#maybe I’m just obsessed w all the covers ////
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It's so interesting that Mats Minnhagen is your favorite artist for Nevermoor. I always love seeing what cover artists people love the most! I'm a huge fan of mamefuk's stuff for the Japanese covers and am miserable that it seems we will never get Hollowpox and beyond 🥲. I'm also a fan of the Thai and Vietnamese covers as well... and the Ukranian covers have a fun, unique vibe to them too. Deeply excited to see all the different covers for Silverborn..... ‼️
mamefuk’s and the vietnamese covers are definitely close seconds! I love them so so much, they look so warm and cozy. I wish I could read either language just so I could have an excuse to buy those versions and have the art in my hands lol. The ukrainian cover is really cool too…I’m actually obsessed with the colors+character design on it ahh <33
#nevermoor#every once in a while I remember mamefuk has a blog here and I get to fawn over their art all over again 🩷🩷#I couldn’t figure out who the artist for the vietnamese cover was which is kind of killing me lol#maybe tmmr I’ll have clearer eyes#also I think the german one has mog with the curly hair right? bc that one is really cool too 😭#maybe I’m just obsessed w all the covers ////
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KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR ─── jonathan crane ✧♤
ೃ⁀➷ “Finally, a sin worth hurting for, a fervor, a sweet--you are mine.” — ‘Postcolonial Love Poem’, Natalie Diaz.
pairing. yandere!jonathan crane x reader
summary. a few months ago, you found out about your close friend’s… habit, of “cleaning up” creeps who hung around you. you use this to your advantage, but can you deal with the repercussions when your words backfire?
warnings. swearing, stalking, jonathan being creepy & delusional, manipulative but naive reader, mention of murder, p in v, creampie, breeding kink/forced breeding/babytrapping, unprotected sex, mild somno, oral sex (f), panty kink, forced cockwarming, drugging, heavy dubcon/noncon, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!
word count. 6.1k
a/n. this is definitely the darkest thing ive ever written. pls read w caution everyone!!! this is also inspired by these headcanons by @babybluebex and this alphabet by @scorpiussage !!
i.
You covered your face with your palms, sniffling. “Maybe I’m just being overdramatic. I was always too nice to him, y’know? Maybe I did lead him on.”
Jonathan’s head snapped to you, swiftly stepping toward the couch and kneeling down in front of you. “No, no, that’s what he wants you to think. You did nothing wrong,” he assured, pulling your hands away from your face and wiping a sneaky, non-existent tear from the corner of your eye.
You pouted at Jonathan, big doe eyes glistening with grief. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow… and everyday after that,” you lamented, “because it’ll be so - upsetting, seeing him.”
Jonathan’s large hands clasped around your own, delicate and warm. “Does it scare you? Him being there?” he murmured softly, peering deeply into you with an indecipherable look.
You nodded pitifully, looking down at his hands wrapped in yours so your hair would fall in front of your face, hopefully shielding the glee sparkling in your eyes. Thank god Jonathan had taken the bait -- it was only a matter of time before your dear, obsessive friend would get rid of your competitor for you.
It was late evening, and you’d called Jonathan, pretending to rant about a coworker who confessed and got slightly violent at the fact you did not reciprocate his feelings. In truth, none of that had happened at all— said coworker was vying for the same promotion opportunity as you were, and it was just your luck that a few months ago you discovered your sweet friend from college had made it a habit to “clean up” any creeps and freaks hanging around you.
What kind of ambitious career-woman would you be if you didn’t take advantage of that, huh? So there you were, crying on the phone so devastatingly that Jonathan would have no choice but to come over, comfort you, and later, be your knight in shining armor and kill, kidnap or maim your coworker.
You didn’t think it immoral to do so, y’know, even though it clearly was. To you, it was just… indulging his little hero-fantasy, while also making your life just that much easier. It made you happy, and it made Jonathan happy.
It was all harmless (to you, anyway), because you knew how reserved Jonathan was… how logical he was. You were positive he’d never cross that line, go too far; stray out of the shadows with that possibility of losing you still hanging over him like a cloud.
You wrapped your arms around Jonathan’s thin neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you for coming tonight,” you murmured, your lips ghosting the shell of his ear. He shuddered under your touch, and you knew you had him whipped; probably already so deep within a plan to kill your coworker nothing could stop him.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said, pulling away and letting his hand come up to the hand-print sized bruises on your shoulder. “I can’t believe that - that monster hurt you.” Jonathan shook his head aghast, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes moved from your bruised shoulder to the strap of your lacy bra, trailing down your breasts before snapping back up to your face.
Your coworker hadn’t actually hurt you, obviously, but you had asked him to knead out a knot in your shoulder at lunch, and made him pinch harder ‘till you knew it would bruise. You’d known him for a couple of years now, coming from the same training batch, and had been involved in plenty of tit-for-tat exchanges, “scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” type of deals.
So you were close enough to be comfortable massaging the other-- but you’d be fucking damned if he got the promotion and you didn’t.
“It’s not that bad,” you murmured, ducking your head like you were ashamed.
“You don’t need to downplay it -- least of all to me,” Jonathan tutted softly, two fingers tilting your chin up to meet his gaze again.
You pressed your lips into a thin line, brows knitting. “I know, I’m sorry, I just…” you blinked rapidly, as if you were trying to do away with on-coming tears, “I thought you wouldn’t believe me. He said… he said that nobody would believe me.”
And just like that, it was like a shadow had passed over him. Jonathan’s expression contorted almost frighteningly quickly, and gone were the delicate, comforting sweetness of his sharp features; thus came the darkened eyes, clenched jaw, frown digging into his cheeks.
“…He said that?” Jonathan whispered, voice low, barely containing the rage seeping into his words.
“He said that - he could do… do whatever he wanted to me, and I’d never convince a soul.” You confided, letting your face get weepy, tear tracks running along the curve of your cheeks.
At that, you suddenly pulled Jonathan close to you, pressing your face to his chest and making anguished cries leave your throat. His hands shakily came up to pet your hair, and you could hear his heartbeat; skipping beats and growing faster the longer you clutched onto him.
“I believe you,” Jonathan insisted, and went from petting you to holding you so tight you could barely breathe, “I believe you.”
ii.
You never saw your coworker again. He’d sent in a notice of “vacation” that nobody could really object to… considering he also informed your boss he’d already gone, and was sending said notice from his hotel.
Sure, that was incredibly suspicious anywhere else, but that’s the thing— you weren’t “anywhere else”, you were in Gotham. If your coworker had actually gone on a split-second vacation, nobody would blame him; everyone you knew who lived in Gotham had snapped, at least once, and had to get away. Most temporarily, some permanently -- in which, chalking his fate up to Jonathan, your coworker was definitely the latter.
Honestly, you weren’t very surprised when you found out Jonathan was, for lack of better word, murdering people. Specifically, people he deemed a “threat” to you.
Jonathan had always been… a touch too overprotective. Territorial, even. It was far subtler in college, but you supposed that was because you’d seen him everyday; with both of you trekking through your hellish career aspirations, you couldn’t see each other as often as you had back in school. It was like that saying-- absence makes the heart grow fonder.
You’d first met Jonathan in GSU’s large community library, after you dropped a book on his head. You were on one side of the bookshelf, he on the other, and you were trying to grab a book on a too-tall ledge. Instead of getting your measly grip on it, it went backwards and smacked Jonathan right in the rimless frames. It was a meet-cute, sort of, with you apologizing profusely, him brushing your worries off with that irritatingly charming smile of his, and then helping you with any books you needed (a clear advantage of his height) for the rest of the day.
From there you became close friends. He always knew the right things to say, had various fascinating interests (half of them coinciding with your own), and was always, without fail nor doubt, an absolute darling. He never poked or prodded into information you didn’t want to tell him (at least not yet), constantly staying polite, respectful, eloquent, and patient.
You knew now why and how your relationship had escalated like so: you suspected he’d been one of those “creeps” hanging around you, long before the library incident in your early college days. You first began adoring him for the most part because it felt like he understood you perfectly, unknowingly adhering to all your creature habits, liking all your hobbies, and knowing every word that could make you let your guard down like you’d been friends for years. It all made sense now-- he’d collected said information just from watching you for so long.
Thus the “meet cute, sort of”; Jonathan had probably been planning the moment for months. Polite, respectful, eloquent, patient.
Why you? Well, you didn’t know either. Getting psychological about this, you probably reminded him of a relative he adored - some Freudian aspect coming into play, y’know? But it all boiled down to one constant fact: he was obsessed with you.
It should’ve scared you, and it probably would’ve, back in college, but it didn’t now. His type was a dime a dozen, incredibly hard to come by; the kind of guy who you know you can trust, rely on, know without a doubt he will never leave.
Even if you and Jonathan were just friends, you suspected in his sweet, beautiful, sick and twisted mind he’d long since considered you his — and, similarly, since finding out his secret, you began thinking of him as yours. Perhaps not yours romantically, but more like you owned him. He was the ever-present lucky charm in your pocket, the one who reminded you that you’d been loved before so you’ll be loved again, your constant support.
“How’re you feeling?” Jonathan’s worried voice crackled out of your beat-up phone, startling you back to reality. You were hiding in your car while on break, not keen on talking to any of your coworkers or bosses in the cafeteria, when you’d gotten a call from him.
“A lot better, actually.” You said, taking a bite of your lunch and trying to sound relieved rather than giddy. “…He went on vacation.”
Jonathan hummed on the other end of the line. You could hear the grin in his tone, but he quickly coughed, smoothing out the cheerful jitters in his voice. “Really? That’s rather… well-timed.”
You shrugged, as if Jonathan could see you, “Whether it’s about me, or not, I’m just… glad I don’t have to see him.”
“Know that I agree wholeheartedly– the thought of him being near you made my stomach turn.” He let out a sigh, like his nerves were finally relaxing, “How about you come over tonight? I can make us a nice dinner, you can stay over if you want-- I regret leaving you alone last night… you were terrified.”
You bit your lip. When it came to Jonathan actually getting, well, romantic, you hesitated. Did he really want you, or was it his obsession kicking in? You knew he loved who he thought you were: a frail girl he needed to protect, not knowing you’d been using him to your heart's content since you found out his dirty little secret.
You were running out of fingers on your hands to count how many people you’d directed him to… clean up. First it was little targets, like the barista at your usual coffee place who’d flirt and always take too long making your drink, causing several lates at work. More recently it was the landlord of your apartment, who’d raised the rent three times in one month; after she died, the ownership went to her absent-minded son who reset the prices to the original, more-than-comfortable regular rate.
But… you supposed you could humor him. A reward of some sorts; an unknowing treat to your obedient, sweetheart guard dog. “I’ll stop by, then,” you responded delicately. “I… didn't want you to leave either, Jon,” you murmured, before quickly hanging up.
Later, after work, you’re driving to Jonathan’s with a bottle of white wine. You did these kinds of things for eachother -- little gifts, you mean -- often. Yesterday, he visited your flat with pastries from a bakery you liked all the way down in Old Gotham.
“Chardonnay,” Jonathan commented when you arrived, ushering you through the front door with a squeeze to the thigh and gently inspecting the bottle. “You know me so well.”
“Dare I say the best,” you grinned, pressing a friendly peck to his cheek and handing him your evening coat before traversing into his house’s large kitchen, swiping a finger-dip into the various dishes he had laid out in the middle of cooking.
“At least don’t touch dessert,” he pouted, quickly hanging your coat in his entry closet and trailing behind you. But his expression still cracked into a loving smile when he saw you sneak your pinkie-finger into a chocolate custard.
“Okay, okay, I’ll be patient,” you backed off with a cheeky smile, arms up in the air and opting to hoist yourself on an empty counter and watch him resume cooking.
“How thoughtful of you,” he responded sarcastically.
It didn’t take him long at all to finish up, and your eyes were trained on his sinewy figure the whole way through; the careful way he cooked, the absolute attention to every detail.
Sure, you could say that was because Jonathan was a detail-oriented person (because he was), but you also knew it was because he was nervous, fumbling to impress you-- you noticed these kinds of things a whole lot more after finding out. Like how he gave you his coat when you went out together late at night and it was cold, how he often kept you close with a hand to the small of your back, how intently he listened to your every word, like it was the last thing he’d ever hear.
“Like what you see?” Jonathan joked when he was done, urging you to sit down across from him and handing you the chardonnay poured in one of his wine glasses.
“M’just admiring your cooking skills,” you explained sweetly, taking the glass and sipping it mildly.
Jonathan’s eyes crinkled, lips curling into a sheepish smile. He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to: he radiated delight. You swore you could see pink dusting his high cheekbones, a feverish blush burning from his ears to his pale neck.
From there, dinner went on with some friendly chatter, his skillful dishes, and several more glasses of chardonnay. Nothing ever got old with Jonathan-- he listened well and he spoke gently and he revered your every word; you felt important just by being near him, he was so devoted.
By the end of the night, however, you were feeling rather light-headed- veering on the edge of unconsciousness: “I think I’ll - take you up on that offer, Jon…” you murmured, trailing off and getting up from your seat. It was odd, surely, how quickly a mere white wine had gotten you drunk, but then again you’d been housing a nearly-full glass every few minutes. You lost your drink count ages ago.
Jonathan, ever the gentleman, stopped tidying up immediately. “Good judgment,” he nodded agreeably, coming to your aid and picking you up bridal style. Your head swam at the sudden movement, his feet swiftly heading down the hallway, but his gentle voice quickly aided the dizziness: “Don’t force yourself and don’t worry, just sleep…”
“M’sorry,” you whispered, holding him tightly by the lapel, more words on the tip of your tongue, but he just shushed you, “didn’t help.”
“That’s quite alright, my love,” he replied lowly, entering his bedroom. He pressed an uncharacteristic kiss to your forehead and let you down onto his cushy mattress, watching how quickly your eyes dropped. You were certainly feeling the effects of the glass he laced now-- and then you were out.
Jonathan needed to have you now, under his protection, and he’d achieve that through any means necessary, be it liquid melatonin or anything else…
“You’ll have plenty of time to help later. You’re home now.”
iii.
“Sorry about… last night,” you said the next morning when you got up, rubbing your eyes sleepily and padding into Jonathan’s kitchen.
You found him leaning against his marble countertops, gently sipping down a mug of black coffee within his calloused grip, and he raised a brow amusedly. “You said the same thing in your sleep.”
Your gaze darted away from his own at the sudden embarrasssment. “Nonetheless… thanks, Jon. I’ll be out of your hair immediately-- I’m actually rather late for work. I kept a dress here last time, right?”
He set down his mug with a dull clink, and in your rambling, he’d made his way right in front of you. “No need,” he murmured, to which you tilted your head in confusion.
“I already called in for you. You’re not going to work today.” He explained, a thin smile coming up to his face, eyes gleaming.
You laughed awkwardly, suddenly feeling trapped at the way he took slow steps forward, making you backtrack into the wall. “What are -- Jonathan, what are you talking about?”
“I can’t, in good conscience, let you leave.” Jonathan insisted with a nod, expression knitted in a way you knew he thought he was doing the right thing.
‘“Let me’ leave? Is- is this a joke? Because it’s… it’s not a funny one,” you stuttered, heart beginning to hammer in your chest at the way he looked down at you. It was like he was watching a wounded animal-- in a way, you felt like it… and Jonathan was clearly your predator.
“It’s not a joke, dear. Gotham’s gotten too dangerous for you,” he informed you softly, hands coming up to hold your face lovingly. His steps stopped, and you felt it: he’d finally pinned you against the wall, and there was no escape. “That coworker of yours was the last straw. My heart aches at the thought of what he could’ve done to you.”
“I - that wasn’t…” You trailed off, cringing at the way he leaned in further, his hot breath fanning on your cheeks -- how helpless you were against his advances.
You knew something was going to happen when Jonathan couldn’t just stay on the sidelines anymore, but you didn’t think it’d happen like this. You thought it might end with him professing his love to you, pleading and begging you to indulge him fully. That he’d fume and sob at rejection… that he’d let you go.
But Jonathan was like a ticking time bomb: with every victim you gave him, moments were ticked off his clock. It seemed that your coworker was the last second… and that he’d had enough of his frail darling being surrounded left and right by threats to take care of. He knew it’d all be so much easier if he could keep you safe in one spot, a place only he could enter.
“That wasn’t what? My god, I knew I couldn’t leave you all alone like that anymore… you’re too sweet, too innocent to know what’s gone too far,” he shook his head pityingly, unaware how hypocritical his words were.
“Jonathan,” you looked up at him, breath catching at the way his fingers dug into your neck, “what are -- what are you going to do to me?”
He let out a sharp laugh, “Do to you? Oh… no, my love, I won’t be doing anything to you… no, I’ll be keeping you safe.”
“Safe?” you repeated incredulously, “but what about - my life? My friends? My family? My job?”
He shushed you, not unlike he had done just the other night, or the night before that, “You don’t need to worry about any of those trivial things anymore. You have me. I’ll give you anything -- no, everything you want.”
Your lips parted and closed, unable to come up with a response that may cause him to realize the sheer insanity of what he was saying. He’d gone too far… had slipped too deep into the infatuation while you weren’t looking.
Then, Jonathan wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pressing your face into the crook of his neck and immediately invading your nostrils with the scent of his cologne. It had been nice, once, but now it sickened you: how quickly that scent made your head swirl and your stomach clench… how quickly Jonathan had went from a darling pet of yours to a terror of unimaginable size.
Fuck, you thought, fuck, you’d been playing with fire this whole time-- you had been playing with fire while being naive and underestimating and wholly stupid.
