to making heirs but you both exploded whilst in the same room as each other. You’d visited the prince in his separate room and communicated the issue, he was reading by the fire. You played with your fingers in your hands as he eyed the flaw, thinking intently. He placed his book face down on the table as he petted the bench beside him. You hesitated for a moment, before sitting next to him. “Once a week, we will fulfil our, uh, duty to try and produce an heir. Once you are with child we will stop.” You thought for a moment, before nodding. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. This was not what you had wished for in your marriage. Jacaerys was a painfully handsome man, dark curls that framed he chiselled features.

“It is the end of the week today, your grace.” You spoke, not fully considering the implications of the statement. But the quicker your belly was full the better.

He turned to you, hesitated for a moment before moving closer to you and pulled you onto his lap. You were surprised by the sudden closeness of someone, let alone your husband. He looked up from beneath you with a glimmer of what he had on your wedding night, without the naïve hope. His hands slid up from your hips to the bust of your dress, he looked into your eyes before giving the bodice of your dress a quick tug down allowing your breast to spill out. You gasped as his hands cupped over your breasts, massaging them before running a thumb over your nipple. You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a warmth spread over your body. You didn’t dare look him in the eye, keeping your eyes shut or trained on the ceiling. You felt as one hand left your breast and hike up your dress further up your hips. He sighed to himself slightly, at the sight of your exposed cunt. He could not believe his luck the first time he had saw you. You were quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and unfortunately that did not change the more you both disliked each other. If anything, it grew. Seeing you from across the room at formal engagements, gluing to his side when you needed to seem like the happy couple. It made the frustrations between the two of you even more palpable over the past few months, given the lack of relief. You opened your eyes to see his dark eyes looking up at you. He brought his two first fingers up to your lips, “Open.” His soft tone contradicted the demand and look upon his face. His fingers slid into your mouth, gliding across your tongue as you closed your lips around them. Out of sheer lust you grinded your hips against him, needing to feel some release and gaining small jolt at the feeling of your cunt rubbing against his clothed cock. His free hand shot to your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He removed his fingers from your mouth, admiring his spit covered fingers for a moment before they reached between your thighs and lightly grazed across your clit. You jolted, leaning forward to grip the bench behind him.

You could not stop the moan that escaped your mouth as his fingers slowly ran circles across your clit. He smirked as the noises that fell from your lips, knowing how much you couldn’t bare to be around him but fell apart in his arms was a satisfying feeling. “I did not know you were so needy, dear wife.” The honorific felt like a pin prick. Insincere and laced with sarcasm.

Despite the tightening growing in your stomach, you could not let him have the final word as usual. “You hadn’t been paying close enough attention, your grace.” A flash of frustration flashed upon his face as his hand moved to grip your hair and fingers plunged inside of you. A gasp left you as his fingers thrusted deep inside of your cunt, you had gone from strolling towards an orgasm to being thrown at it. The tips of his fingers curled slightly, deliciously massaging that spot inside your pussy that drove you wild. You jaw fell open, eyes going wide at the loss of contact when he removed his fingers from you. You went to protest before seeing his cock in his hands, brows furrowed as he stroked the length.

You couldn’t hold off any longer before you took a hold of his wrists and pushed his hands away to his sides. You took his cock into your hand giving it a few pumps, watching an expression of lust spread across his face. You leaned over slightly, letting a ball of spit leave your lips and watch as it slid down his cock. He hissed, returning his hands to your hips pulling you closer to him. You took the hint, angling his cock towards your pussy, rubbing the tip over your clit for your own pleasure a few times, before lining him up and sliding down slowly, a large groan left his lips as be bottomed out inside of you. You had forgotten just how big his cock was, and just how good it had felt filling you up. You began to raise your hips up and down, moans leaving your lips as you did. You worked at a steady pace but after being accustomed to his hands began to push up and down with the movements of your hips moving you faster. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as he pounded into you, no matter how much your stifled your moans, you gave him the satisfaction of them loudly leaving your lips. His hand reached up to yours, removing it from his shoulders and moving your fingers between your legs. You immediately got his instruction, fingers latching onto your clit. You worked tight circles into it as you got filled over and over with Jacaerys’ cock. A familiar tightness returned to your stomach as your head dropped back and numerous illicit words left your lips. Recognising your peak, he pulled you forward by your thighs, almost pressing your bodies against each other as he quickened his pace. Your orgasm cascaded over you, feeling your pussy tighten around Jacaerys’ cock and your body buzz from the overstimulation. You rode out your high atop of him, watching as his eyes screwed shut and his thrusts became sloppier.