You’d completely underestimated the depth of his commitment; how Jonathan was the kind of man who loved one and only one, and that there was no letting go with him. That once he had his claws in your skin, there was nothing that could stop him.
But then, you remembered your thoughts from just two days prior-- you had him whipped. It was like a lightbulb went off; you knew you could use that, use his mindless, adoring obsession to you…
“Jonathan,” you murmured under your breath, too quiet for him to hear as he hummed lovingly above you. “Jonathan,” you repeated, louder this time, pushing him away and startling him.
He blinked rapidly, fixing his glasses that had gone askew in your sudden movement. “What is it, my love?”
“You -- you love me, do you not?” you asked, swallowing the cowardly dryness in your throat.
Jonathan nodded vehemently, inching closer, desperate to have you in his arms again. “Nothing in the world could compete with my love for you. Nothing.”
You exhaled shakily, putting your hands out in a poor way of creating more distance between you two. “I - I love you, too. I love you.”
You saw Jonathan’s face light up at your sudden confession, saw how his demeanor changed from hesitant to beaming. “You love me?”
“Yes, yes, I do,” you insisted, panting as beads of sweat rolled down your back, “and I’m telling you… I won’t anymore, not if you keep me here. If you truly love me, you won’t trap me here.”
“It’s because I love you that I plan to keep you here,” he frowned, before grabbing you by the extended wrist, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you in a deathgrip.
“But you love me,” he repeated in amazement, pressing rough kisses along the side of your neck that had you whimpering, “so you’ll understand. God, how I’ve longed to hear those words leave your mouth.”
Jonathan had gotten tunnel vision at this point, barely registering your pleas, and when he began pawing at your clothes, apparently in some kind of delusion that your “confession” was a lustful one… you jumped ship.
He thought your confession meant he had permission to have a taste of you, and while it made your knees buckle and your throat burn, if it meant he might finally fucking listen, let you convince him to let you leave… so fucking be it.
The two of you then stumbled back down his hallway to the bedroom, tugging at each other’s garments while pressing hungry kisses on one another. You played along dutifully, trailing your hands along his back while tugging off his jacket, and other articles of clothing.
Entering the bedroom at last, Jonathan gently pushed you down onto the springy bed, having long since undone you-- you were left in your lacy underwear from the night before: black bra, black stockings, lacy thong hidden beneath it.
You wore thongs because they didn’t leave any panty lines under your thin pencil skirts, but you were quickly regretting the choice when Jonathan crawled onto the bed and roughly tugged down your stockings, surely leaving holes and runs in them, and let out a lecherous groan at the sight.
“God, I love your body,” he purred, hands hungrily groping your thighs and throwing your ruined stockings off to the side. “Can’t believe how long I waited for this.”
You closed your legs on instinct shyly, but he just as quickly pried your legs apart, leaning in and pressing sweet kisses along the soft flesh. “Jonathan…” you whimpered, trying to act needy, like you wanted him so bad-- in reality, you wanted to get this over with.
You reckoned if you let him fuck you, get him pussywhipped, you could promise you’d adore him wholeheartedly if he just fucking let you leave his house. You couldn’t deny how his ministrations made you feel, though; his plush lips brushing along your clothed cunt made tingles run up your spine, made your heart beat in a way that was anticipatory rather than terrified.
“Let me take care of you,” he promised, slipping off your panties and leaving your lips bare. You would’ve hissed at the cold, but the noise died in your throat as you saw Jonathan ball up the lace and press it to his face, inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” Jonathan groaned, and you almost gagged. “Wonder how good you’ll taste…” With that, he pressed his face between your legs and began lapping up your wetness, and you felt a gleeful smile tug at his face.
You gasped at the sudden action, bucking up into him on instinct. Your cheeks burned with shame, but you still choked on an unwarranted mewl when Jonathan’s tongue slipped inside your sticky hole and felt along your velvet walls.
He couldn’t exactly speak, with his mouth trained artfully on your cunt, but he let out an unintelligible noise of approval. All of this made you nauseous, your insides twisting in disgust, but your body reacted the opposite, pussy pulsing and clenching around him.
It was just -- fucking criminal how skillful he was with that long tongue of his, licking long stripes up and down, suckling on your clit, searching for the spongy spot in your cunt that he knew he couldn’t find without his cock, but wanted to make you squirm anyway.
You felt that familiar pressure building within you, his tongue going down on you faster, making shameful squelching noises echo around the room. He was hitting every pressure point, something you hadn’t felt in… well, honestly, you weren’t sure you’d been eaten out like this ever…
The thought you were enjoying this, that he might actually make you come made you queasy, and your hands tangled through his locks, pulling him away. “Want - want your… your cock,” you panted, shaking your head when he tried to bury himself in your sex again.
Jonathan frowned, going from all fours to sitting on the backs of his heels. “Baby…” he said, hesitant. You knew he wanted to take his time, worship you, treat you lovingly, but you were getting confused… losing yourself to the pleasure, forgetting you were doing this to stop him from holding you captive, not because you actually wanted it.
You pouted, and, to prove your point further, you pressed one of your feet onto his extremely noticeable bulge, fondling it softly. He nearly doubled over at the much needed friction to his neglected cock, and then Jonathan finally let go of all his inhibitions, giving into his primal needs.
He quickly undid his belt buckle and fly, slipping out of his suit trousers. Your heart sank at the reveal of his size; the imprint of his cock looked extremely intimidating, and that was beneath his boxer shorts.
It seemed your thoughts showed on your face, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, leaving an embarrassing amount of your wetness on the skin. “It’s okay, my love,” he reassured, “your pretty pussy can take me.”
You nodded hesitantly, your teeth capturing your bottom lip and nipping at it nervously as you watched him completely undress… his cock wasn’t very thick, but boy, was it long, coloured a delicate pink hue that was pretty and aching, but you knew he wouldn’t be using it delicately at all.
The way he looked at you, almost feral, eyes dragging over every curve and practically melting at how your hole gaped for him had you wanting to cover up, run away-- but you held still and forced yourself to brave through it.
You only need to do this once, you repeat mentally, only once, and you can convince him to let you go.
Jonathan didn’t waste any time touching himself or anything like that, he merely crawled atop of you and slotted himself between your shuddering lips. “So wet,” he grunted, slowly pushing his cockhead in.
Despite his words, and the terrifyingly glaring feeling of your wetness, you still winced at the stretch; your back arched at the intrusion, your arms wrapping around his neck and digging your fingernails into his back just from the pain of his tip at your entrance.
He slid the rest of the way in jiltedly, and you let out a pained gasp, then a helpless whimper, and finally, his name, your voice weak and raspy as he laid his weight on your torso, panting at how you soaked him. His unruly length was going deeper than you thought possible, and your mind went fuzzy with fear at how it’d feel when he actually started thrusting in and out. You could only pray he didn’t break you.
“You did it, dear,” Jonathan announced proudly, pressing a kiss to your lips this time. You shuddered at the intimate gesture, but he didn’t seem to notice, and slowly pulled out, before slamming back in.
You swore you saw stars, tears welling in your eyes at the rough action, and Jonathan placed his hands on your hips to soothe you by rubbing circles into the skin. “Full,” you choked out simply.
Apparently, he thought that was praise, and he repeated the action, falling into a steady rhythm of slow but brutal thrusts. It had you gasping for air each time, the sting in your lower-half almost unbearable, but you suddenly felt yourself falling into a morally muddled, puzzling state of mind: he was practically torturing you with his length, but he was also whispering sweet nothings in your ear, gently massaging your rear.
“You’re so -- fuck, thats a tight pussy -- beautiful,” he’d murmur, hanging his head low into the dip of your collarbone, “so beautiful.”
But, as you had to keep reminding yourself, you didn’t want this-- this was just the only way you’d escape. You didn’t want to be fucked by him, and most of all, you didn’t want him.
That train of thought was thrown out the window, however, when Jonathan’s hands suddenly hooked under your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist. You were pulled further beneath him, and his cock went even deeper, punching up against the spongy spot in your pussy.
You moaned; feverish, loud, wanton, and Jonathan drank it in fiendishly. From there, he knew where to thrust, pounding in and out of your cunt and hitting that spot everytime. The pain fell away into a sickly pleasure, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at how deliciously he was fucking you.
“Jonathan!” You mewled, digging your heels into the small of his back. He was relentless, ruthlessly rutting his hips into yours and gripping your thighs so tight there’d be hand-shape sized bruises littering your body later.
“You like that, darling?” he groaned proudly, pushing your hips further down his cock. “God, you love it, don’t you? I can feel you squeezing me…”
Your fucked out mind couldn’t discern between your lustful thoughts and your logical ones; you couldn’t help how you nodded, how you pleaded for more, despite the terror swimming in your gut -- despite how the sober part of yourself weeped.
Then, it was like a tight rubber band around your stomach snapped; the pleasure that had been building in your gut burst, sending electric shocks of ecstasy running through your entire body. You saw white for a moment, your toes curling along his back as your thighs shook, your moan coming out terribly loud and sounding every bit his name. You didn’t mean to, of course, not again, but your mind filled in the gaps: Jonathan was fucking you, so Jonathan deserved the praise.
“Fuck!” Jonathan growled, “You came so hard… all because of this cock, all because of me.” Then, he began slamming his cock into your quivering hole quicker, desperately chasing his orgasm.
It was only then in your foggy, post-high mind did you realize he’d never used a condom… you weren’t on anything, you hadn’t been for years, and the way Jonathan was fucking into you gave no indication he was stopping. The thought of him coming inside made your blood run cold; there’d be no escape, you’d be fucking finished—
“Jon-- Jon, pull out,” you instructed weakly, trying to push him off you and watching how his focussed face tensed and tightened with the oncoming orgasm.
“Sweetheart,” he panted with a frown, “what’re you talking about?”
“Please,” you whimpered helplessly, “just - just please pull out… don’t come inside, please!”
“I’m afraid not, my love,” He grunted, baring his teeth and hammering into you faster, “m’gonna paint your walls white… get you nice and pregnant, fuck, no-one’ll have to question who you belong to…”
“Don’t, no, no -- Jon, please,” you begged, struggling to get away from his assault on your cunt as he pressed his weight further onto you, pinning you down against the bed.
But Jonathan wasn’t listening to you, not anymore. “Gon’ come, fuck, gon’ come,” he repeated, his thrusts stuttering, and you could only let out a grievous cry when you felt his cock twitch, hot spend spilling deep within you.
Jonathan laid on top of you for a moment, pressing his forehead against your sweaty chest, before leaning back and pulling out of you. The painful stretch was reawakened, and your tears really came this time, large sobs exiting your mouth as you crumpled into a ball on the mattress.
“Oh, my love,” he called your pet name with a furrowed brow, crawling closer to you, “what’s wrong? Was it too much? I know how delicate you can be…”
God, you could’ve screamed. He was still treating you like his little lamb… but you were beginning to feel that way, too; feeling like someone helpless he needed to protect. With the way you bunched up devastatedly beside him, it felt like Jonathan had fucking broken you, and then put you back together again with that doll image in mind. Not all the pieces fit the way he wanted them to, but Jonathan had time and brute force to fix all that…
“You -- you… I’m ruined,” you weeped, unable to explain properly with how terrified you felt, bringing your hands up to your face to shield yourself from him.
Your plan had no future of fruition, not anymore… you’d fucked him so you could convince him you were trustful enough to leave and still be his, but you’d fallen into his trap; fucking him was the way he attached a ball and chain to your ankle.
His hand curled around your wrist roughly, pinning it to the bed and letting his other brush a tear from your eye. “No, no, you’ll be the most gorgeous mother I know… your tits and your stomach all swollen like that? I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
Jonathan said that like you wanted him to be all over you, and it only made your cries wrack through your body harder. He then pulled you close to him, pressing your tear-stained face to his chest, letting you sob into him like he brought any comfort at all.
You suddenly felt him press up to your entrance and your tears stopped momentarily, a fearful whine exiting your mouth instead.
At your noise, he pet you gently, reassuringly, “Don’t worry… I’m just keeping us warm… keeping my come inside, my love.” With that, Jonathan slowly slid his length past your aching lips, until he was seated so deep within you his cockhead brushed up against your cervix.
His cream squelched within you and coated himself, feeling terribly slick and sticky between your thighs; you wanted to throw up there was such a large amount of it marking you from the inside.
“God, how d’you already feel brand new… need to do this more often….” he grunted the praise, and you felt shame colour you entirely.
But despite that shame and the terror swelling in your chest, the fact him within you was a surefire way none of his seed went anywhere but inside, his cock resting there did feel nice, like his rough fuck molded your pussy to fit him perfectly.
It was confusing… all of it very mind-boggling; how his actions petrified you while still making you feel nice and appreciated and loved… how his obsession was possessive and toxic but all at once delicate and thoughtful… how you felt yourself cry because he’d come inside you but was slowly succumbing to a sweet and comfortable sleep within his wiry arms.
There was much time to make sense of your amalgamated terror and love later, however. Nine-months long, to be exact: you later woke up to Jomathan pummeling his leaking, hard cock back into you. All you did was whimper, keep limp as he used you-- there was no choice fighting back, not anymore; not since he’d fully marked you… impregnated you… made it so there was no way you were ever leaving him.
#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#batman begins#does anyone see the parallel between the first part and the last part#scarecrow x reader#dc scarecrow
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Yandere Short Stories:
Always Watching, Done Waiting
Yandere Stalker x Terrified Fem Reader
TW: paranoia, psychological horror, STALKING, horror, yandere themes, unhealthy behavior that should never be romanticized, Your STALKER is not attractive
“Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.” (Your name) wept into her knees when that haunting melody began to echo throughout her home. No doubt from the same radio it had played from countless times before late in the night…
The young woman trembled in the confines of her closet while heavy foot steps echoed down her hall. If she kept herself as small a possible, would (your name) be able to avoid being caught by this psycho?
For months she had been harassed by a mysterious man… a man who would not take no as an answer.
At first it was innocent! It was small bouquets of cheap flowers, the kinds that one could buy at a grocery store for under ten dollars. Then it was boxes of her favorite candies. Simple gifts that once brought her joy since she’s never really received such flattering attention… but then it quickly began to snowball into a darker matter. This was no simple puppy love, this was an obsession.
Notes made from magazine clippings for each letters so he couldn’t be recognized through his handwriting, dozens of intimate pictures of her placed in envelopes, and body parts of the local cats she fed all had littered her doorstep over the last two months. Each ‘present’ inspired dread within (your name).
Then began the break ins, the holes in her walls and ceilings that could fit an eye in there to peep, the notes delivered to her job, the isolation from all of her friends and family, and the paranoia. There was not a single place that felt safe to her any longer… and the police wouldn’t help since her stalker had never done anything to harm her.
What on earth could he possibly want from her? Her first born? Maybe he wanted to harvest her organs and sell them on the black market? No… even someone as dense as a rock knew this stalker was utterly obsessed.
“And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.”
The nursery rhyme continued to echo down her hall as her pursuer continued to explore her home with agonizing slow steps. (Your name) had gotten rid of her spare key so how was he able to get in? Had he been staying here prior? God, she didn’t want to think about what this sicko was capable of.
Creak!
(Your name) silently scooted herself into the corner of her closet when she heard her bedroom door creak open. The young woman placed her hands over her mouth to prevent any noise from escaping despite the desire to scream. Hot tears fell down her cheeks, her body trembled like she was in below freezing temperatures. Oh god… she was about to die.
And that’s when the door was swung open to reveal a greasy man around her age. His dark hair greasy and his face covered in stubble and acne scars. (Your name) had seen this man before… he was the guy she gave a few sandwiches to last year! He was so drunk and lost, she felt bad for him… oh god. Was that small act of kindness her catalyst to her fate?
“My darling girlfriend!” The man bent down in front of her and set the radio beside him. His hands snatched hers up in a tight grip. He brought her knuckles up to his chapped lips to press kisses on them. “You’re so skittish… it’s just me!”
“W-who are you?” The man threw back his head and laughed before he gave her a small smile.
“It’s me, silly. Malachi? Your boyfriend of a year?” (Your name) remained as still as stone. A million thoughts ran through her head while this mad man continued to ramble. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to fetch you sooner but money has been tight.”
(Your name) was suddenly pulled into a hug, the young woman tried her best not to gag from the heavy scent of musk and cigarettes that permeated from Malachi. “It was hard to stop drinking, but you were worth it! You were always so kind to me with your pretty smile and your sandwiches… I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you!”
“W-what-“ (your name) nearly fainted when her eyes met his crazed blue ones. How could someone hold so much emotion in their eyes?
“I got my life together and I found a nice place for us… it’s perfect!” Malachi pressed his nose against hers. “It’s away from all of the weird men that harass you in the convenience store and away from all those nasty animals. It’ll be our little safe haven!”
(Your name) snapped out of her stupor when he said that. She had to get away… she needed to run!
The young woman tried to pull away from Malachi but his grip on her was stronger than an anacondas.
“I know it’s a really big step, but it’s been a year now! And I’m tired of waiting for us to take bigger steps! I know you liked my gifts! You never threw any of them away!” Because she needed evidence to give to the police! The same people who wouldn’t protect her…
(Your name) gulped when she felt Malachi press his hips into hers. Something large pressed against her that made her stomach drop. “I’ve been watching you for so long… and I’m done waiting.”
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#ugly yandere#yandere obsession#yandere horror#horror short story#horror short#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x you#stalker yandere#stalker#yandere stalker#tw.stalking#tw.dark content#psychological horror#yandere original character#yandere concept#yandere imagines#yandere insert#yandere idea#original work#yandere boy#yandere male#yandere loser
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obsession w/ tattoo artist!hongjoong
words - 🪼
genre - kind of yandere i guess
warnings - obsessive!hongjoong, possessive hongjoong, literally just a toxic little guy who’s obsessed with a woman he’s just met :D
——————————————————————————
thinking about tattoo artist hongjoong who falls in love with you from the very moment you step through the door of his studio. i’m talking jaw on the floor, eyes popping out of his skull, heart beating through his chest, kind of love. like it’s bad for him…
and maybe he never considered himself to have a corruption kink until you walked in dressed head to toe in pastels showing nothing but fresh, un-tatted skin and suddenly he feels feral. all that pretty skin for him to mark as his own, and believe him, he would.
but then he gets to talking to you and he finds out you want a cover-up and all he can feel is jealousy building up because who had the audacity to get to you before he did. who had the gall to mark up your pretty skin before he’d even had the chance to meet you? it’s unfair, is what it is.
but then he finds out the tattoo you want covered is something you got with an ex, and that jealousy morphs into something else entirely.
oh, he’s fuming…
not that he shows you that, of course. you’re still a perfectly innocent angel in his eyes, even if you’re not entirely his to corrupt anymore. and because of that he needs to be soft with you. he needs to be gentle and kind because you’re gentle and kind. he can’t show you what’s underneath the surface just yet, begging to crawl out and ruin you.
so he makes you as comfortable as possible, gets you a drink, a cushion, a blanket. literally whatever you ask for he’s scurrying around trying to find because goddammit he just wants to impress you!
“so, whereabouts is the tattoo?” he finally asks, desperate to find out because he can’t see it anywhere and the thought of another person tattooing you anywhere intimate is making him sick to his stomach.
“my ribs,” you say simply. he almost chokes on his coffee.
“ribs?” he clarifies with wide eyes. he tries his hardest to keep a straight face even though his blood is straight up BOILING. a few deep breaths later, and he’s ready to continue the charade, “can you show it me? i need to see how complicated it will be to cover.”
and you comply, way too happily for his liking. if you’re this willing to show your body to him, who you’d just met, then what about other men? it’s an illogical train of thought, he tells himself, but that doesn’t really matter to him. whether he’s your tattoo artist or not, you shouldn’t be so complacent. still, despite his displeasure he watches closely as you lift your top to reveal the tattoo to him.
initials.
hongjoong’s day keeps getting worse.
“it’s a bad idea to get a boyfriend’s initials tattooed,” he mutters as he gets closer to the tattoo, rubbing a finger over it gently. your skin is so soft that it sends a shudder down his spine and he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like if he could touch more of it.
“sometimes you think you’re going to be together forever, y’know?”
oh, hongjoong knows. he knows that once he has you to himself, and he will, that you’ll never leave his side. he’ll do anything for you if you ask him to, and not a word of complaint will drop from his lips. how could it when he has the prettiest person he’s ever seen by his side?
“i get that,” he flashes you a quick smile from where he’s crouched by your ribs before going back to study the tattoo. shoddy ink-work, he notices, and the lines aren’t straight either. whoever did this wasn’t as good as he is by a long shot. hongjoong almost basks in the opportunity that arises for him to show off his skills. perhaps he’ll impress you enough that you fall for him, he daydreams, “so what are we thinking?”
you describe your tattoo idea to him, and he hangs onto your every word like you’re reciting poetry to him. it feels that way, your voice lilting in a way that has him sitting on the edge of his seat, begging for you to talk and talk until there’s no more for you to say. he knows that when you’re finished, it’ll only leave him wanting more. perhaps he’ll just keep asking you questions until he runs out of things to say.
“that sounds beautiful,” just like you, “and do you have a particular size in mind? obviously big enough to cover the old one but-”
you cut him off with a giggle, and he’s pretty sure he’s died and gone to heaven. only angels could make a sound so pretty, he’s sure of it.
“you have free reign over everything else. size, style; all i ask is that you stick to my few design requests!”
the words almost make him cum in his pants.
free reign? over something that’s going to go permanently on your body?? holy fuck. he’s not even sure it’s possible, but he seems to fall deeper into this strange hole he’s found himself in. love and obsession and somehow lust all mingle together to create an ugly, possessive lump in hongjoong’s brain. he knows his borderline insane infatuation with a woman he’s just met is wrong, but he can’t seem to find it in him to push that feeling away. in fact, he basks in it.
“so i can just… go crazy?” you nod with a cheeky grin on your face.
“what’s one more bad mistake, right?” you shrug as if your words are nothing, but to hongjoong they’re everything. one more bad mistake leads you to him, and that’s fine by hongjoong.
“oh, honey,” he gives you a shark-like grin, “you have no idea.”
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#hongjoong oneshot#hongjoong scenarios#hongjoong x reader
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hi, i’ve recently found your blog + wow, you’re writing is amazing! i have an idea for i would like to request, i hope that’s okay.
reader has just came home from book club w nesta, gwen and emerie at the house of wind. reader is mated to az - they’re been mated for about a few years. still reader has met nesta, reader almost always has her nose in a book - smutty book to be exact. reader is kinda embarrassed by this bc she wasn’t one to read smutty books before meeting nesta. az is starting to question why reader is always so invested in a book or why he has hardly seen reader for the last couple of weeks. az picks up the book reader is currently reading behind reader’s back & starts to get a little jealous maybe? az may confront reader about the book? i’m not to sure about the ending, but i do know az would do something like asking reader what their favorite scene & they could reenact it or something of that nature. i could totally see az teasing reader just a little bit as well.
i love for you to put your own spin on this. thank you 🩷🩷🩷
Book Boyfriend
Summary - Azriel has gotten a little tired of your reading habits.
Warnings - Az is a kind of a dick
A/n - I went the spicy mad Az route, and don't worry. Per Liz tradition, it's open for another part.
Azriel could have burned the damn book in your hands. You hadn't set it down in 3 days.
3 fucking days of you and Nesta curled into each other, drinking Rhysand's expensive wine, reading that stupid thick book.
He knew you loved to read. Books and book related gifts had been his go-to gifts for you since the mating bond snapped 100 years ago. But the obsession since Ness was made was unbearable.
He never had to fight for your attention until now. He felt a shoulder brush his. "Ah, they're in the "We don't want Cassian to know we're reading smut," pose."
Azriel froze, feeling down the bond and trying to get to your end. You had it locked down, but there was a soft blush on your and Nesta's cheeks. "How do you know its smut?"
Cassian sighed. "It's all they read, Azzy. Have you not noticed?"
His shadows darkened. You had hardly kissed or touched him in 3 days in favor of a smut novel? He could show you things, do things, most authors would only think of in their sick dreams.
He felt himself paling under Cassian's gaze. Was he not pleasing you anymore? Was he not performing to your expectations? You always seemed content, spent, and overjoyed when you two had sex.
"I need a fucking drink." Azriel stormed away. Slamming the door to your shared chambers shut. He took on look at the crystal whiskey decanter and decided to drink until you came to the room.
Azriel woke up to soft footsteps and the feeling of a blanket getting laid across him. He heard you sigh, falling into bed, then that faint creak of an unbroken in book spine opening.
Meaning you had a new book. A new smut novel to ignore him with. A new fake boyfriend to imagine between your thighs.
Azriel stood on shaking legs, and he went to bed. Watching as you snapped to book shut and set it on your nightstand title down. "Did I wake you?"
"Yup." He curled into the bed facing away from you. It was childish, but if you weren't happy, you could have just told him instead of replacing him.
When he woke up, raging headache and all, you were gone. But the book wasn't. He reached over and grabbed it, cracking the spine out of spite. 55 chapters in, and Azriel was bored. If he tried to fuck you on a table covered in paint, you'd glare at him about the mess. About getting paint 1000 places you shouldn't.
So why the hell were you reading a book about it?
It was late into the evening when you returned. Azriel had finished the book, marking specific things he wanted to confront you about. He didn't stand as the door opened, didn't greet you as you came in with a few bags. You were all smiles, dolled up in a pretty dress. Your hair was loosely curled, and makeup was done.
"Where the fuck have you been?" It came out as harsh as he expected it to. "I take a week off and you have hardly spent time with me."
He watched you jump, eyes going wide as you took a few steps back. "Nesta wanted to go into town. We lost track of time. I-"
"Lost track of time? Aren't you the female who taught Rhysand how to properly track the stars and sun?" He stalked toward you, book in hand. "Did you two go to find more vitriol like this?" He held it up, watching as your cheeks flushed and you went to reach for it.
"Azriel-"
He lifted it above his head. "You haven't touched me in weeks. You've kissed me maybe once. Hell, yesterday you were content to leave me on the damn couch. I can see why though, you're sitting here getting your needs met by some fictional fae lord instead of me. If you aren't happy anymore just tell me."
Shock hit your face slowly, mind whirling and emotions pouring into him from the bond. "Azriel, it's a book. Not another male."
That wasn't enough for him. "And how many times have you pleasured yourself to this book? Thinking about the main character between your thighs?"
You sighed. "To that one? Not a single time. I haven't gotten to read it and you already damaged the spine." The sadness in your voice made him pause, lowering the book until you could grab it.
You were always so gentle with your books, caring for them and placing them somewhere safe. Bookmarks never sat in them for too long out of fear of damage. He watched you stroke the spine, going to the bookshelf and placing it in the spot it would belong in to match your color based organization.
"Is this really about a book, or is something else going on?" You wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say his name. He could hear the soft tremble. "I'm sorry I made a friend. I'm sorry I've been spending time with Nesta instead of you. But she gets it. She gets how feeling like you don't belong in this family feels," a stab to his chest. "She gets how feeling out of place among you all feels," the stab turning into a gapping wound that had him leaning against the couch. "She gets what it's like to have a mate that is busy and expects you to be here waiting."
You had ripped his heart out. In 100 years, this had never come up. There had never been signs. "Y/n-"
He watched in silence as you held a hand up, moving to grab some clothes and a hair brush. "I'm going to sleep in a guest room tonight. This could have been turned into something beautiful, Az. We could have used these books to inspire fun in our bedroom," your hand ran along that damaged book. "Instead, you disrespected my belongings, accused me of an unthinkable act, and made this about your fragile ego."
You left the room, silence falling in the wake. Azriel stared at the book he had damaged. It was a first edition. A soft shade of blue with swirls of darkness. He walked to it, head hung in shame.
It was an escape. A way for you to cope with your feelings. No different than him training, and he had ruined it.
And now, he checked his calendar, he had 4 days to make it up to you before he, Cassian, and Nesta were gone for a month.
Leaving you alone all over again with nothing but an empty house and a book boyfriend.
General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
💕 As always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist💕
#acotar#acotar x reader#send asks#send anons#azriel acotar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel shadowsinger
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Cabin shenanigans
(Bat boys x f!reader)
Summary:
Where a game of “truth or strip” with the bat boys at the cabin, leads to a bit more…
Warnings:
18+, SMUT, oral giving!receiving, shower $ex
Mentions of alcohol
Nudity
Tropes
Poly!bat boys
Friends w benefits
Note:
Aaahhh this is my first time writing smut, so please be kind🙏🏼. I LOVE reading poly bat boys fics, like just being worshipped by all of them😩. Living my fantasy out. Also it’s mostly just reader being absolutely spoiled by them;)
Enjoy x
Y/n
I take a sip of my drink as I lounge on one end of the couch.
“Why don’t we do something more exciting?” Cassian suggest from where he sits in an arm chair across from me.
“Like what Cass?” Rhys asks looking at him questionably.
He’s sitting on the other end of the couch I’m in, also drink in hand.
“Like truth or dare” he suggests.
“That’s so boring” I whine.
“Yeah I agree with y/n. Isn’t there something a bit more…spicier?” Azriel asks from where he’s also sitting in an arm chair.
Me, Cassian and Rhys all raise our eyebrows at him, as he isn’t exactly the one to suggest these kind of things.
“What did you have in mind Az…” Rhys questions him.
“I don’t know…like maybe…dare or…strip?” He suggests.
I choke on my drink, and Cassian is just grinning widely. Of course he is. Rhys is smirking a little.
“Did you say strip?” I ask for confirmation.
“What? Are you a coward y/n?” Cassian asks me, raising his eyebrow.
I throw a pillow at him, and the other two just snicker.
“Fine I’m in” I say, chugging the rest of my drink.
Then I refill it to the top. I’m gonna need a lot of alcohol if I’m gonna be able to not get flustered.
“Okay I start” Cassian says.
“Rhys I dare you to fly around the mountains utterly naked…or strip” he smirks at Rhys.
“I do not wanna get up right now…so I guess I’ll have to lose something” Rhys answers as he puts his glass down.
Then he moves to remove his shirt, leaving him bare chested. He could have removed anything else. Seriously?
My gaze drops to his muscular torso covered in Illyrian tattoos.
“You’re drooling y/n” Cassian says, and I close my mouth that has unintentionally dropped wide open.
“Fuck you Cass” I say, flipping him off.
“It’s alright darling. Nothing you haven’t seen before right?” Rhys asks me and I roll my eyes at him.
Again he chuckles.
“Okay my turn. Cassian I dare you to…make out with Azriel” I say smirking at him.
“Say less” Cassian says as he heads over to Az and grabs his face to smash their lips together.
Azriel tumbles back but Cassian goes all the way in. I see how incredibly hungry the kiss is. Cassian is devouring him.
“Okay that’s good Cass. Looks like Az has had enough” Rhys comments.
I just smile to myself and take another sip of my drink.
As Cassian finally pulls away, Azriel seems very shocked and flustered. But not surprised. Cassian has been obsessed with him for years.
“Y/n let me ask you one” Azriel says, directing his attention to me.
“Alright” I say, putting my glass down.
“I dare you to tell us who you find the most attractive out of the three of us” he finishes.
“That is cruel” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
“It’s the game. Do it or strip” he shrugs.
I can’t answer this question. Simply because I do not know the answer. I’ve known them since I was a child. And I find all of them equally attractive.
I don’t say anything as I just remove my socks.
All three of the boys give me an annoyed look, and I quirk an eyebrow at them.
“What?” I ask.
They don’t even answer.
“I removed a piece of clothing didn’t I?” I say knowingly before taking a large sip of my drink again.
“Alright sweetheart. Let me ask you another” Rhys says as he looks at me.
“It’s Azriel’s turn” I protest.
“I’ll do it after you” Azriel says, as I curse him for letting Rhys ask me another.
I turn my attention back to Rhys and he gives me a slight smile.
“I dare you to take off your sweater” he smirks knowingly.
“What? That’s not fair. You’re cheating” I whine as the others just grin at me.
“Do it or take off another piece of clothing” Cassian tells me, and I roll my eyes again.
So I decide to just take off my sweater, leaving me in my bra and sweatpants.
Now it’s their time to gawk. All their eyes trail over my chest, and my lace black bra.
“Hey eyes up here dickheads” I snap at them.
They live their gazes up to meet mine and I can’t help but blush a little.
“Alright Az…I dare you to…leave a hickey on Rhys’s neck” I say with a mischievous smile.
Rhys seems every eager to this dare, but Azriel just takes his shirt off instead. Now he is also bare chested. Just great.
——————
I am now only in my underwear and so are the three Illyrian males.
“I say we stop here, before it goes too far” I suggest, as I don’t need them to see me naked.
Cassian has the audacity to whine, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Why don’t we go out in the snow instead?” Rhys suggest and I just look at him weirdly.
“It’s freezing” I say.
Azriel just smiles smugly. Then Cassian grins as well.
They all look at each other, communicating somehow before they turn to me.
“What. You’re scaring me” I question them all.
Then Cassian moves over to me, lifting me up under my arms. Rhys moves forward and grabs a hold of my legs and I immediately protest.
I kick my feet and slap my hands in the air, but they don’t seem to even notice.
Then they walk me outside into the dark cold and throw me into the snow. Azriel following close behind.
“Fuck!” I yell as the ice cold snow hits my skin. I immediately get up to rid myself of it, but I’m already soaked in it. Even my hair.
“You bastards. You’re so dead” I say as I lean down to make a snowball.
As they notice I do this, they start to make their own.
I throw mine right at Rhys’s chest, and he looks at me wickedly. Fuck.
Then I’m bombarded with snowballs hitting me, as I run away screaming.
“No fuck- stop- I’m sorry- don’t- please” I manage to get out in attempts to run away.
I don’t notice Azriel as he wraps his large arms around my middle, lifting me up.
“No…Az…” I warn him, but then Cassian smashes a snowball onto my head.
I let out a moan of pain. That makes them stop what they’re doing immediately.
Then Azriel lets me down, but keeps his hands on my bare stomach.
“I’m not staying out here, it’s fucking freezing” I say as I manage to get out of his grip, and run inside the cabin again.
I hear several footsteps following me inside, as I head into the sauna.
I perch myself on one of the benches on the second step and close my eyes at the heat.
Then I hear a door opening, and immediately smell their intoxicating scents.
They all settle beside, in front, and behind me. Then I open my eyes.
Cassian is at my right side. Rhys is in front of me, his back facing my legs. And Azriel is behind me, his legs spread out beside my frame. Making my upper body stay trapped in between his strong calves.
“Hello princess” Cassian says as he tucks some hair behind my ear.
“Hello Cass” I answer him nonchalantly.
He moves his fingers from my ear, down to my shoulder, and then down my arm, along my sides resting it at my bare thigh.
I close my eyes again, trying to not pay too much attention to the three muscular Illyrians sitting around me.
Suddenly I feel a few fingers in my hair, playing with some strands. Azriel.
I lean my head back to give him more access. And he immediately takes it. He starts to rub at my scalp, massaging it. That earns him another moan from me. But one of relief.
Again all of them freeze in time, like they’ve seen death.