You took the opportunity to return your knees to the bench either side of him and bob your hips up and down as fast as you could. His fingers reached the lip of the bench gripping it until his knuckles turned white. “Mmm, my grace,” You moaned out. His eyes shot open, his heart pounding at your remark. “Please fill me with your seed.” You pleaded and moaned, half doing it for a reaction, half because it felt too good. His jaw hung open in shock for a split second before he sputtered a moan from his lips, hips snapping into yours. You felt satisfied as a warmth filled your pussy. Your hips moved slightly, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you still. His hand shot to your hip, mumbling something, before you placed your hand flat across his chest. You bobbed a few more times on his cock, being sure to be as full as possible with his cum. You smirked to yourself seeing his head throne back, lip quivering, veins prominent in his hands gripping your waist, sweaty curls sticking to his neck. You slowly raised yourself off of his cock, standing to your feet and trying to mask your wobbliness as adjusting your dress.

You stole a glance his way, admiring his beauty before he spoke and ruined it. He panted through his mouth, arms outstretched over the sides of the bench. You smirked to yourself, admiring how he too had crumbled for you. The opening of his doorhandle caused him to call your name from behind you. You glanced at him and smiled. “Goodnight your grace, see you in seven eves’.” He opened his mouth to response, but you had already shut the door behind you. You hoped it would be sooner before he fucked you again.

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darnell-la · 4 months ago

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how about old!logan with the filthiest mouth one could ever speak, full with nasty and degrading pet names. just rough and mean logan treating the reader 🫠🫠

note: this takes place in the Honda Odyssey… we can make the man filthier by the way…

———

“Well, you guys are fucking stupid, so, it’s not a surprise we’re lost,” y/n crossed her arms in the back seat as Wade drove through the woods, trying to get to the place Nicepool had me roomed for them to form a team.

“You ain’t the smartest sheep either. Batting your fuckin’ eyelids at Jonny,” Logan scoffed next to her before leaning back in his to rest.

After Wade had told him that there might not be a way to save his world, he’s been in a bad mood. Ever since she met him, he’s been in a bad mood.

“Yeah, but sadly he’s not here with us, right Wade?” Y/n sarcastically asked, making Wade sigh loudly. “He should have said those things about her!” Wade shouted.

“This whole trip is fucking ridiculous. Like seriously, Wade. Why the fuck did you bring me along to save this drunk fuck!?” Y/n complained, making Logan chuckle.

“To save your shitty world,” Logan said under his breath. “Hey! That’s my world too!” Wade argued. “Yeah — That’s why I said that shit,”

“Not like yours is better,” y/n mumbled, making Logan snap his head towards her. Y/n continued looking out of the window, not caring how he felt about her words.

“The fuck you say?” The man asked in a clearly angry tone. “Alright, let’s just cool our dicks and think about a place to eat at after we get out of this shit hole, hm?” Wade asked the two, but they both ignored him.

“Nah, I wanna hear what the little bitch has to say,” Logan called the young lady out of her name, making her snap his own neck at him. “Bitch!? No wonder you could never keep a woman. In every universe!” She shot for his heart.

“That’s something you don’t have to worry about because Ian pickin’ a little brat like you,” Logan tried saying something back in an instant like her comment didn’t hurt. He knew calling her out of her name was shitty, but he’s going through it right now.

The man was pulled from his universe being told he had a chance to save it. Not even two hours later, he was told it was an educated wish.

“Not like you can get in my pants anyways limp dick,” y/n spat, making the man chuckle. He was cocky. He always has been, and his age wasn’t going to throw that away.

“You’re an easy little girl. You would even be able to handle me,” the man looked the girl up and down, giving a look that made her roll her eyes. “You fuckin’ wish,” she said before turning back to the window.

“Oh, honey bun, he does! Maybe y’all can fuck it out in here before we make it home. Got a long way to go,” Wade almost sang.

The two went silent, not declining or accepting. They were just angry, and Wade swore having a small fuck-session would help.