I open my eyes yet again, to find them all staring at me.
Rhys has turned his head around and is gawking at me. I can feel Cassian’s piercing stare from beside me. And Azriel’s gaze I can always feel. But also the fact that his hands have stopped moving.
“What is it? Why’d you stop Az?” I question him, as I turn my head around to look at him.
“You need to stop making those sounds” he says sternly.
“What sounds” I ask genuinely confused.
“Those moans of yours darling. They’re insufferable” Rhys says from in front of me.
I turn my face to him.
“It felt nice. Azriel’s hands” I clarify.
“I bet they felt extremely nice” Cassian says grinning.
I turn to him this time.
“What do you mean Cass?” I ask him innocently.
He starts to move his hand on my thigh, higher, very fucking slow.
“I mean y/n. That if you’re going to make those beautiful sounds. You shouldn’t be surprised by what that does to us” he explains, his gaze darkening with hunger.
As his hand reaches my inner thigh, right where my hip meets the top, I draw in a sharp breath.
I feel something in my stomach heating at his touch.
“What do you mean” I repeat, even though it’s not really a question.
“Look down” he answers with a sly smirk, and I do.
I look right down to his huge boner. Fuck me. He’s hard as steel. From one little moan from me?
I can’t help but gawk at it, my mouth falling open, and my lips parting. I feel my mouth dry out, at the look of it. I can’t even see his cock, but I know it’s big, from his undershorts.
“You gonna take care of that darling?” Rhys asks from, still in front of me, his hand now slowly up my other leg.
Azriel’s hand has started to move down the side of my face, towards my neck.
I choke on my spit.
“I uhm…what…I thought we were just…I should go to bed” I manage to get out, sprinting to my feet.
But as I hit the floor, Rhys wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me down onto his lap. Right onto his own hard erection. What the actual fuck.
My back is in touch with his chest, and my hands go to his thighs as a reaction to steady myself.
Then his nose moves to brush against my neck and ear, and he leans in to whisper lowly.
“Where do you think you’re running off to?”
I don’t even answer him, as his mouth trails over the sensitive skin of my neck.
I let out a moan again. But this time of pleasure.
“Fuck y/n. I said stop doing that” Azriel groans form behind us.
“She can’t help it Az. My mouth feels to good on her skin” Rhys answers him.
Then out of instinct, I turn around, grounding myself on Rhys’s lap, my thighs draping over his own, and my hands curving around his neck.
He lets out a breath of surprise, but places his palms on my hips anyways.
Then I lean down to his mouth, so that they’re brushing against his barely.
“I really should go to bed…” I whisper.
“You’re not going anywhere love” he whispers back, before smashing his lips onto mine.
I smirk as I kiss him roughly back, my hands immediately tangling in the base of his hair.
I roll my hips into his, and he lets out a feral growl.
“Fuck y/n…”
I let out a moan myself, our mouths parting slightly.
But he pushes my hips forward, repeating the action, earning another moan from both of us.
As I keep grinding my hips into his, I throw my head back, my mouth falling open.
He takes that as an opportunity to smash his lips onto my neck, sucking and biting at my skin.
“Fuck Rhys…” I moan slightly as he leaves a love bite on my neck.
“My name sounds so good coming from your lips darling…” he speaks into the skin of my neck, as he continues to leave marks.
As Rhys devours me, my hips still moving into his, I open my eyes to meet Cassian’s gaze.
He’s eyeing me with hunger. His expression says nothing but lust, and he tilts his head to look at me properly.
I keep eye contact with him, as he moves slowly towards me and Rhys. He settles down on the bench beside us, his right coming in touch with both of ours.
With that Rhys withdraws from my neck and turns his head to the side to see Cassian.
“Couldn’t wait could you Cass?” Rhys asks him.
“I want my name to roll of her tongue as well…” he answers keeping his gaze on me.
My arms are still draped around Rhys’s neck, my fingers playing with his hair. Rhys is now rubbing soothing circles on my waist unconsciously.
“Then you’re gonna have to put that mouth to other use Cassian” I speak up, and both their gazes snap to me.
“You sure you’d want that princess?” Cassian quirks an eyebrow at me.
I roll my eyes at him, and move his hand to my thigh. Rhys just smiles knowingly.
“Why don’t you get comfy on Rhys’s lap sweetheart?” Cassian asks me as he moves off the bench.
I do as he says, and turn around again, my back facing Rhys’s chest. Cassian moves to the ground in front of me, kneeling in between me and Rhys’s thighs.
I feel two large hands wrap around my waist, holding me tightly. I lean my head back into Rhys’s neck, and he gives my cheek a loving kiss.
Then I feel Cassian’s hands trail up my legs smoothly. My own hands move to Rhys’s on my waist, clasping them on top of his.
The hands on my legs move further up, tracing the inside of my thighs. I inhale a sharp breath.
Then one of Cassian’s hands traces the outline of my underwear, and I whimper.
“Shh darling…Cassian hasn’t even started yet” Rhys says comfortingly into my ear.
Then Cassian pulls back, tying his hair up in a bun. Cauldron boil me.
My legs instantly spread wider as a response and he grins widely.
“You’re gonna have to remove this pretty little thing” Rhys says again, as he moves a hand to my underwear.
I only lift my hips in response and Rhys drags them right off me and onto the floor.
Cassian’s mouth drops open, and he stares.
“Cauldron you have a beautiful cunt. And it’s already so drenched” he speaks as he moves closer.
His hands land on my thighs, keeping my legs wide apart. And then his tongue latches onto my slick folds.
I throw my head back into a loud moan, as he drags his tongue through them.
“You taste so good…” he growls into my wet cunt, and I grab into Rhys’s hands.
Rhys just kisses my neck in response, leaving even more love marks.
Then Cassian’s tongue slides into me, and I moan again.
He swirls it inside my cunt, lapping and sucking kisses onto it. Then his fingers join in, once circling itself around my clit.
“Cassian…” I moan into the open, my nails digging into his hair.
His tongue continues to play with my drenched cunt, as his finger circles my clit. I feel heat building up in my core.
My hands tangle themselves into Cassian’s hair as he pushes a finger into me.
That makes me push his head further into me, earning me a feral growl from him.
As I keep pushing his face into my dripping cunt, he lets out several vibrating groans.
I feel myself closing around him. Only a few more moments now.
Rhys notices my squirming and decides to place a hand onto my clothed bra. Running his fingers over my peaked nipples, I let out a moan.
Cassian keeps pushing his face further into me, his finger curling and twisting inside me. The other circling my sensitive bud in a rapid motion.
“I can’t hold it-“ I whimper, as my thighs start shaking.
“Soak his face darling…” Rhys motivates me, as Cassian grips harshly onto my thighs.
His fingers dig into the flesh of my skin, surely leaving bruises. But I don’t care.
I don’t care at all, as I let myself go freely. My whole body twitching with pleasure, and my eyes rolling into the back of my head.
“Fuck!” I cry out in pleasure, as I spill onto Cassian’s tongue.
I keep squirting into his mouth, and he takes it all. His fingers pull out of me, drenched in my juices, and he only looks at me with lust, as he sucks his fingers dry. At that he groans.
“Look what a mess you’ve made of him y/n…CassIan’s drenched in your cum” Rhys says into my ear, as my cunt is still pulsating.
“I want…Azriel” I breathe out. Not forgetting the shadowsinger, who’s been awfully quiet the past minutes.
“You want him do you?” Rhys questions me and I nod.
Then as in command, the shadowsinger steps down beside Cassian, who’s still kneeling, and slips off his undershorts.
His swollen, hard cock springs free and I nearly moan at the sight.
I can’t tear my eyes away, and instead just get to my feet, pushing Cassian aside.
I get on my knees in front of Azriel, pinning up my hair with a ribbon. He grabs my chin softly, tilting my head upwards to meet his gaze.
“You look so good on your knees princess. Now be a good girl and suck me off” he grins darkly, and I palm him in my hand.
He only closes his eyes, as I run my hand back and forth over his long, hard shaft.
His head dips back, as he lets out a deep groan. I hear Cassian shifting behind me to settle himself beside Rhys.
I bring my tongue to the tip, as I lick around it. He groans again.
Then I decide to run my tongue over the underside of his long cock, licking a stripe.
I let my nails drag slightly over him as well, before I finally push him inside my mouth. He’s so fucking big. Bigger than both Cassian and Rhys, and they’re massive. Or at least I think they are.
I start to bob my head back and forth, my tongue running over his sensitive skin. His hands move to my hair, and he fists it in his hand.
I grip his muscular thighs, as I push myself further onto him. I take as much of his large cock as I can into my mouth, and using my hand for the rest.
He hits the back of my throat, and I gag. That makes him groan even more.
“Fuck y/n, you’re a pro” Cassian says from behind.
“Come on y/n, you can bring him to his end” Rhys encourages me.
I hollow out my cheeks, as I continue to bob my head back and forth. Azriel helps me by pushing my head forward. I gag over and over again, letting out a few moans myself, as I take him.
He continues to groan, almost like an animal.
I feel his dick twitching inside my mouth and I know he’s close.
“So close y/n…don’t stop” he motivates me and I don’t.
A few tears spill from my eyes, as he finally fills up my mouth.
“Y/n!” He comes with my name rolling off his tongue.
He squirts a handful into me, and I swallow every single drop. When I pull away, a few drops of his cum drips down my lips. I use my thumb to wipe it off, as I suck it into my mouth. All while keeping eye contact with him the whole time.
He groans again.
“The things you do to me y/n…” he says, and I stand up to meet his eyes.
He smiles a loving smile at me, as he gives me a gentle kiss on the lips. Forgetting that I just swallowed his juices.
A moan escapes his mouth, as he tastes himself on my tongue and lips. Then he pulls away, and looks into my eyes.
Cassian and Rhys comes up behind me us, and I feel two pair of hands wrap around me. I now stand in the middle of the three, tall, muscular Illyrians, and I feel tiny.
Rhys moves some hair from my neck, and leans down to whisper in my ear.
“You’re so beautiful darling…”
I close my eyes, leaning into his touch.
Cassian’s hand moves to my bra, as he traces a hand over it.
“Cass…not again…” I nearly moan.
“Relax princess…let us take care of you” he answers.
I let the run their hands over me a couple of times, let them feel their way over my body. Let them kiss and nibble on my skin. But then I push them away. They all give me a confused look.
I walk away from them, heading to the door, and opening it. Then I walk out and head for the bathroom.
I hear them following me, but I don’t stop. As I enter the bathroom, I strip out of my underwear and walk into the large shower.
I turn on the water, and stand under it, letting it fall onto my body. I soak my hair as well, as I run my hands through it.
When I open my eyes again, I am met with three pairs of eyes. Three pairs of hungry, lustful eyes.
The three bat boys are standing in the bathroom, right in front of me, as their eyes roam over my entire body.
I feel myself heat up again at that. But I ignore it, and go back back to standing under the faucet.
I hear some shuffling and footsteps, before all three of them enter the shower with me.
I open my eyes again to look at them. They’re all hovering over me, and I have to look up to meet their eyes. And they’re all naked. Great.
Just don’t look down y/n. Do not look down. But of course I do. My gaze drops to all their lower abdomens, to the three large cocks that hang there. Oh my fucking god.
I stare fit way too long, a breathy moan leaving my mouth at how they’re already hard.
“Eyes up here princess” Cassian says and my eyes shoot back up.
I swallow deeply, as I find all three of them grinning darkly.
Their own eyes drop to my naked body. Over my chest, stomach, thighs, legs and of course my dripping cunt.
I look at all three of them, deciding which one of them I wanna fuck first. Which cock I wanna feel inside me first.
I head for Rhys as I smash my lips onto his. He immediately wraps his arms around me, and I moan as his hard dick comes in contact with my wet cunt.
I bite down on his lips, my hands moving to either side of me, palming both Azriel and Cassian’s dick in my hands. They both let out groans of surprise.
I continue to make out with Rhys as I play with their cocks.
Rhys’s hands move down to my ass, grabbing a handful, and squeezing tightly. I moan into his mouth.
“I wanna fuck you…” he speaks into my mouth.
“Then fuck me…” I respond the same way.
With that he pulls away, and slams me into the shower wall. He moves one hand to his cock, and pushes slowly inside me. My eyes screw shut at the motion, and I let out a deep moan.
“Fuck Rhys…I don’t know I can-“ I start but he cuts me off, by moving his hand over my mouth.
“You can take it darling. I know you can” he encourages me.
And then he pushes himself the last inches inside of me, and I have to grab onto his shoulders not to cry out of pleasure.
“Cauldron boil me…” I moan out as he starts moving inside me.
Azriel and Cassian take a seat on the bench inside the shower, as they only watch.
My eyes move to them, as Rhys continues to thrust inside of me, and they only smirk.
I notice both of their hard, swollen dicks and I ache to touch them. Help them. Satisfy them.
Rhys moves deeper into me, his hands moving to hold my thighs, so he can thrust as deep as possible.
I try to keep my eyes on Azriel and Cassian, but I struggle as Rhys continues to destroy me.
My nails dig into his shoulders, and I feel myself clenching. I’m close.
“Rhys…I’m close” I breathe out, as he continues to thrust deep inside me.
With that he only pushes harder, his thrusts becoming slower and deeper. That means he’s close too.
“Come on darling…come for me” he encourages, and that throws me over the edge.
My walls tighten around his dick, and I spill myself inside him. He follows me right after, as his own juices leak into me.
“Fuck y/n…you feel so good” he moans as he rises out his orgasm.
As my release ends, I slacken in his arms. Already struggling to stand up from the orgasms I’ve already had.
Rhys notices, and moves his arms to my hips, as he pulls himself out of me. Then he raises his head to meet my eyes. He looks at me worried.
“Are you okay?”
I swallow deeply, and take a deep breath.
“Yes, I’m fine” I confirm with a slight smile.
He nods and gives me a slight smile back, before stepping away from me.
As he moves away, I suddenly get a glance of Azriel and Cassian again, still sitting on the bench.
My eyes dip down to their lower abdomens. Their cocks are still so hard and swollen, and I just ache to have them inside me too. But I’m not sure if I can. My legs are already wobbly, and I’m way too overstimulated.
“I…” I hesitate.
Azriel and Cassian’s gazes both soften at my tone and expression. Then Cassian stands up in front of me, the mother hen that he is.
“Princess? Are you tired?” He tilts my chin to look up at him.
I glance over at Rhys and Azriel again, and they both just look at me softly.
“I can take more…” I lie, or half lie. I do want them. I want both Azriel and Cassian before I go to bed. But I’m just so exhausted. My body feels so weak.
“Princess.” Cassian repeats, and I turn my gaze to him.
“It’s okay, if you’re tired, we can go to sleep” he comforts me.
“I do want you…I just” I don’t wanna miss this opportunity.
“It’s okay angel. We don’t wanna exhaust you. We can take it some other time” Azriel speaks up as well.
“But we had a moment…” I slightly argue.
“More moments will come. Believe me when I say that you will have the opportunity for this again” Cassian tells me with a slight grin.
I can’t help but smile at his playfulness.
“Alright then, but you’re still staying with me through the night. I will not let you leave” I demand them.
“As you command” Cassian salutes mockingly, and I can’t help but giggle.
——————
We’ve rinsed off all our sweat and scents, and I’m currently sitting at the edge of the bed, Azriel braiding my hair.
Cassian and Rhys are sitting pressed up against the headboard, ready for cuddle and sleep.
The need and lust isn’t as strong anymore, but my body is still very exhausted and tired.
“And done.” Azriel says, as he ties up my braid.
“Thank you…” I turn around.
He smiles, cups my cheeks, and gives me a loving kiss on the forehead. Then he pulls back, and sits next to the other two Illyrians.
They’re all dressed in pajama pants and cotton t-shirts. I’m wearing a cotton night gown, my hair now freshly braided.
I look down, fiddling with the hem of my gown, as I can’t look at them. I still feel bad for not letting Cassian and Azriel fuck me too. I said I wanted them, and then I just left them hanging. Guilt creeps up my throat.
“Darling, you’re still not feeling bad right?” Rhys asks, but I don’t meet his eyes.
“No I just-“ I cut myself off.
Then I lift my head to look at all of them.
“I’m sorry for blowing you off…” I look at both Cassian and Azriel.
“Princess, how many times do we have to tell you? It’s alright. We don’t care. All we want is for you to feel comfortable and safe” Cassian reassures me.
“But I-“
“No. You don’t get to apologize angel. You did nothing wrong” Azriel hushes me.
I sigh deeply and decide to slowly crawl over to them instead. I move in between Cassian and Rhys, as I tug the covers over my body.
Then I lay my head on Cassian’s shoulder, and I grab his much larger hand, fiddling with it.
I can feel all their gazes on me.
So I look up at Cassian through my eyelashes, and ask innocently.
“What?”
Cassian reaches out a hand to move a loose strand behind my ear, then he cups my cheek.
He leans down and pecks my lips softly. Then he mutters into my mouth.
“Beautiful”
I feel heat creeping up my cheeks. I don’t deserve them.
He pulls away from my mouth, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him. My lips are still parted where his were a few moments ago.
Then I decide to do something very bold. I grab his face in my hands, and smash my lips onto his.
He immediately falls a little back by the sudden action, but naturally his hands move to my waist. I move on top of him, my legs straddling his thighs.
Then I open my mouth to kiss him deeper, my tongue wanting entrance to his.
“Y/n” he pulls away. I quirk an eyebrow at him.
“Let’s go to sleep” he tells me, his hands staying on my waist.
“But I’m giving you what you want?” I look at him confused.
Rhys puts a hand on my thigh. I look to him.
“Y/n. You need to stop trying to please everyone. Take time for yourself. Rest” he tells me.
I turn towards Azriel. He’s looking at me with that same pitying face. I don’t want their pity.
“I don’t need rest. I need to give you what you want. All of you.” I protest, my hand moving for the hem of Cassian’s trousers.
He stops me, placing his own hands on top of mine.
“Y/n. Look at me” he says, and I lift my gaze slowly.
“Let’s sleep. And then we can do this tomorrow”
I sigh. I suppose they’re right. I am quite tired. And I do need sleep.
“On one condition” I argue.
“And what is that?” Azriel asks.
“These” I hint for their shirts.
“Need to go”
They all smile at me, before moving to take them off. The shirts land on the floor, and I can’t help but drool a little over their muscular forms.
“Can we go to sleep now?” Rhys asks me, and I nod.
I move off Cassian, and back between him and Rhys, lying down on the pillow. They all lie down as well, the duvets pulling over us.
I turn my body towards Cassian, and he turns towards me. My leg moves over his, and my arm drapes over his bare chest. The other arm I move over his waist slightly. I snuggle into his neck, inhaling his scent.
He wraps a strong arm around me, pulling me closer, as he kisses the top of my head lovingly.
I feel Rhys shift behind me, as his front suddenly presses into my back. He also moves a hand over my waist, his face nuzzling into my neck.
I can’t see Azriel, but I know he’s lying behind Cassian. Mostly because his hand interlaces with mine on Cassian’s waist, as I snuggle closer.
I close my eyes, letting myself rest, as I finally feel comfortable. I feel safe. I feel loved.
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Villain in shining armour | s.v
pairing: german!tutor!dark!rbr!seb x student!reader
warnings: kidnapping, chocking, dacryphilia, manipulation, obsessive behaviour, spitting in mouth, grooming
w/c: 2.2k
summary: walking on the street in the middle of the night was dangerous for a girl your age, but luckily you’re german tutor came for your rescue and saved you — or did he?
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You felt eyes watching you. Or at least you imagined them, you weren’t sure.
But it felt like someone was watching you walking home with your heavy backpack, slightly scrapped knees from falling earlier and messy, unmade hair.
You turned around, briefly stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, narrowing your eyes at the darkness, kind of hoping you would maybe be able to make out a figure.
You weren’t crazy, right?
Cars were driving by, but none of them seemed suspicious, none of them slowed down or something like that. And it drove you insane as you just focused on arriving at your dorm which was only five minutes away from now.
You were swearing even though the air was cold, your mind was racing while your heart was beating like never before. You had a bad feeling about all of this.
And that feeling was right.
Suddenly, a old, silver BMW stopped right beside you, a man stepping out of it and making his way towards you.
Tears were already entering your eyes but you released a breath of relief as you saw your German tutor approaching you with quick steps, smiling at you with his typical German charm.
“Y/n?” He spoke up, “What are you doing out here so late? It’s cold and you shouldn’t be outside at that time anymore,” he said, obviously referring to the fact that man are scary.
Honesty, you were glad that he saw you and decided to approach you, you were getting paranoid.
You sighed, “I know,” you mumbled, “but somehow I need to get home don’t I?” You chuckled. “You don’t have a car?” The rather young german asked you, making you shake your head.
“Not yet,” you replied in a quiet tone before you adjusted your heavy backpack.
Why were german books so big and heavy?
No wonder german is so difficult.
Sebastian quickly walked closer to you, “let me-” he didn’t even finish his sentence, Sebastian just removed the heavy backpack from your body, carrying it in his hands now before he opened his car door and gently placed it onto his backseat.
You furrowed your brows before he turned around, looking at you again, “Get in y/n, c'mon… I neither want you to catch a cold nor I want that something happens to you,” he said in a more serious tone, making you raise your brows.
You’ve never heard your tutor talk like that before, “only if you’re comfortable of course, if you-” but you shook your head, cutting him off,
“No! I’m thankful, really! I was growing pretty paranoid — you know… walking around that late in a neighbourhood that is not the safest of all as a girl,” Sebastian nodded along, knowing exactly what you mean, smiling as he did so.
He slowly leaded you to the car, opening the passenger door for you before he got into the drivers seat, starting the engine before you spoke up again, playing with your skirt.
You cleared your throat, “I bet it was nothing but it felt almost like somebody was…watching me like stalking me!” You chuckled to make it seem not so depressing, “I don’t know,” you sighed, “but then you came to my rescue,” you giggled with a smile.
Sebastian's smile fell a bit though, he adjusted himself a bit more in his seat, slowly shoving the binoculars further down his seat with his foot, clearing his throat to cover up the noise a bit.
Obviously, he didn’t wanted to get caught.
“Guess I’m not only your tutor but also your hero now, huh?” He chuckled, showing off his perfect smile in the process.
You shrugged, “Guess so, yeah!” You mumbled with a grin.
Suddenly, the air shifted a bit though.
“Why did you trust me, y/n?” Sebastian asked you all of sudden, making you furrow your brows in confusion, where was this coming from now?
“Uhm,” you thought about your answer, “because I-I know you and you’re a-always nice to-”
“Am I?” Sebastian kept looking at the road as he asked you the question, making you gulp this time.
You only nodded before the German spoke up again, taking you by suprise, “You shouldn’t have trusted me y/n — like c'mon!” He suddenly raised his voice before he slammed his hand down onto the steering wheel, making you jump as tears welled up in your eyes, “why are you trusting a man you got to know like two months ago?” He asked you as if you were a dumb kid.
He sighed, making you briefly look at him, sniffling as you saw his now visibly darker eyes looking angrily at you before he looked ahead again, “You should have never even set a foot in my car, liebling,” Sebastian whispered in a deep tone before your vision went black.
- - -
Waking up with a headache and both of your wrists and ankles tied to a stool in the middle of quite a dark room, was something that every girl your age definitely feared.
Suddenly, you noticed how your German tutor, Sebastian, buttoned his pants back up, quickly jumping up from his stool in the corner of the room as he tucked his white dress shirt back into his dress pants, eyes fixated on you.
This man is utterly disgusting, you almost couldn’t believe it.
“You’re awake,” he said with an almost proud smile as he walked closer to you, making your figure shrink as you started to whine through the tie that’s tied around your mouth.
Sebastian tilted his head to catch your gaze, “finally,” he mumbled under his breath as you tried to get free from the ropes but it was obviously no use.
“Don’t do that!” He raised his voice a bit more, sounding not so gentle anymore, “you’ll hurt your wrists and ankles and I don’t want that, okay?” He raised his brows as you looked up at him with tears in your eyes.
Your tutor's smile slightly fell, “oh no princess,” he whispered in a soft tone, “none of that crying, okay?” He stroked your wet cheek with his thumb, making you gasp and jump, “don’t like to see my pretty little student cry,” he stated gently.
Then you noticed how you desperately whined through the back tie he tied around your mouth, Sebastian frowned a bit, “Oh wait, here! Let me help you, liebling,” the German said before he removed the tie, letting it slide down your neck.
You took deep breaths as he finally removed the small piece of clothing, sniffling with teary eyes as you stared up at your tutor,
“L-Let me go, please…I did n-nothing wrong!” You raised your voice, making him harshly grab your hair and pulling your head back, adjusting his posture a bit to look taller.
You gulped as he roughly pulled your hair, “you did nothing wrong?” He tilted his head to the side,
“You stepped cluelessly with a feeling of relief!, might I add, into my car,” he laughed at you, “seriously thinking that I just saved you! That I’m your hero!” Sebastian smiled wickedly.
You whined, letting your head slightly drop forward, or at least as much as his big hand on the back of your head allowed.
“You know exactly what you did wrong, princess,” he caressed your wet cheek with the back of his knuckles, wiping some of your fresh tears away, “none of that I said, c'mon…this would be all so much easier if you would listen to me,” Sebastian stated with a tiny frown.
You only whined as he pulled your head more upwards again, forcing you to stare up at his standing figure with tired, red eyes.
Sebastian wiped your tears as he looked down at you with no specific facial expression.
“It’s not safe out there, mein liebling,” Sebastian mumbled with a frown, “There are bad, bad man out there nowadays… and those bad man don’t want to to nice things to you, baby,” the young German mumbled quietly.
He cleared his throat before he bend down and opened the ropes of your ankles and wrists, slowly revealing your red and irritated skin.
You slightly furrowed your brows as he finally removed the ropes, grabbing your upper arm and slowly lifting your weak body up, catching you as you almost fell since you were tired, drained and scared.
“Careful, baby,” he muttered before he went on with his little speech from before, “They want very bad things from you… they want to do very bad things to you,” he whispered in a serious tone.
As the German redbull racing driver brushed your hair out of your face and wiped some new fresh tears off of your face, you trembled as you stood so close to him.
“That’s why it’s not safe out there for a pretty, young girl like you, darling,” Sebastian stated with raised brows, “and that’s why I have to keep you safe here— with me,” he nodded along his sentence as he cupped your cheeks, smile slowly forming on his face as your eyes widened.
“W-What?” You quietly gasped as you realised what he just said, gulping as your shaking hands grabbed his wrists, quickly pulling his palms away from your face but Sebastian wasn’t so fond of that.
He immediately threw your hands away before he harshly grabbed your wrists, holding them together with one of his big hands before he slammed your face forward into the wall, running his nose along your temple, lips only slightly touching your ear as he breathed into your ear from behind.
“None of that crying, and none of that bullshit either, haben wir uns verstanden?” you got me? He quietly spat at you from behind as he roughly pressed your arms into your back, making you hiss in pain.
Sebastian's lips touched your ear, scaring you as his hands held your wrists behind your back together, “I’m the only one that can keep you safe from this filthy, disgusting world full of nasty men, mein liebling,” he whispered before he started to kiss some of the tears on your temple away.
You whined and tried to turn your head away from the touch of his lips but he only raised one of his hands and roughly put your head back in place by your jaw.
“What did I say? None of that resisting bullshit, okay?” He mumbled deeply from behind, forcing more tears down your temple that he kissed away while he held your head in place.
Suddenly, you felt him putting both of his hands onto your hair, tying them messily together in a makeshift ponytail, roughly pulling your head backwards by your hair.
You gulped before you gasped as the pain hit you in your scalp, looking up at him now with wide, teary eyes. You couldn’t believe that he was currently smiling down at you.
After shedding a few more tears, you furrowed your brows before he let his hand run up your throat, rough fingers only slightly touching your throat before he placed his visibly bigger hand on your chin, fingers oh so close to your lips.
You bit your inner cheek as he raised his brows, same evil grin still on his face,
“why don’t you open your sweet little mouth for me?” Sebastian muttered quietly in a deep and raspy tone as he played with your bottom lip, making you a shiver run down your spine.
But you couldn’t obey, you were way to scared to do anything at the moment, too nervous that whatever you would do would be wrong.
Sebastian put his hand on your jaw, pulling on your hair as he pulled your head closer while his lips ran along your jaw, making you gasp, “open your mouth, baby — c'mon,” he quietly spat at you in a harsher tone, forcing you to obey this time.
And you did. You licked your lips before you nervously opened your mouth, waiting for him to do something. You just wanted to be over with at this point.
Sebastian briefly chuckled before he squeezed your small jaw with his big hand, slowly leaning forward before he spoke up again,
“Tongue out,” he muttered before he collected to some of his spit in his mouth and spit in your mouth, watching with dark eyes as it ran down your throat.
You felt so helpless, you couldn’t do anything else expect for squeezing your shirt and thinking about how this is not attractive at all, it’s sick and twisted and disgusting — right?
Then he placed his palm on your throat again, carefully watching his spit gliding down your throat while he squeezed your throat, making you gasp.
“Just like that, princess,” Sebastian said in an undertone to you, smile still not leaving his visage, “Gosh… f-fuck,” he mumbled under his breath before you felt him lazily rubbing his crotch area against your ass, making you gulp and gasp.
You stated to whine a bit… why were you feeling this way? You couldn’t explain it, you also didn’t really wanted to.
Sebastian laughed, “Don’t hide it anymore, little one… I know you like it more than you admit it,” he kissed the side of your head, fingers squeezing your throat even harder as he hears your groan and moan, “god please don’t hide those pretty sounds from me — never, okay?”
#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#smut#red bull sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel smut#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel#seb Vettel#Dark#Dark!sebastian vettel#Dark!rbr!seb#Dark ff#Dark!seb#sebastian vettel x you#f1 fic#f1 2023#f1 smut#f1 drivers
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My love is mine, all mine
c/w: severe anxiety/panic attack. bada comforts reader through an anxiety attack. bada best girl.
when bada entered your shared apartment, she knew something was off. she expected to come home to you sitting in the living room, watching your latest k-drama obsession. but you weren’t there, she was worried. alarm bells rang through her head. she makes her way to your shared bedroom to find you lying in bed, staring at the wall. you don’t even look at her as she sits next to you and runs a hand through your hair.
“have you eaten?”
you don’t respond, instead your eyes well up with tears.
“I’ll go get you something. I’ll be right back.” she kisses your forehead.
she leaves and returns with your safe food for when you couldn’t eat well. she sits behind you and rubs her hand up and down your arm,
“i’m not going to make you talk about it. can you sit up for me? just eat half of this and then we can sleep.”
you sit up and scoot back between her legs and against her chest.
she sets the plate in front of you two, feeding you the contents. after every bite she presses a kiss to your temple. once you’ve finished a good portion of the food, she sets the plate to the side.
“can you walk?”
you shake your head. your limbs just felt so heavy, your brain was numb. you were stuck in your own feelings. too much and not enough all at once. you could feel your throat constricting, tears threatening to spill. you open your mouth but nothing comes out.
“don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”
she gathers you in her arms, walking you to the bathroom and setting you on the counter. you sit quietly on as she brushes your hair for you. when she instructs you to open your mouth, you comply and she brushes your teeth for you. she washes your face gently, so gentle. when she asks if you want to shower, you shake your head no. she tells you its fine and that “we’ll shower together tomorrow. lets get you changed into something more comfortable, hmm?” you nod.
as she’s removing your work clothes and putting on your (her) pajamas, something in you cracks. you fully break down. you’re sobbing so hard that you can’t breathe. bada does her best to not look alarmed. she wraps her arms around you tightly, making sure to apply lots of pressure. she read somewhere that applying pressure or weight to someone while they’re experiencing anxiety eases the symptoms. she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to scare you, she just holds you. her hands rub up and down your back, she kisses the top of your head. after a couple minutes, she feels your breathing slow down. she lets go of you, hands massaging your shoulders.
“do you want to talk about it.”
you’ve got a distant look in your eye and bada opens her mouth to say something but-
“not right now. maybe tomorrow.” you croak the sentence out, throat hurting from how hard you were crying.
bada visibly relaxes, “tomorrow, then.”
she grabs you from the counter and brings you back to bed. opens the covers, lays you down, and shimmies herself behind you. she hesitates when her arms almost instinctively wrap around you. she didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, however, you decide for her. you turn around to face her, stuffing your face in her neck. she goes back to rubbing her hands up and down your back. if she feels your tears drip down her neck, she doesn’t say anything about it. Instead she-
“I’ve always got you, y/n. through anything I’ll be here. I promise.”
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I’m literally obsessed w/your work it’s keeping me sane while I try not to think about what’s going to happen to Shinobu in the next movie 💔
I’d like to request just some fluff of Shinobu x a fem reader and they haven’t seen each other for a while. Shinobu is busy being a Hashira and taking care of patients, and reader is busy being slayer taking on mission after mission. Finally, the reader makes it home to the butterfly mansion when it’s already well past dusk, and finds Shinobu slaving away doing late night research. At first Shinobu thinks the reader is some random assistant, but then she quickly realizes it’s the reader, and so Shinobu immediately halts all of her research to dote on the reader. Eventually it leads to the reader gently/lovingly scolding Shinobu for being up late again, which eventually leads to the reader and Shinobu going to bed, and as they catch up, cuddle, and exchange kisses both reader and Shinobu fall asleep. Just very fluffy stuff :D Maybe it even rains too, or it’s cold so Shinobu and the reader have to snuggle up under the covers. All in all just comfort and fluff!
A/N: You're in luck! I actually wrote something really similar but tweaked it a bit to more fit your request. And I'm so happy that my work distracts you as much as it distracts me! Especially from what's going to happen next year LMAO yeah I did find out while writing this tho that I suck at dialogues so that's.. something... hope you enjoy!
LIMITED TIME
- kochou shinobu x f! reader
warning: none
word count: 1.6K
"Finally!"
You squished the demon's remaining ashes under your feet, successfully extinguishing whatever profanities it managed to scream at you. Not bothering to listen to any of them. You're just glad that after a week of overstaying yourself in this village, you've finally gotten rid of the reason you were here in the first place.
It wasn't a strong opponent by any chance but it sure was tricky and cunning. Using ways that even you, who usually just go for the head, think of your actions more deeply. After all, one mistake could lead to a terrifying massacre.
But you waved all of that away. You managed to slay the demon and save people in the process, that's important.
After a while of receiving the countless grateful thank yous, you passed everything else to the Kakushis that had recently arrived with a nod.
"Ame."
Your crow perches on your shoulder and you smile, patting her ruffled feathers as she caws loudly. "Rest! Rest! Rest!"
You chuckle, "Alright, I got it."
Your thoughts wander as you walk towards the direction your crow was guiding you. Warmth settled on your stomach when you realized the familiar pavement and purposely stationed planted flowers as well as the occasional flutter and waves of butterflies.
'Ah.' You fully relax your body, seemingly melting from the warmth on your face alone. You cannot deny that you've longed so much from your family and most of all, from your lover.