Y/n felt eyes on her through the silence. She told herself not to look back, but she had to. She wanted to see the man’s face, and god, was he fine. She hated admitting to it, but he was.

The way he looked at her legs, made her shift in her seat, growing nervous from the older man’s gaze.

“As I said — Little girl can’t handle it,” Logan finally looked up at the girl with a smirk, smelling the way she grew wet in seconds, and she didn’t know he could. She was clueless which made the situation funnier to him.

“I can handle more than you think. Your dick probably wouldn’t be able to stand up anyway, so stop lookin’ at me like that you perv,” y/n tried covering her legs, but there was no use.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” the man rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. “Do it yourself, coward,” y/n said under her breath. She thought she was quiet enough until his head snapped back at her and Wade gasped.

“Oh, you nasty little peanut,” Wade giggled. “Oh, you want me to fuck you?” Logan asked, giving that stupid smirk again. “What!? I never said that,” y/n lied, trying to think of something to stop this conversation.

“Oh, but you did, bub,” Logan felt like he was shifting closer, but y/n kept her eyes off of him. “Don’t go silent on me now, bub. If you need a little cock to fix that attitude, I can do it,”

The instant confidence he had, made the girl nervous. What the fuck is she going to do?

“Don’t need cock,” the girl spoke quietly. “I think you do,” the man’s hand was now on the grips thighs, gripping it a bit rough to get a reaction.

Y/n turned and swung, going to hit the man somewhere, but he got her fist and pushed it away before hovering over her body.

“You’re feisty for a girl who’s soaking wet,” the man said, confusing y/n. “You can smell her that bad!?” Wade asked, wanting to know if all. “Oh, yeah, and she smells sweet,” Logan admitted as his hands tugged on her belt.

“Let’s see if I’m right,” Logan ripped y/n’s belt off and shorts down her legs, exposing her pretty lace panties. “Logan! Fuckin’ get off!” Y/n fought back, but he knew she could do better.

“You sure? Kinda looks a little messy down here,” the man laughed at her girl as he spews her legs, seeing the dark spot grow. Before she could say another word, he ripped her panties off, making her yell at him more.

“Pretty little cunt. Maybe if you weren’t so bitchy, I’d eat it, but I have different plans for you today,” Logan wiped a finger across her lips before taking them to his mouth to suck.

“Yep — Sweeter than peach, Wade. Didn’t know you had sluts as friends,” Logan laughed again as he fumbled with his own belt. “Logan!” Y/n still shouted, kicking and slapping but he had his single hand pinning her shoulder down.

“Look on the bright side, peanut — You’ll get some dick and maybe that’ll energize you for our fight?” Wade said about anything to hide the fact he loved hearing Logan get the way he gets.

“Fuck you, Wade!” Y/n yelled at the man. “Nah uh, only I do that to you,” y/n almost forgot about Logan until she looked down, seeing his cock out in his head, stoking and leaking pre cum.

“Got me so fuckin’ hard. You know how good you look fighting? How pretty you are yappin’ that damn mouth? Could only think about you under me -- where you belong,”

Logan struggled but made his way in between her legs. “Fuck you! Fuck you, a-and Wade! You’ll last two seconds,” y/n tried laughing at the man to seem tough as usual, but he shut her right up with a hard thrust into her cunt.

“What was that? Two seconds? If I lasted a short time, it’s because this cunts so fuckin’ soaked, not because I’m old, baby,”

Y/n’s hands pushed at the man’s stomach, trying to slow him down and stop him from pushing hitting the right spot with each thrust he gave.

“S-Stop!” The girl whined already, feeling the knot in her stomach build and her breathing get spotty. He was huge and hard. Harder than she thought a man his age could be.

“Don’t think you want that, baby. No, you want me to fuck this pretty little girl till she cried and leaks on the seat,” Logan whispered in her ear as his own breath became heavy.

“God, you guys are hot. Love the play date you guys are having! Maybe give me a review after the Uber ride. Tell me if the seats felt comfy and if y’all had enough room to fuck like rabbits with rabies,” Wade seemed excited.

“Hear that, babe? Gonna tell Wade how good I fuck this pussy? C’mon, tell him. Tell him how hard your squeeze my cock,”

Y/n hated his cock voice in her ear but loved it at the same time. He knew exactly how she’d like it. Maybe by her attitude, he knew she needed someone with the same energy to pound her.