It was an unexpected development, you could admit. From close co-workers to friends and then something more. Shinobu captivated you in more ways imaginable and possible. So, imagine the loneliness that clouded you every day that you were away. Being a Hashira as well as her, duties were indeed more important. But sometimes you wish you could be selfish for once and stay one more day with her, free of any worries outside normal, mundane concerns.
Alas, duty calls and you had to be away for two whole months! Countless missions left and right, your recent being the longest you've ever had. It was exhausting and mentally taxing waking up and only having comfort from the frequently exchanged letters sent by the girls and Shinobu before you ready yourself for another night of demon hunting.
Though, you suppose none of those matters now as you stood at the sight of the Butterfly Estate with a tired smile. The sun had already retreated for the day and the bustling mansion was still up and lively, likely nursing after wounded slayers.
You didn't want to possibly distract them so you discreetly went inside and almost immediately bolted towards the work office Shinobu must be working herself on.
You weren't wrong as the clanks and light stomps become audible from behind the thin door.
You widely grinned, you didn't notify any of the girls of your arrival as even you weren't sure when you're free of the duties given towards you. So, you were giddy in your place to surprise Shinobu with your presence.
You raise your arm to knock.
-
Shinobu releases a tired exhale. After the seemingly endless hours stretching on, the beaker she held between her fingers made it entirely worth it. With this specific mixture, she should have a nicely prepared scabbard full of poisonous concoctions of wisteria enough to last a few missions.
'I shouldn't worry for a while.' Shinobu sets the glass aside but momentarily pauses when a knock becomes audible. However, before she could speak, the swish sound of the door harshly sliding enters her ears.
She inwardly sighs, "Aoi-chan, I greatly appreciate your concerns but didn't I-"
"Give the poor girl a break, won't you?"
Shinobu blinks, snapping her head behind. Gaping with widened eyes as your tired state emerged from whatever hell hole you came from.
She eventually snapped out of this quick trance, smirking as you walked closer towards her while she slightly leaned on the table behind. "Oh? Don't tell me you abandoned your missions to visit me? That's sweet but I'm afraid I have to report you to Master~!"
You chuckled, missing her soothing voice yet teasing tone. The two months away truly took so much precious things that you can't help but treasure everything you missed from Shinobu. As you got closer, you immediately pulled her in a tight hug, inhaling the wisteria scent that clung itself onto her and she giggled at your desperate hold.
Feeling you rubbing your head on her neck made Shinobu even giddier, "Now, now. Are you actually coaxing me into not snitching? How cunning of you, my dear."
Already used to this, you didn't mind her teasing behavior. You know just how you could shut Shinobu's mouth and she's well aware of your ability to do so. That in mind, you worked your magic as your hands slowly wandered around her body, while placing small light kisses on her jaw and neck below, grinning at the way she softly sighed as you did so.
Shinobu bit her lip, feeling herself immediately fluster at your touch. She cannot deny she longed so much from you. From your silent touches to the loving gazes. After all, work and research could only do so much to distract her from her aching yearning for you. She's just glad that you're finally free of your duties as much as she is currently too. Tilting her head, she hums at the way your lips last longer on her skin and your palms softly caressing her waist.
"Missed you." You grumbled, leaning away to face her before tilting your head.
"Don't you miss me, too?"
Shinobu chuckles, finding your pleading eyes adorable as she brought a hand to rub your cheek. "Of course I did, my beloved." Her reply easily gets a shy smile from you.
"Good," You sigh, pressing closer towards her again. "..because I missed you so much I could just die."
The Hashira pats your head, loving the way you leaned most of your weight onto her, "Hmmm.. so dramatic."
You completely ignored her words, rather continuing on complaining about your previous missions, grumbling and groaning as if Shinobu was giving attention to everything other than the way you twirled her hair around your finger or the way you lock your jaw the moment you recall something entirely embarrassing or annoying. She could just stare all day and not get tired of doing so.
"..'nobu, Shinobu.. are you listening to me?" She hums, licking her lips and bringing her eyes back and up to your own with a sly grin.
"Something about demons, yes?"
Yep, she wasn't listening. You shook your head. "Well, that's all from me, how about you? I trust that you've been taking care of yourself?"
Shinobu visibly beamed, "Of course, I have-!"
"Don't even lie."
You immediately deadpanned. "You have a futon in here, which you only bring out if you spent a few nights here again. And don't think I didn't notice your cold and untouched dinner set aside either."
Her smile tensed, her head tilting as her purple eyes seemed to glint with a single brow raised. "Well, what's the point of asking something you're already aware of?"
You roll your eyes, "I wanted to test you," You shrug, leaning away from her touch. "I guess you failed."
Shinobu didn't even let a single second pass without her arms tangled around your neck as she immediately pulled you in, her smirk widening.
"Don't think I would let you escape that fast~"
You giggle, easily balancing the two of you as you give her a short kiss. "I'd be saddened if you did." You give her hips a small squeeze, "After all, I wouldn't dream of letting you go."
She huffs in amusement, "My, what a sweet talker you are."
"Says you."
Shinobu laughs, slowly pushing you towards the conventionally placed futon on the side. The two of you immediately cling onto each other, with you burying your head on Shinobu's neck while she lovingly caress your hair, the warm blanket sat above you two.
Pure small moments like these, seemingly ordinary yet profoundly precious, are what Shinobu cherishes the most. Nothing else but love and care radiating from the two of you. How she wishes time could stop and stretch on endlessly just for the two of you to spend time together.
You soon break the long and comfortable silence. "Take care of yourself, will you? Not just for me but for the girls as well."
You take a small peek at her, pouting at the way Shinobu simply smirks with her eyes closed, your words seemingly entering and leaving one ear to another.
"I mean it, Shinobu. Don't push yourself too hard, you deserve a break too."
She sharply exhaled yet the smile plastered on her lips softened hearing your words and you snicker seeing it. You know she secretly likes being taken care well. Although, you doubt she'll agree hearing it.
You return to your supposed location, deep down her nape once again with a satisfied smile. The warmth in your stomach increasingly grows, content being beside your lover like this.
"I love you."
Shinobu feels the heat creep up her face and ears, her heart tug felt painful yet she loved every single beat of it because she knows it's all because of you. You always make her feel like she's floating, always without a single fail. And at that moment, she feels all the strain for the past weeks leave her body as her comfort fully and rightfully embraced her.
Words could never capture the actuality of her feelings and yet it easily left her mouth anyways.
"I love you too."
As she always had and always will.
shinobu secretly liking being taken care of is so so canon to me that i jst had to mention it as a small detail idk why
GRGRGRGG i feel like I could've done better at portraying shinobu but i cant let yall starve any longer so i forced myself to publish this heheheh hopefully i could finish other requests too, have a nice day!
#demon slayer#shinobu x reader#demon slayer shinobu#demon slayer x reader#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#kocho shinobu#reader insert#shinobu#shinobu kocho#female reader#wlw#wlw post#oneshot#kocho shinobu x reader#kochou shinobu x reader#shinobu kochou x reader#shinobu kocho x reader#shinobu kochou#shinobu kny#shinobuxreader
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bend without breaking ; Jimmy Darling x reader
summary and word count: 4.4K! requested by @sugarr-and-spicee. you get jealous of Maggie Esmeralda, and decide to give Jimmy a taste of his own medicine. Angst, smut and a little fluff ensues.
w a r n i n g s: contortionist!reader, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, angst, jealousy themes, rough sex, alcohol mention, clunky writing, uhhhhhhhh Jimmy being real handsy and kinda' manhandling reader a bit. maggie esmeralda hate.
a/n: written partially at work, so if it's clunky or disjointed I apologize!! divder by cafekitsune!
full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here!
It's not like you owned him or anything. It's not even like he really even cared about you outside of the scope of the general, amiable 'member of the troupe' kind of relationship. Now, of age, he flirted with you casually, like he did all the girls, but you, as delusional as it may have been, thought you had something special – because boy, oh boy, did you care about him. You were obsessed with Jimmy Darling, in all ways possible.
You'd grown up alongside him, from the age of sixteen when you got kicked out for a plethora of reasons, and ran away to the traveling freak show that was opportunely in town. It had taken the owner, Elsa Mars, almost all day to be convinced, but when you bent over backwards, putting your head through your legs and pleaded with her upside down, a sly smile spread across her thin, aging lips.
You thought that Jimmy might’ve fancied you – that was until Maggie came along. The liar. The fraud. The insolent little brat that she was. She’d taken a liking to Jimmy, and seemed to snatch up every second he was alone – something that you used to do. He had fallen for her fortune teller act, but you certainly hadn’t. Your aunt had been a fortune teller and had possessed a true and genuine gift. This broad did nothing but spin silly little tales about misfortune and good luck, generic things that any person could identify with.
You’d decided to test the waters one hot summer afternoon. It was before the show, and Jimmy was preoccupied setting up the cash box. With your skirt in your hand, swishing it back and forth, you strolled up to him feeling as giddy as ever. It was rare that you didn’t feel bubbly when you were around him – he had that effect on you. Before you spoke, you took in his appearance; a sheen of glistening sweat covered his bare, tanned shoulders, his caramel-coloured locks hung in a cluster on his forehead, and his dark, brown eyes swept over the cash as he counted it, arranging the tickets neatly next to the box.
“Hey Jimmy,” you cooed. “Need any help?”
Without looking up, he replied: “Nah, doll. I’m just about finished.”
“Well, maybe I could help you with whatever you’re doing next…”
“If I need ya’, I’ll find ya, sweetheart.”
“Or you could find Maggie.”
“She’s in her trailer.”
Your heart quivered and sunk, cracking like a delicate porcelain vase. He already knew; he’d already found her.
“Of course she is, and of course you’d know that.”
He grinned crookedly, exhaled out of his nose and shut the cash box, turning the key. He looked at you then, with a pointed gaze. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean? Huh?”
Your brows rose high on your head, feigning innocence. He, of course, with all his charm and wit, saw right through it. You didn’t care. “Oh, nothing , Jimmy. Nothing at all.”
“Sure, dollface, sure. You wouldn’t be jealous, now would ya?”
“Of her? I’d be more jealous of a drowned rat in a sewer than I would be of Maggie.”
With that, you stomped off, your steps crunching the tall grasses that covered the field you called home for this month. Your heart was pounding, your cheeks had flushed. Feeling like a fool, you marched right to your trailer, taking great care to slam the door as hard as you could.
You spun around, facing the door as thought he was behind it. “How dare he think I’m jealous of her ! That horrible woman, and he thinks – oooooh! ” You clenched your fists, shaking them at the door.
It had taken you two hours to calm down. Two hours of pacing your small bedroom, fussing with your appearance and reading a magazine you’d picked up in town last week. It also took you two hours to come up with what you thought was the revenge plan of the century.
An hour later, you found yourself at the local diner, schmoozing with a cute young man in his early twenties. You’d batted your fluffy lashes and pouted your lips and with hardly a few words, you had him wrapped around your manicured finger. He’d bought you a milkshake, which you were nursing, taking small sips in between answers.
“You’re sure you won’t run out of this diner screaming?”
“No - no. I promise I won’t.”
“I’m a travelling performer… I’m only here for a few more weeks. I work at the Freak Show in the field down the road.”
“What do you do?” He asked, cautiously, looking you over your body with a suddenly very critical eye. To most, you looked normal . Sure, you were a little longer and lithe than some girls your age, but you didn’t fit the bill of a freak. That was until you bent and contorted your body into the most mystifying, inappropriate positions that they had ever seen a woman in.
“I’m a…” you leaned in, dipping your chin to your chest, keeping your gaze sternly locked on his. “A… contortionist.”
“A what?”
Oh, what a dumb bunny . He was cute, you’d give him that; his pretty, sea-blue eyes, pink lips and dirty blonde hair that had been perfectly styled. The clincher was that he had two very nice hands – strong, and veiny. The truth of the matter was that you preferred Jimmy Darling’s hands – but he didn’t need to know that. To him, this would be a threat, and if everything went according to plan, Jimmy would be red with anger, furiously jealous and looking as though he must bust a vein.
“I’m flexible. Very flexible.”
His eyes lit up. It was a predictable response, and one you’d seen before. Men were grotesque, they liked the idea of bending a woman into unique positions like a jointed doll, just to see her body in a fresh, new way. They liked the thought of fucking you while you were bent over backwards, folded up neatly.
The waitress brought your food; you’d only ordered a side of fries, which you dipped into the remainder of your shake. A habit that you’d learned from Amazon Eve – it was easily the most delicious combo you’d ever tasted. As you two ate, the conversation drifted naturally. You laid on the charm heavy. Every other response contained a compliment, telling him how handsome he was, how you’d never seen a boy as cute, so on and so forth. He fell for it hook, line and sinker. And you.
Afterwards, he paid and held the door open for you. As any gentleman should, he wasn’t earning any points with you. Only one man could…
“Can I come see your show?” He asked, playing idly with your fingers.
You reached over and yanked one of the flyers from the nearby telephone pole, folded it in fours, and pressed your lips to the paper, leaving a crimson mark. You tucked it in the man’s shirt pocket.
“See you tonight. Tell ‘em that I sent you. Front row seats.”
He stammered out an agreement, looking flustered. With a wink, you were sauntering back down the sidewalk. The great big sun, orange and warm, was making its heavy, tired descent back into the horizon, and you quickened your pace. The last thing you needed was Elsa being upset at your disappearance.
As you made your way back to the field, you hummed the song that was playing in the diner and skipped. There was something to be said about the butterflies in your stomach, though you couldn’t discern whether or not they were for the fact that you were going to see that man in the audience. You suspected not. Jimmy Darling would be jealous and that was the thought that sent you.
Later that night, as the calliope played, your hands glided up over the curves of your thighs, and over your sides, gracefully, like a burlesque performer teasing a reveal. With one movement, you brought your leg up to your head, pulling it tight. A few oooh’s and chortling chuckles from men in the audience dotted the room. With floaty, delicate movements, you slid down into the splits, never losing your bright smile in the process. More pleased reactions and some applause. You crossed the stage in backbends, working the crowd as they cheered for you.
At the final backbend, you sunk to your stomach, laying on the floor. You were just nearly at the edge of the stage, and directly in front of you was your diner boy. His eyes were locked on you, enchanted, enrapt and obsessed like a dog staring at a fresh cut of sirloin. With a come-hither smile, you reached out and swept your hand along his jawline before tapping his chin with a single finger. You sucked in a deep breath and brought your legs forward, curving your spine around until your feet were planted on either side of your face.
The crowd gasped in horror, and little girls shielded their eyes, expecting to hear the dull crack of your spine as it snapped in two. But Diner Boy was fascinated, and still staring at you. He was looking at your body, the unnatural curve of it, and the way that you’d brought your cunt somehow closer to his face. As the seconds passed, he looked more and more like a dog to you, hungry and slobbering.
You smiled, scanning the crowd again. Your eyes drifted to the corner of the stage, where Jimmy stood against one of the support poles, arms crossed. At least, despite Maggie, he’d retained his habit of watching every performance you did – though this one, he didn’t look as delighted with. You could tell by the way the corners of his mouth were pointed down in an angry frown, his eyes narrowing at the little things you did to entice Diner Boy. You grinned at Jimmy, acknowledging him and tapped the toes of your shoes childishly against the stage before unfolding your body again.
The rest of your show finished without a hitch, and Diner Boy played his part very well. He took in every moment, and at one point, when you reached your hand out to him, he interlaced his fingers with yours. A nice touch. When you looked back to where Jimmy was, he was gone. You smiled inwardly, prideful and gratified by the way your devious little plan had gone.
As soon as you went off-stage, Jimmy grabbed you by your arm, gripping your bicep hard. Almost too hard. You winced. “What was that about?”
“What? I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Casually, you yanked your arm from his grip and began to polish your nails on the fabric of your shirt.
“Cut it out! You know what. Who was the guy in the audience? You sure were payin’ him a lot of attention.”
His words, though loud, were a little slurred, his breath smelled of alcohol; you could tell that he'd taken a few gulps of liquid confidence before approaching you. You didn't mind; your father used to say that the truth came out with booze. You hoped that would remain true with Jimmy and he'd spill his guts to you.
“Just someone I met at the diner, Jimmy. Why are you getting so heated over him? You flirt with girls in the audience all the time.”
“It’s part of the act, doll! You know I have to act a certain way, I can’t –”
“Can’t what? Stand to love me?”
Jimmy stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging slack. His chest rose and fell with hot, angry breaths.
"Just because I can bend without breaking doesn't mean my heart can, Jimmy."
“Dollface, wait.”
“No.”
You pushed yourself through the flaps of the tent, storming off towards your trailer. Jimmy followed close behind, calling your name.
“Doll, c’mon, hang on a minute!”
“No, Jimmy. Maybe Maggie can hang on a minute .”
“Hey!” He bellowed, catching your arm again. You pressed your back against your trailer’s door, again, yanking it away from him and crossing them tightly across your chest. Your heart thudded against your ribs, deeply delighted at the fact that he was chasing you, pursuing you with an overbearing jealousy.
“What.”
“Can we just…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “...talk about this a second?”
“Sure.” You snapped.
Jimmy’s black coffee eyes scanned over you, searching your face for some semblance of softness. He found nothing but a tightly pressed line of lips and a cold gaze.
“What’s your problem, huh? I can’t flirt with other guys?” you finally asked, your stern voice shattering the awkward silence.
He shook his head, almost sheepishly. “I don’t like seein’ it. I know they don’t care about you.”
“And you do?”