“No c-chance,” the girl stuttered through her teeth as she tried glaring at the man, but her head instantly fell back after he gave one small pound, telling her to get rid of the attitude.

“You’re gonna do it eventually. Sluts like you can’t forget a good cock,” and he was right. This was going to be the best sed she’s had ever.

“Gonna go beggin’ Wade to come get me to fuck you. Shit, since I have to stay in the bullshit you call your world, I’ll just come over to your place myself. Burry my cock in this cunt till you pass out,”

“L-Logan,” y/n dug her nails into the man’s shoulders, trying to hold tight as her orgasm felt near. “Oh, you like that? Like the thought of a dirty old man fuckin’ this so-called clean pussy, hm? Gonna let me breed this little princess whenever I want? Even if I piss you off?”

“N-No, you fucking suck at this!” Y/n breathed heavily, keeping her orgasm together so she wouldn’t give him what she wanted.

“God, she’s fuckin’ petty,” Wade said as Logan let out a little chuckle. The man shifted in the van, lifting her legs over his shoulders before punching his right claw into the roof of the van.

Y/n jumped, not used to having a mutant like him around. “Don’t worry, princess. I wouldn’t hurt a pretty girl like you. Too valuable and tight,” Logan grabbed between the back of y/n’s head and neck to lift her to, fixing her to lean into him.

“Before I fuck you ass dumb, do you want to take anything you said back?” Logan looked down at the girl whose legs rested on his shoulder and cock grazed her entrance, waiting to be squeezed again.

“You fuck like a dead pig,” y/n spat. Right after, the man took one good slam into her, watching her legs part and scream. Logan pulled her head back up, making her look into his dark eyes.

“Loudmouth for a loud screamer,” the man smirked before moving his hips, thrusting into the girl with all the strength he had. He pulled her back to life whenever she tried pushing away or leaning her head back.

“Good fuckin’ pussy — Fuck! — Maybe I’ll excuse that bitch tone of yours,” the man couldn’t deny his could she felt and sounded.

Before, y/n thought she could hold herself in, but she knew Logan would get what he wanted in this new angle and harder pounding. He knew this from the start.

“C’mon, bub — I know you wanna cum. Keep squeezing around me like I wouldn’t notice,” he laughed at her. Teasing he. “N-Not cumming,” y/n assured the man, but even Wade didn’t believe her.

“I can see how the man has you in a full-on butter-salted pretzel position. You’re cumming, peanut,” Wade said, only egging Logan on knowing anyone who looked at her right now could tell she was close.

“No, I’m not!” Y/n pathetically whined. Logan leaned down to the girl's face, slightly touching her lips as his hot breath burned her nostrils.

“Don’t cum then, bub,” Logan said as he picked up his pace. “Don’t cum, and you win. You win your little bitch fight, and we can move on with our day,” Logan kept increasing.

“Don’t cum, and you’re right about my limp old dick,” Logan now growled. “Don’t cum, and I won’t come into your little home and eat that pussy,” y/n eyes rolled back as his hands dug into the back of her neck.

“Don’t cum, and I won’t fuck you like this every day to satisfy your needs, baby. Don’t cum, and I’ll have to leave this pretty little body alone forever,”

“Can’t breed it. Can’t kiss it. Can’t pound it. Can’t do anything I want to it,” y/n whined loudly at the man’s words, finally releasing the man’s cock.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You need me. You fuckin’ want this old dick,” Logan’s lips crashed into her, kissing her roughly as she cried at the pace he kept ducking her in.

“Goddam, she cums a lot!” Wade said with excitement, loving the animal coming out of Logan. He knew y/n needed something like this in his life. That totally isn’t the reason why he brought her along.

“So fuckin’ good, baby. Best fuckin’ cunt I’ve fucked. So damn tight and sweet. Need you after all this. Needa have you with me forever,”

Y/n didn’t plan for this to happen. She doesn’t plan to let Logan fuck her like this in the back of Nicepools Honda Odyssey. She didn’t plan for Logan to form an attachment issue with her.

“Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill this girl up. Gonna keep you with me forever. Can’t leave. Don’t care how old I am, you belong with me. You’re made for me. Pussy’s molded to only take my cock,”

Logan’s hips bucked a few times before he pushed all the way into the young girl, spilling into her with a loud animalistic groan.

The top of the roof was ripped with how many times his claws punched in and out of it. Logan’s fingers bruised the back of y/n’s neck. Her lips even have a small scratch from the hard he kissed. She tastes so fucking good.

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nemesyaaa · 4 months ago

Text

pygmalion au // rafe cameron x reader

summary ; “ you love someone you can shape, who has no will to escape. ” artist!rafe x muse!reader.

warnings ; unsafe feelings. slight of angst. smut. kind of fantasy/magic. art glorification. attachment issues. innocent!reader. fear of losing somebody. first time. rafe being a lost boy. dubcon. pygmalion' weird story. toxic!rafe. mentions of drugs. oral (m. receiving). p in v. insecurities. praising. artist hands appreciation. minors DNI.

author's note : 3,5 k words for this. one-shot. also a lot of tummy appreciation (tysm @shawtycoreee 🫶🏿). out of the smut, i tried to write it so poetic 😭🤟🏿

— “ wrap me up, enfold me. i am small and needy. warm me up and breathe me. ” breathe me by sia.

it was alone and late at night that rafe cameron began to create you, not really knowing at the time he started his art what work you would produce. he only cut the stone with his hands. before forming your body, he fantasized about it internally, not really knowing what a woman's anatomy actually looked like. you were like a crazy dream he was trying to sort out, a fantasy he was trying to make real. he sculpted with his straight calloused and tired hands, manipulating the fragile and sensitive material with precision.

he hated doing badly, but it was what he did best. as he worked, he sank into his own fascination. you were magnificent, no, you were divine, the glorious treasure from his hands. it was scary and breathtaking. he had never done anything so beautiful, never created anything so charming. you had this firm, seductive chest, completely bare and hard, the movement of the stone making your belly round and chubby. you were carved in marble, an inanimate statue that had found favor in the eyes of his creator.

when he had finished your face,

he had been amazed but above all frightened by what his fingers had achieved. he had given shape to your lips, your nose, your mouth and your eyes. and now that you had a look, it was like you were confronting him. because now that you had pupils, you could look at him too, you could judge him too. you could be as superior as him, but also equal to his worth.

you were his most beautiful work of art, literally his ethereal and angelic muse. and above all, you made him nervous. not only were you realistic, but you were a woman, you were like one of the goddesses from greek mythology, completely naked.

it was unexpected, but he had knelt before you, before your altar, on his legs and his hands. he was so white and desperate like a lost sinner having only his god to pray and glorify in order to survive.

you had seen his lips part in a prayer, his mouth tighten in a whisper. and you had ears, certainly made of stone, but you had heard it. you had heard his wish lost in the void. yet he had nothing of a believer, you could hardly imagine this man on the benches of a church, but you were also cruelly incapable of seeing and understanding who he really was.

when he stood up, you felt his hands on your skin, the coldness of his ring, but also the awkwardness of his touch. you could tell it was the first time he touched someone intimately, because he didn't really know where to put his hands but he also didn't know how to touch you without destroying you.

rafe cameron was not a god. he could break anything he touched. and maybe that was why he was so nervous and pathetic. you belonged to him now that he had created you so he refused to lose you without even knowing you.

he had hoped that god would make you a real woman, because you were perfect, too sublime to be just a piece of stone.

he didn't need to pull himself up to reach you, he was much taller, more intimidating in terms of size. he could lift you up and control you with just one hand.

you looked so alive so why, why did he only hear one heartbeat in the room? why was he alone breathing in this cold and empty room? why did you only have life in appearance?

you could feel in his look that he was questioning, that he was troubled, that all the beauty of his blue eyes was overwhelmed. but you had also felt his face so close to yours, his breath fanning across your molded lips. he had been hesitant, but his mouth had finally found yours.

and you surprised yourself by loving the taste of his pretty lips, but above all by being able to touch it.

and it was like that kiss had been real enough of how he felt about you that god had decided to give him a chance.

you had sensed all the ivory of your body, of your muscles, becoming sublimely gorgeous, all your stone beauty becoming human and alive. as if his devotion had allowed you to be free and to exist.

when he felt your mouth melt on his, he pulled back in fear. you weren’t supposed to be real even if he wanted you to be. since when did statues come to life?

"oh fuck, what's going on here?... i think i'm going crazy...all that fucking coke…”

“you created me.” you replied, slightly hurt by his reaction because he was supposed to be happy.

"no, you're not supposed to be alive. i mean, you're art, you can't be human."

“i’m human!” you contradicted, stepping forward from your marble base.

rafe wasn't sure if it was a nightmare or a dream. but his gaze was anchored on you, he couldn't take every inch of his eyes off your body. he was magnetized by your magnificence.

you came just close enough to take his hand and place it against your chest. “don’t be cold to me. don’t leave me. what would i do without you? you can't reject me. you need me. ”

maybe that was the game changer for rafe cameron. because he had just understood that since you were his, you belonged to him, you were entirely dependent on him. you couldn't escape, and above all, you had no desire to.

he could do what he wanted, you were like a doll created to respond to the slightest of his favors without ever complacent. you were not only perfect but unimaginable.

” be on your knees for me.”

and the next second, you were staring at him waiting for another order.

"mmh...i know your body by heart. i shape all of this. but you have never seen mine. no worry, i'm going to fix that, okay? you're going to please me tonight and not make me regret 'have given you life?”

you nodded in agreement and he smiled because you were too innocent, too sweet for someone like him. he had unzipped his pants, making them fall to his legs like his boxers.

and it was the first time you saw a naked man in front of you, but it was also fair for you because you had no clothes. “let me help you…” he offered with a smirk. his thumb had rolled over your lips, creating a slight slit between them. “ you need to open that pretty mouth wider...” he added, taking advantage of your vulnerability to use you.

"you know it will only hurt if you don't relax. so don't be tense. because even if it's big, you're gonna take it, doll. not gonna be easy on you because it's your first time. show me what you can do baby, let me feel how grateful you are for your creator. "

he had pushed his tip against your lips, forcing his way into your mouth, making you open bigger to accommodate his cock in your cavity. it was new to you, and you weren't even sure if you could satisfy him because it was the first time you had done something like that, and especially used your mouth in that way.

you thought this area was used to create intimacy between people, not to do dirty things.

“baby, i really appreciate how sweet you can be, but don’t let me do all the work…” he had scoffed. and your heart skipped a beat when he shoved himself further in your mouth, so much so that you felt him hit the back of your throat, all the speed of his harshly strokes leaving you breathless.

you choked on his movements, saliva pooling and dripping between the corners of your enlarged lips. “that’s what happens when you don’t do your part of the job properly…” his tone was falsely accusatory as you couldn’t catch your breath from his pace. he had no pity, you had turned on him too much. and to fix it, he blamed you by harassing your throat with his fat cock.

"but since you leave me no choice, let me show you how to be a good girl for me..." he had plugged your nose, pinching it hard, forcing you to take him entirely, without being able to breathe. his length swallowed in and out, your tongue barely able to support his weight which grew as he bullied your lips.

you belonged to him so he didn’t care if he ruined you a little. he told himself that he would repair you.

he released your nose when he felt you were about to pass, with a sadistic giggle. your eyes were wet with tears. “oh baby, don’t give me that look, you’re wasting your time, i don’t feel pity. ”

you continued to pump him until your jaw arched tighten and become more tense. he pulled out for a moment, spitting in your tongue, before using your throat again. his grunts were frantic and rapid, hot breaths in sync with the pornographic sounds that emanated from your sucking. his large palm was wrapped around the back of your neck, controlling your posture. “ give me that sweet eyes again, and i will make them cry.”

he took so much pleasure in watching you swallow him hard, grunting every time he entered your throat hoping to relax it but causing the opposite effect. "'ot finished. take those balls too." he had pulled back to lift his painfully throbbing dick and place it against his stomach, you had started to lick them, letting your tongue work the entire surface, coating them with saliva. "feel? how full they are. they're gonna stuff you real bad. " you sucked on them when he pushed them directly into your mouth, making him let out throaty sounds. your mouth felt so good, he wondered if your pussy would be just as her.

between your legs, it was completely soaked. your sloppy slit dripping onto the floor. it wasn’t like rafe was ignoring that mess. he was just purely mesmerized by your lips, by the way you cupped his balls so well, and how his cock reacted to each of your licks.