Jimmy swallowed again, forcing the lump in his throat down. For the past several years, you’d been a constant in his life, by his side, and taking all his showman flirtations in stride. You’d never once fired back at him, and he thought that it was because you could care less about what he did or who he flirted with. Against the voices in his head, Jimmy pacified the anger in his gut by leaning forward to crush his lips against your red ones, tasting the sweetness of whatever gum you’d been chewing before the show.
He lingered there a moment before his conjoined digits made their way up your waist, gripping it softly. He waited for you to soften, to ease into his kiss, but you didn’t. You stood your ground, arms still pressed against your breasts. You intentionally filled your mind with thoughts of Maggie Esmeralda and how close he’d gotten with her. You thought of all the times that he flirted with girls in the audience, damn near kissing them with how far he’d lean off stage during his song.
“Baby, please…” You blinked. His low, smooth voice pulled you out of your hateful thoughts.
With a heavy sigh, you murmured, “I want to hear you say it, Jimmy.”
“Say what?”
“You know what.”
The muscles in his jaw fluttered as he clenched them, grinding his teeth hard. Jimmy spent his whole life being put on the spot, but it never got any easier. Especially not in front of you – the girl he’d fallen hardest for. He inhaled, puffing his chest out and mustering up all the confidence he had.
“I don’t like seein’ you flirt with other guys… ‘cause… I wish it was me.”
“Who’s jealous now, huh?”
“I am.” He looked at your lips, then back up to your eyes. A cricket started off somewhere in the field, and your attention flitted off towards it, only to have Jimmy’s large, warm hand bring you back. “Hey.”
He kissed you again, his strong tongue darting out to taste you again, his plush lips closing around your bottom lip to suck it gently. This time, an undulating warmth erupted deep in your core. You couldn’t help but melt into him and your arms relinquished their position, dropping heavily to your sides. Your fingers reach forward to claw at his shirt, just above the waistline of his jeans and instead latch onto his belt loops, pulling him closer at the hips.
You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, swirling your tongue with his. Mingled with his personal taste, he tasted like warm honey and the liquor you smelled on his breath earlier. Not always admirable, it was something that you knew him to dabble in when his mother wasn’t looking. More often than not, he’d sneak some booze, saying it calmed his nerves before and after shows. You didn’t mind; in fact, you wondered what it would be like to have a drunk Jimmy, sloppy and unable to control himself around you.
“I’ve waited a long time for this…” you broke the kiss, breathlessly whispering over his lips.
“Me too, honey. Me too.”
Keeping your eyes on him, you blindly felt behind your back, where the handle of your trailer was digging into your soft flesh. You yanked it open, and took a fistful of Jimmy Darling’s shirt, tugging him inside.
It was like someone had fired a gun and Jimmy was a racehorse. He charged at you, his big, conjoined fingers wrapping tightly around your hips on either side, kneading the flesh like dough. He kissed you again, hot and in a hurry, like you only had a few minutes to do whatever it was you were going to do. With your hands on his pectoral muscles, you pushed him off gently, just enough to get a look at his face.
He, being mere centimeters from your breasts, wasn’t looking at your face. His attention was clearly elsewhere. A low, rumbling groan vibrated through his throat as he craned forward to kiss your skin.
“Jimmy, baby, slow down…”
Between feverish kisses to your neck and chest, he muttered: “I can’t, I’m sorry.”
He had you where he wanted you, after so long, and he wasn’t going to let that slip through his fingers this time. Jimmy muscled you backwards, urging you towards the small hallway where your bedroom was. He was all hard-working muscle. Having done set-up for so many years had lined his body in bulky strength, the kind of strength that you only get from hard labour. So, when he started guiding you backwards, you could do little to protest.
“Jimmy, my god, what’s the rush?”
“I want you bad, baby… bad.” As proof, he urged his hips against yours; the hot rigidness of his erection pressing into your hip bone. You let out a surprised mewl, and wrapped your arms around his warm neck, fingers slipping into his short-cut hair. His lips found yours again as the backs of your thighs hit the mattress. He kissed once and playfully, shoved you down. You bounced twice on the bed, looking up at him with a heavy, wanton gaze.
“I’m all yours, Jimmy Darling. All yours.”
Jimmy didn’t say anything, just sunk to his knees, his hands finding the stretchy hem of your sequined shorts. He pulled them down in a swift jerk, before moving right back up to your waist. Those striped tights were next. He rolled them down off your thighs and over your knees; which fell apart, exposing the already-damp satin of your underwear. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him as he worked.
He was in too much of a hurry to bother taking off your shirt, instead just gathering the fabric and pushing it up over your breasts, letting them bounce free. He may have been raised a gentleman, but he wasn't immune to the tantalizing sight of some tits -- especially when they belonged to a girl he'd been lusting over for months now.
"God damn, baby. Look at those."
You couldn't help but blush, feeling your cheeks grow hot at his compliments. You bowed your head, casting your eyes to the floor. You were so stern before -- what had happened? Silly question. You knew; he was undressing you in your trailer, all that confidence had melted away underneath his strong, fused fingers.
“Jimmy, promise you won’t flirt with Maggie anymore…”
He scoffed. “She’s nothin’ to me, honey. Gals like her are a dime a dozen.” He pressed his lips to your kneecaps before kissing his way up your thighs. You whimpered, your head lolling heavily back between your shoulders. You thought about revealing that she wasn’t a real fortune teller, but Jimmy’s mouth neared your cunt, and the thought disintegrated.
“...my god…” you breathed, your lids drifting shut. Jimmy nuzzled his face and lips against your soft mound, the hard bridge of his nose teasing at your soaked slit.
“You like that, baby?”
You nodded, again, whimpering. He pressed his fingers slowly against your soft mound, over the fabric. Feeling the puddle that had settled into your underwear made Jimmy clench his teeth, hissing loud through them. With one hand, Jimmy maneuvered your underwear down your thighs. Once they were off, he tossed them carelessly behind him – you’d find them a day later in your kitchen sink. Now exposed, you gazed at him sheepishly, for the first time since he'd started kissing you. His eyes fixated on the wetness that glistened in the low-light of the trailer.
"I had no idea..." he said, the pad of his thumb sweeping over your clit with just enough pressure to make you writhe in lustful agony, aching desperately.
"No idea what?" You breathed.
"To be honest with you, that you liked me that much..."
You leaned forward, taking his chin into the palm of your hand. You stroked it gently, falling deep into his eyes. "Jimmy... I've wanted you since before I could have you."
You looked on at his face in admiration as the thoughts played out, the realization of what you meant dawning on him. He grinned his bright, lopsided grin and his large hands slid up your legs, caressing the outside of your thighs thoughtfully.
"Baaaby," he hummed before dipping his head down. You gasped, your lids drifting shut in ecstasy as you felt his breath rush over you -- you knew what was coming; one deep sweep of his tongue along the length of your cunt, between your folds to taste you, to savour your silken wetness. Burying his nose in your pussy, Jimmy alternated between using the strong tip of his tongue to flick at your sensitive spots and lapping at your clit with a flattened, thick tongue. Adventurous and hungry, he'd venture further down to get a mouthful of your sweet, heady wetness and would murmur how good you tasted into your cunt -- the vibrations of his voice made you shiver every time.
After a few minutes of this, you felt the inner core of your legs begin to shake every time he made contact with your clit, your tummy tightening in a warning clench. You reached forward, gripping his head on either side, yanking him softly off your cunt.
To your relief, he straightened up, chin glistening with your fluids. He swallowed you down, growling in satisfaction; the intimacy of tasting your lover's ejaculate was unparalleled, and when your eyes finally opened, they met Jimmy's lust blown ones. He was ready, and so were you.
"Fuck me," you said, nodding.
Jimmy made quick work of undressing, pulling his briefs down over his ass cheeks before he lined his red-tipped cock up with your leaking slit, bumping into the sensitive bundle of nerves a few times before he stuck you. He didn't ease in, just bottomed out and you let out a pleasurable yowl, tossing your head back at the sensation of being so full as his thick cock violated you, slipping against your slick walls. He found a rhythm, thrusting his cock up into you as deep as he could. You clenched hard around him, pulling a groan from deep within his chest. He pulled out, looking down at your sopping wet and now reddened cunt.
"'Hoh' my god, baby... do that again."
He gripped your hips hard, pulling you roughly onto his cock. You clenched again, swallowing him into you. The tip disappeared inside you, hot and leaking, and he held himself there, completely engrossed in the sensations. You clenched again, pulling him further in and Jimmy's head fell back, his hips bucking hard out of instinct. You both found a hurried rhythm, grinding and rolling against each other with voracious desire.
As he thrust into you, Jimmy watched you intently, holding onto you tight, his thumbs working your hips, kneading them in small circles. He looked starved for your image, the way that his eyes climbed from your hips to your breasts to your face and back down again. You let out a particularly ecstasy-ridden moan, and Jimmy dug his fingers into your hips.
Rocked back and forth with the strength of his thrusts, you look down, watching as his thick cock pumped in and out of you. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, and Jimmy's dark eyes followed them as they moved.
"Huuuh... I'm gonna' lose it, baby... you feel so god damned good..."
"Give it to me," you coax, moaning deeply. His thrusts get faster, more feverish and uneven, and before you can say another word, his expression contorted, brows pulling together in pleasured agony. You felt the warmth of his cum as he filled you up with a few spurts, but kept pumping until it leaked out the sides, groaning deeply. Your orgasm raced towards you quickly after that, pulsing around him in a hungry grip.
With a heavy sigh, Jimmy pulled his softening cock from your cunt and flopped heavily onto the bed onto his back. Your chest rose and fell with every laboured breath, sweat streaming from every pore. Both of you, collapsed in lust, saying nothing, just enjoying the warm scent of sex that lingered in the air. Soon, your sappy gaze drifted from the ceiling to Jimmy. His fawn coloured hair clung to his forehead in sweaty clumps, his cheeks flushed. You'd done that. Made him jealous until he fucked you silly. You smiled inwardly, and adjusted your head on the small mattress.
"Turn the fan on, Jimmy, it's hot."
Jimmy leaned over, flipping the small metal switch. The fan rattled to life, blades spinning and washing your sweaty skin with a soft breeze of cooler air. He leaned back, enjoying the change in temperature.
"I meant what I said, dollface. Maggie's nothin' to me now that we're uh..."
You pressed your lips against his softly, smiling into the kiss. "We're what?"
"Y'know..."
"Fucking each other like teenagers?"
"More than that, baby. More than that."
You weren't sure what that meant yet, but you weren't about to question a bit of it. You paused, furrowing your brows. You realized that Diner Boy had probably expected to see you after the show, but you hadn't shown. You hadn't even thought about him, far too busy with Jimmy's lips to even remember he was there.
"What?" Jimmy asked, concerned.
"I wonder if he was waiting for me..."
"I hope he was, and I hope he figured out real quick that you weren't comin'."
You kissed him again, inhaling his scent. Jimmy hummed into your lips, pulling you atop of him, his face bright with adoration.
He stayed in your trailer that night, and you two fucked each other, explored each other's bodies repeatedly. When the morning sun peeked through your lacy curtains and your lids peeled apart, a yawn ripping through your mouth... you wondered if Maggie Esmeralda saw that coming.
#Jimmy Darling#Jimmy Darling x you#Jimmy Darling x reader#AHS Freak Show#ahs freakshow#myfics#requests
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Enchanted (idiots in love)
“Try something fun,” Nia had said. “Get your mind off science,” Nia had said.
Lena huffed as she flipped through the pages of her spellbook, scrawling notes in her notebook. Science was fun. Labwork was soothing, data analysis was exhilarating, and tinkering solved that itch deep in her bones. She wanted to understand, and science was always there for her.
… except for right now.
It just didn’t make any sense. The double-slit experiment should have produced a diffraction pattern - or at least two straight lines, if somehow magic behaved as a classic particle. But magic did neither. Instead, it either caused a damn fractal or did not seem to pass through the slits at all. How the fuck does this work?
Nia - knowing full well what it was like to struggle with capricious and chaotic powers - had suggested that Lena take a break, try something fun with her magic instead of constantly churning through its utility or its inner workings. The thought made Lena grumpy, but she was out of experiment ideas at the moment - so there she was, flipping through her mother’s spellbook, trying to find something… fun.
Lena continued her grumble, trying to get her mind off her experiments - maybe magic is some sort of phasic neutrino nonsense - and turned her page to a pair of spells that always caught her eye, though she would never admit it. It’s not as though she would ever use the spells for LUST and OBSESSION anyway.
Still, it was interesting, where these two spells lay. The spellbook wasn’t organized alphabetically or in any other methodical fashion - instead, the spells near each other always seemed thematically related. Malicious spells were grouped together, as were benevolent spells, as were helpful spells, often with some illustrations in between to separate the groups.
It always amused Lena that there were only these two spells in this cluster - OBSESSION on the left side, LUST on the right, in nearly the exact center of the book. There was nothing else… no love spell, she thought to herself. Not that she’d ever use it, even if there was a certain kryptonian whose affections she yearned for.
“Are you okay?” came a familiar voice.
Lena looked over her shoulder, finding Kara walking down from the balcony entrance. “Kara,” Lena said, feeling a little lighter as the blonde entered the room. Romance or not, the kryptonian always managed to put a smile on her face. “I’m fine.”
“That’s not what Nia said,” Kara said with a patient smile, halting at the foot of the table, as her hands rested on her hips.
“She has a big mouth,” Lena mumbled.
“She said you’ve been frustrated,” Kara said with a small laugh.
“None of my experiments are working,” Lena grumbled. “Magic acts like nothing I’ve ever seen…”
“You can’t always learn new skills from first principles-” Kara began, before her drifting eyes suddenly halted on the book.
Lena’s brows furrowed in curiosity as she watched a rose tint rise in Kara’s cheeks. Confused, Lena followed Kara’s gaze to the spellbook, before remembering… Obsession and Lust. “Oh, no, no-” Lena started, reaching over to the book to close it. “Not that type of frustrated…”
“W-well, it’s okay if you are,” Kara said, stuttering.
“I’m not, I’m- I’m fine.”
“You don’t need a spell, Lena,” Kara said, her embarrassment tempered by sincerity. “If you wanted someone. You could have anyone.”
“I- I wouldn’t use a spell, Kara!” Lena said. Goodness knows her brainwashing days were well behind her. “There’s not even a love spell in here anyway.”
“No, there wouldn’t be,” Kara said pensively. “Love can’t be forced.”
“I’d want it to be real anyway,” Lena said, her fingers drifting over the book’s cover as she tried to fight the heat rising on her face. But Kara’s comment was… interesting. “How do you know it can’t be forced?”
“Just a conversation I had with an imp once,” she said, a fond - if perhaps a little sad - smile tugging at her lips. “Love has to be found. It doesn’t work otherwise.”
Lena hummed noncommittally, rising from her seat.
“You’ll- you’ll find it, Lena. Like I said, you could have anyone.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Lena said softly.
“Lena,” Kara said, suddenly concerned as she closed the distance between the two, taking Lena’s hands into her own. “Lena, I’m serious. You’re kind, and so smart, and beautiful-”
“Kara, please,” Lena said, finally meeting Kara’s eyes again.
Kara eyed Lena, shifting anxiously on her feet. Lena tilted her head, curious as to the kryptonian’s newfound nerves. With a pursing of her lips, a determined gaze, Kara nodded to herself, giving Lena’s hands a small squeeze.
“You don’t need a spell to enchant me,” Kara said, her voice shaking. “You don’t need a spell to enchant anyone.”
“Enchant-” Lena paused, her eyes darting between Kara’s.
“I’m not- I’m not expecting us to change, Lena. I just want you to know. Anyone would love you, you just have to put yourself out there, to find the person you want.”
Lena raised her hand to cup Kara’s cheek. “Kara…”
It was sweet, how shy Kara was, how her cheeks burned red - Lena was sure that hers was a matching shade - and yet the kryptonian sought only to give comfort. Lena smiled, as she tilted Kara’s head up, as the kryptonian looked back at her with those deep uncertain blues.
Lena smiled. “You enchant me too.”
#this is to make up for the psyche damage of my last 2 ficlets#it's already tomorrow somewhere (in my country even!!) so may as well post#supercorp#supercorp ficlet#mel writes ficlets#supercorptober#supercorptober2023#fazedlight#fazedlightgifs
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╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮
— blinded
╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯
**edited timeline, aged up to in early twenties
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪
Maybe it was your feelings from Ethan that blinded you from seeing how horrible he truly was. After just murdering someone, someone you must have cared for, you were only focused on getting off from the feeling of a hilt of a Buck 120 buried all the way down to the blade in your soaked cunt.
“God, you’re such a fucking whore,” Ethan spoke, blood splattered on his face as he stared down at your trembling thighs, rutting hips, and squelching pussy. “Look at you… getting off on having a fucking knife inside of you.”
You wailed softly, sobbing as you reached up to cover your mouth, your stomach twisting as your mind blurred. This was bad, horrible. How could your boyfriend of almost two years do this? “Pl-Please, please Ethan… I’m almost there, please!”
He laughed cruelly, humming. “Watch… when I keep fucking murdering people, they’re going to find all your cum all over their body and we’ll be fucking tied to each other forever. Would you like that? Hm?”
His words make your stomach clench, pussy fluttering around the hilt of the blade making him laugh, watching your hips squirm. “Yes! Oh my god, yes! Ethan, I need to cum, I need to cum!”
He smirked, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your tear stained cheek. “You’re such a pathetic little slut. You’re so lucky I love you… that I want to fuck you and get you pregnant so no matter what happens to me, this world will never be able to escape my bloodline.”
A whine falls from your lips as you gripped onto the black cloak he wore, mindlessly nodding along with his words. You were so fucked out and obsessed with him, you didn’t care what he did, as long as he only did it to you and you only. “Yes! Yes, I want to get pregnant, please please please…” you babbled endlessly before a yell of your name makes you snap out of it.