you were definitely his best work. it was more than art, it was heavenly. he was incapable of not using you after creating you. he had his urges, and you had to respond to them.

he had started fisting his length, leaving you lapping at his genitals dangling above your face. the cum had gushed through the air, landing on you. he had rubbed his trailing tip on your cheeks, giving a new color to your skin.

he wondered if you were human enough to feel all this degradation. in a short movement, he had placed you in front of the standing mirror of the workshop, and had driven his body against yours. he spat into his hand before jerking off a little, pressing the head of his cock against your sticky dirty folds.

he placed his arm across your stomach, one hand gripping one of your breast, pressing it more firmly once lodged inside you and grunted as he felt how tight you were, how hard your pussy stretched in his path. thanks to the mirror, he could see each of your reactions, but above all, see your part pumped each of his inches. all his size had disappeared between your flowing walls.

your twitching cunt clenched around his girth, your canal squeezing him. his thrusts were merciless, burrowing into your soiled folds. rafe rocked his hips roughly, as his dick bullied your puffy core. he wondered how a loser like him could have created a goddess like you. and he was desperate to know if he could make you stupid, if his cock that destroyed and filled you was good enough for someone like you.

you had created a mess and frustration in him.

he was in love with the bouncing flesh on your tummy against his arm, your tits swaying when you took him. it was a grace.

he reached out and hit your spot every time he buried himself inside you, his face sank in your left shoulder. you could feel the strands of his hair against your skin, his mouth against your collarbone. you were his, he was fucking you like this. you were only alive when he touched you. you could feel his obsession and adoration in every thrusts, no matter how brutal they were. it was his way of showing you that you couldn't escape him and that you could never.

his rhythm was hard, as your pudgy tummy jiggled under his strong fingers who were digging into you. you were so giddy, fucked like a ragdoll not able to said if it was the butterflies that make your stomach spiraling, or that thick dick shoved inch by inch further into your messy slick. his other digits at your clit, massaging the small and eager bud. he was big enough to maneuver you and embraced your small frame with his muscular biceps.

you were too little, too fragile underneath him.

he was your creator, he gave you air but he could also take it away from you. you were completely dependent, not only you, but every crumb of your body. he was pounding into you with the inability to detach his cock from your fluffy pussy. he loved hearing your voice choked with tears and moans against his ear. it was a sweet melody, a symphony.

your body was perfect, straddling his, your skin slapping his. your lips gurgling around his fingers that you could no longer take without dropping them, because of his violent assaults. you drooled all over your mouth, struggling with the drool that splashed all over his hand.

you couldn't see anything anymore, it was blurry. you didn't even feel tired anymore, you felt like a stupid doll, unable to think and reflect, only able to take this cock nastily harassing you and stretching you violently.

with his muscular and heavy hand on your throat, he forced you to look at the mirror. there was something incredible and perfect in his hands, and you knew it from the moment he started sculpting you. they were so good and incredible, covered with veins that systematically bulged. they captured your belly fat well. “don’t hide this from me. it’s my property.”

he had harpooned your flesh between his fingers, making it move and hang down more as he fucked you senseless.

“if i shaped you like that, that meant i wanted you like that.” your tummy was caged in his grasp. “ i mean, look at that belly, it's all beauty, i swear.”

he had moved his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing that area of your skin, feeling his bulge farther in you. in this corner of the room, there was only you and him, only your whimpers against his fingers and the pleasure you felt. there was only this mirror that stared at you and reflected you in the darkness with the only light of the moon as a beacon.

you were divine, you had the perfect body of a goddess. and even having cum with you, even causing your third orgasm, he didn't want to pull out. it was as if he was afraid of the emptiness he expected after this. and maybe you too were dreading the emptiness inside you after he filled you up so well, your soaked pussy dripping with his cum, drooling all over the floor.

he had finally taken it out, his fingers entering you to collect his mixture and place it against your lips. “don’t let it go to waste.”

you had cleaned his fingers until they were pure again.

he had his eyes on you, like a human in front of art.

he still didn't realize. but he refused to let you escape. but it wasn't like you could. he had created a home here, all over this room and in you. he had established a domain in every inch of your skin. he only had to see you to know that you were his own creation.

you kissed him, slightly awkwardly but he made up for it with his mouth on yours. “you can’t abandon me.” he whispered. “i don’t want to abandon you.”

and it felt good to hear your words. you didn't know him well enough, or not really, to know how sick he was. but you felt grateful that he gave you life, because it was priceless. he had made you, and you were his.

“ what are you doing?” when you felt chains encircling your wrists, you weren’t sure if you liked it. "i really want to believe in you sweetheart but i also can't trust anyone. you have legs, you can run away from me but with this metal, you're stuck.”

“i don’t really like it…” you admitted and he replied “no one likes it but the difference is that you don’t really have a choice either. you're mine. your feelings, your body, your eyes, all of that is mine. even that pouty sweet face of yours. ”

you turned your head to let him know that you didn't appreciate it, and to give him the silent treatment. and he smiled. “it doesn't kill me, baby. you can pout. ”

you didn’t respond. "you really want to give me this treatment? maybe you really don't want me to be nice to you after all..."

he had smiled. “"okay...I'll give you what you want." he had disappeared for a few minutes before coming back with an object that you couldn't identify. " what is this ? "

"now, baby wants to talk...but it's a little too late, i'm making the rules here so...say hello to your new favorite toy. it's a gagball.”

you didn't feel it was useful until the ball went into your mouth and stopped you from speaking. you could only drool and grumble around the object.

"why that face, baby? that's not what you wanted? i swear you still look pretty. just quieter. i'm going to go to sleep. and tomorrow you'll show me how sorry you are for that attitude. you want to know if i would forgive you? maybe it would be too easy, you understand? you have all night to prepare excuses and they better please me because i can be even more creative than that to punish you. “

the next day he woke up in a good mood. and above all, you were always there.

he had picked up the bottle of water from his table, wondering if you were thirsty. but when he arrived in front of you, he changed his mind. he used it to wake you up.

"i'm so clumsy...sorry, baby." but there wasn't an ounce of regret in his voice so you knew he was joking. you learned to read his face.

“you know how sorry i am…” he added, facing your gaze.

“you’re not…”

"yes, right. such a clever baby. are you thirsty?”

" yes..."

“maybe if you show me how good and nice you are today, i can consider bringing you another bottle.”

"what do you want..."

“it’s not what i want, sweetheart. but what you will do to satisfy me. see the small difference ? ”

it had been several weeks, a month in fact, since the day of your creation. you had spent your time in this workshop, chained to this wall. you were only alone when rafe left, when he left you in the shadows.

in fact, he was clearly having fun with you. you were dependent on his affection, and he knew it. you reacted to the slightest attention he gave you, even the most mean and bad. but above all you were incapable of hating rafe cameron.

he had made you a magnificent creature, a living human, you would be even crueler than him if you hated him.

after all, you were his muse. he had the right to use you. that was also the thought he had drilled into your brain.

everything he did was for you. and you should be grateful.

but sometimes he wondered, if he killed you, would you come back to life? was there magic in you or was he just in a fucking wonderful dream? he did enough coke to get high for days but this time it lasted too long for it to be fake.

your relationship was strange because sometimes you felt loved, especially when he hugged you after being rough with you, his palm gently caressing your back. like any human, there was tenderness in him. he could be nice. he knew how to be one but that didn't mean he enjoyed being one. he just thought that if he was too mean, you would disappear.

and that was not something he could tolerate. during all this time spent with you, he had not learned, no, he had not succeeded, to live without you.

artists brought art to life, but art gave meaning to the artists' lives.

before you, he was alone.

he had prayed for you. he needed you. it was his final call.

rafe cameron fell in love with you before he created you, before he even imagined you.

and maybe that was why he was so mean to you, because he never knew love, so how can you blame him for not knowing if you loved him back or make fun of him?

he was pathetic, full of rage and violence. but you couldn't hate him, because you and him shared the same tears. the same pain.

he made you, and you made him. he was afraid and you were scared. you wanted someone to love you, and he wanted someone that could love him.

“ i swear, y/n. don't leave me alone. even when you looked away, you make me feel like a monster when i'm not. so please, do the same as me. ”

“ what ? ”

“ don't make me feel like somebody else exists. i'm the only world you can live in. ”

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