Ethan smirked, tilting his head. “Who was that?”
Quickly shaking your head, you continued to roll your hips. “P-Probably Tara.. please, I need to cum-”
“Ah ah,” Ethan tutted, shaking his head. “I need to get out of here baby… maybe take her with me.”
You quickly shake your head, trying to divert him from your best friend. “W-Wait! Please, don’t hurt her! Please… please, I’ll do anything… I’ll get pregnant with your baby, please…”
He laughed, pulling the knife out of you making you whine, shaking your head. “You think that was a choice? I’m going to cum inside of you so much that you’re going to be leaking it for days,” he basically growled out, this new side of Ethan making your cunt clench around nothing as his knife grazed your skin. “Now… where should I mark you, hm? So they don’t know I fucked you like a whore with a blood stained knife.”
“Anywhere!” You sobbed, watching as his knife nicked at your arm before leaving a soft trail on your forearm. “E-Ethan!”
“Sh, baby,” he whispers, kissing at your cheek. “Gotta go. I won’t hurt Tara, just for you. I expect you to be prepped and ready for when I sneak into your room tonight and fuck you until all you can think about is having my child.”
His words made your stomach clench, cumming around nothing as he laughed cruelly, giving a firm slap to your cunt. “That’s a good girl… you better be ready when I get to your dorm room.”
When you got home after making a police statement, you crashed onto your bed. You had already started working on stretching yourself out for Ethan to just come and use you like a whore, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. You had lied and said you had killed him, but what if he comes back? What would you do then?
“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” Ethan’s voice makes you jump, standing at the edge of your bed, pumping his cock languidly as he stares at your stilled fingers in your cunt.
“I-I told them I killed you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Th-That I stabbed you and that I think you’re dead somewhere.”
“Good girl,” he praised you, slowly crawling onto the bed and holding your wrist, pulling out your hand and pushing your fingers into his mouth. He groaned loudly at your taste, using his other hand to push into you and snap his hips forward. You screamed out as he lets your hand fall to his shoulder, kissing your cut forearm as he continued to roll his hips. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you baby… had to make sure they weren’t suspicious.”
“I-It’s okay,” you whisper back, shaking your head. “I can take it.”
He smiled, letting his tongue trail over the medical tape. “Can you? Hm?”
You whined, nodding as his hips started to move faster, groans falling from his lips as he desperately tried to speed up his thrusts. “I’ll take anything you give me.”
He groaned as he threw his head back- you really were a perfect little whore for him. Anything he said you’d obey, anything he did you’d take- it was just perfect.
“Fuck, you did such a good job that I’m about to cum,” he groaned, watching as you nodded mindlessly.
“Yes! Yes, I’ll take it!” You whimpered, throwing your head back. “I’ll take it, I’ll take everything-!”
A scream fell from your lips as he quickly took your legs over his shoulders, pushing you back enough so that he could fuck you at a new angle, ragged grunts falling from his lips. “Fuck… fuck, fuck!”
A groan fell from your mouth as you felt his cum spurt into you, warm and sticky as your stomach clenched and you came just at the feeling, whimpering softly as he continued to roll his hips. “You know I love you, right?”
You nodded mindlessly as he stroked your face, tilting his head. “Good… good, pretty girl, because I’m too fucking obsessed with you to lose you.”
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© asterias-record-shop
#asterias-record-shop#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry#ethan landry smut#ethan landry x fem!reader#ethan landry x you#ethan landry x y/n#scream#scream fanfic#scream six#scream vi#scream movies#ethan landry scream#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry fluff#ethan landry x fem!reader smut
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indebted | mikage reo
( ? ) reo spends money on someone who refuses to be indebted to anyone, FLUFF I SWEAR
( A/N ) why are my bllk fics literally about meeting again i think i have some strange obsession with this trope. ANW THIS FIC IS SOOO CLICHE but i think reo is cheesy like that
the sky is a pretty shade of blue, birds are chirping sweet songs from where they’re perched on branches, and cherry blossom leaves are floating along the wind; some are even pooling around his feet. love is in the air, one could say. pluck out every element you could see in a high school-inspired love song music video, and you’ll get precisely what reo is experiencing.
but none of those are what reo is looking at right now.
no, not when you’re standing before him, and his pulse is unsteady.
“i like you,” you say. “i want to go out with you.”
reo’s eyes go round, spluttering syllables that are strung together hastily. he settles with a: “w-whuuu…”
the small group of students who decided to tag along with reo all gasped and ooh?. reo doesn’t know why he’s the one feeling mortified, heat crawling up across his cheeks.
you’re staring at him with a fierce expression, refusing to back down and shy away despite the crowd. it’s like you don’t care what they think or say so long as you get your words across. he honestly respects it.
reo scratches the back of his neck, guilty for some unfamiliar reason. he’s gently rejected countless others before, so he’s unsure why he’s so reluctant this time. maybe it’s because you’re looking at him like you know what you want, and it’s making him feel flustered in a way he hasn’t felt before.
“don’t just stand there, reo!” someone butts in, as if it’s his business. as if he’s confessing or being confessed to.
you and reo turn to glare venom at the guy, who shrinks under both your gazes.
reo’s gaze finds yours once again, trying for a comforting smile.
“i’m sorry. i can’t accept your confession,” he murmurs and winces at the feigned cries of the people around him. his heart pangs painfully in his chest when he sees your crestfallen expression. “i really am sorry!” and he is. “i bet you’re nice—“
you hold up a hand, a universal sign to shut the hell up, you’re making it worse, idiot. “it’s fine. you don’t have to say anything else aside from a ‘no’, reo-san.” the smile you give him is pretty painful. or is it painfully pretty? “thank you for your time.”
reo blinks when you swivel around. he feels incredibly horrible, to be frank.
reo watches you leave until you’re out of sight, only snapping out of it when nagi shoulders him to tune back into the laughter of his classmates, teasing him relentlessly about the confession.
“man, are you always this nice to your fans?” one of them snickers. “you’re sick for leading the l/n y/n on.”
reo frowns. “i’m not leading them on, i’m just trying not to be an ass to people who admire me, unlike some people.”
“oooh…”
reo sighs, leaning against nagi’s terrifyingly solid figure. “y/n, huh?” he mumbles.
the hallways are unusually empty today. reo is usually swarmed by students from his class or even others, especially during the hour of lunch break.
there seems to be an influx of students crowding downstairs, though, judging by the faint cheers he can hear all the way from the fourth floor.
someone passes him, brushing his forearm, and reo almost ignores it.
“oh, hi, reo-san!” the voice says, and it snaps him right out of his wondering.
reo blinks, doing a double take. “ah, y/n.”
you skid to a halt, facing him over your shoulder with a pleasantly surprised expression. “you know my name already?”
reo feels caught, somehow. he doesn’t know what to say, so he nods and smoothly switches subjects. “where are you runnin’ off to?”
you don’t move from where you’ve stopped, and reo feels the need to catch up, so he jogs like an obedient dog. the nearly terrifying grin you shoot him does little to cover your amusement. “you’ve been spacing out during class, top of the class? there’s a parade going on right now for the school festival, i’m heading down to watch.”
oh. so that’s where everyone went.
in reo’s defense, he went to the bathroom minutes before break—most likely when the teacher announced anything regarding a parade. and nagi is nowhere to be seen to inform him about it. knowing nagi, he’s hiding away on some random floor’s stairs to play games on his phones quietly.
reo nudges you with an elbow and realizes halfway through that he never asked if you’re even okay with him doing that. he clears his throat, “let me come with you, then.”
“c’mon, pretty boy.” you pick up the pace, and he could’ve tripped on air hearing that. “don’t make me miss out on the fun waiting for a snail like you.”
reo makes a show of scoffing, but he can’t hide the smile in his voice.
you both make your way downstairs, chatting idly all the while. it’s small talk—mindless, almost, but reo finds himself relaxing quickly in your presence like he didn’t just meet you yesterday. like you didn’t just ask him out, and he rejected you yesterday.
“ahh, the stalls are up already?” you frown, scanning the area and onto the line of students swarming the field. “i thought they wouldn’t be serving anything this early.”
“if it’s what you’re worried about, it’ll be my treat,” reo finds himself offering without thinking.
“will it, now?”
minutes later, you two find yourselves walking out of the line of stalls with bags of snacks and street foods (even trinkets you weren’t planning to buy but reo wanted you to have). it was all a blur. reo didn’t know he could start from roaming the hallways to having a nearly empty wallet with you by his side.
blinking incredulously at the heap of bags slung over your forearms, you say, “i’ll pay next time.”
reo shrugs, pleased with himself but trying so hard not to show it. “it’s fine.”
“what? no, it’s not fine. i’ll pay you back,” you say, stern. there is no room for dispute.
“it’s really no big deal…” and it’s not. he gets enough money to fill up his wallet easily once more. upon seeing your glare, he concedes. “fine, do what you want.”
your bright smile at that response makes him realize something about you.
reo is ashamed to say it, but ever since yesterday, he’s been noticing you more and more often.
it’s embarrassing to admit that he hasn’t paid attention before, but it’s even more embarrassing to realize that he keeps finding you everywhere—it’s almost incredulous to think that he has never met you earlier.
what’s worse is that reo is excited when he does catch sight of you.
images of your moment with him come to him in a flash, and he almost fucks it all up by approaching you out of nowhere—he could, but he doesn’t know what you still think of him after that. he, for one, would feel as if he’s being pitied when the person he confessed his feelings to starts coming up to him without any good reason.
that’s the thing: reo can’t think of a good reason.
“stop overthinking,” is all nagi says to reo’s mindless rambling of his current crisis (read: above). “you shouldn’t look too deep into it, idiot. if y/n can confess to you just because, then y/n can tell you to screw off if you make things weird.”
that is surprisingly a piece of very reasonable and thought-provoking advice.
“okay,” reo says. it makes sense.
he doesn’t have to do anything, though, because nagi looks up from his phone, sees something, and tells him reo can just text him what happens because he’s heading straight home.
“what? what? where are you going, nagi?”
“reo-san—” reo jumps in surprise, “—sorry, did i scare you? haha, that was cute!” he turns and sees you grinning up at him, impudent like you hear precisely what is going in his head.
“y/n,” he says, horrified to feel sudden warmth crawling up his cheeks. how do you keep doing that? “when did you…”
“are you free? i still have to pay you back, don’t i?”
he wants to say that if you feel like you owe something, you don’t, and reo doesn’t care about the money he spent on you, seeing how much fun you had yesterday. yet the excitement evident in your voice kills off the rebuttal on the tip of his tongue.
reo finds himself laughing, mostly out of disbelief. “alright.”
you beam, his expression softens, and the sunset is beautiful this afternoon.
“come on, i know this really good place,” you tell him, reaching for his hand like it’s natural. reo’s eye catches on the charm dangling on your bag. his heart does something weird when he realizes it’s what he picked out for you. “you mentioned you like ichibo steak yesterday, right? you’re in luck.”
reo should really get checked up. he’s been feeling incredibly warm lately.
you two decide to ride a taxi. reo texts nagi that he is out on a platonic—emphasized platonic, in bold, italic, and even underlined—date with you, as friends, and all because you felt guilty. the sticker nagi sends in return says he does not care.
along the way, you two fall into easy conversation once again. reo feels so relaxed that he doesn’t realize until later how wide his grin is. and when he does, it’s when he starts to notice everything else, too.
“it’s weird! i just passed them, and they gave me weird looks. i wanted to square up and ask, what? you wanna fight? i would beat them, no doubt,” you say, huffing. reo chuckles a little. at the sound, you pout. “what’re you laughing at? you don’t believe me?”
“of course i believe you.”
you grin. “that’s right.”
the car stops, and you pay for the ride before reo could even blink and lead him outside. your enthusiasm is endearing, reo has to admit. it feels like you actually like him and like being with him.
the gentle hold you have on him, the way your fingers are absentmindedly rubbing circles on his skin, the way his brain is melting out of his ears—when did he get so soft like this? it’s insane.
it probably means he is happy to have you as a friend, right?
in a seat for four people, reo pointedly decides to sit next to you because sitting across would make it look weird—it will feel like an actual date, and reo is not sure how he can handle the thought of that.
you don’t question it, and reo feels embarrassed to think you probably think he’s so strange that you don’t blink at it. instead, you tug him closer by the sleeve, pointing at his favorite food with sparkling eyes. it’s adorable. you’re so damn excited that it’s rubbing off on him.
reo’s mouth again runs off before his brain can catch up. “are you alright with us hanging out like this? after…”
you understand immediately. reo can’t quite see your expression properly because you’re leaning down to study the menu; however, your answer seems unfazed: “i don’t mind. i like you, don’t i? you already knew that, so that’s a silly question.”
you turn to him, smiling. “of course i’d like being with you, too.”
“ah.” reo’s face is on fire. “so… why did you even like me?”
“hm.” you make a motion of rubbing your index finger and thumb together. “money.”
reo eyes you with a scrunched nose, speechless.
you laugh brightly. “kidding! kidding! kind of.” reo nudges your knee with his as a warning. “okay, okay. i thought you’re cute, alright?”
“really?”
“really.”
it’s almost enough to make him forget how your face fell when he rejected you. almost.
is it normal to think about that so much?
(no. the answer is no, obviously. but reo doesn’t want to think about the reason why it’s a no.)
reo slouches against the seat, his arm brushing against your side. “oh.”
“that was so good,” reo groans. he burps inelegantly afterward, laughing along with you. “fuck, you were right. i’m coming back here again.”
you snort, waving your fork around. “i told you! i’m never wrong, don’t doubt me about anything ever again.” there’s sauce on the side of your mouth; reo brushes it off with his thumb without thinking, as if in a trance.
you pause, going still. you’re staring at him wide-eyed, flustered, and reo finds himself thinking that he likes that look on you.
he snaps out of it the second after, blushing profusely. “sorry, i don’t—” to save himself from explaining, he calls for the waiter for the bill instead. real smooth, reo. did it like a real rich kid.
“hey, wait, why are you paying?” you ask, frowning.
“you already paid for the ride earlier, remember? you don’t owe me anything right now, so let me pay.”
“reo—”
the waiter comes, reo scans the receipt quickly, and slips money in. he also tells them to keep the change, to which the waiter starts bowing and thanking him for, which probably means he paid them more than he’s supposed to.
you slump, bottom lip jutted out. “now i’m indebted to you again.”
reo grins. “i know.”
you become something else to him entirely. more than friends, though not quite lovers. tip-toeing lines, ready to risk it all, but never crossing over.
reo laments this to nagi, who he realizes suddenly becomes an expert.
“for someone who didn’t hesitate to reject y/n, you’re quick to regret it every day,” nagi remarks. “don’t be stupid, reo. the answer is right there— oh, i lost.” nagi is sad now, not that reo can see it because he’s having a crisis.
by the time reo realizes that what he feels for you is more than a simple crush, it’s far too late. he’s on the bus, your last message with him is a goodbye, and his life is flipped upside down.
TIMESKIP
reo sits alone on a bench in the middle of a public park, holding a popsicle and checking his watch occasionally. his knee bounces, impatient, but his last text will stay as: i’ll wait for you no matter how long.
he sighs, his head slowly tilting up to face the sky.
it’s as beautiful as he remembers it—the day he regrets more than anything. all that’s left is for birds to chirp and leaves to dance around his feet.
he had to reject his friends’ offer to go out, as it’s not often blue lock members are given off days. however, it’s a small price to pay if he gets to see you again.
“i’m here!”
reo nearly jolts in surprise, his whole body instinctively preening at the familiar melody of your voice. he turns, and his heart bursts.
it’s been so long. too long. yet every detail about you is still the same as he daydreams about when it gets a little too lonely: from your smile to the way you’re looking at him with overwhelming fondness. there’s no mistaking it—the happiness tickling his chest says more than words could.
he is so fucking in love.
you stand there, a little nervous and hesitant like you’re ready to run with one wrong move.
so reo won’t fuck this up. not anymore or ever.
“y/n,” he breathes, tugging you by the arm to pull you closer. “i missed you.”
“i missed you, too,” you say, melting in his grasp. “i didn’t think you’d— i didn’t expect you to still want to see me after high school.”
“don’t be stupid,” he chides, gently flicking your forehead. “of course i’d want to see you.” your gaze shifts to the plastic he’s holding in his other hand, and he almost smacks his face for forgetting. “right, here. i bought you ice cream because it’s a bit hot today. thought you’d like it.”
“so thoughtful,” you coo, poking his cheek before gratefully taking the popsicle from him.
he pats the vacant spot next to him. it took all his willpower and rationality to not gesture his lap.
“um,” you fidget, tongue darting out quickly to lick on the icy treat. reo is not getting distracted, he’s not. “what was the question you said you wanted to ask? that text almost made me want to chuck my phone across the room, you know? we haven’t talked for months, and that’s the first thing you send me.”
“sorry,” reo can’t help but chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “i just want to do this before i regret anything again.”
“you have regrets with me?” you frown, hurt.
reo nods, and fuck it, reaches out to cup your chin. there’s a smidge of melted ice cream; he swipes it away with a thumb. “the day we met,” he says distractedly.
there’s a moment where you can only look at him incredulously, a little offended. but understanding dawns on your face soon after. “that was the day i confessed.”
he nods, proud. “you’re still indebted to me, aren’t you?”
“yes? you made sure you were the last one to pay for anything when you won me that plushie at the arcade a week before you left,” you recall fondly.
“alright, then.” reo takes your free hand to pull you closer to him, stunning you to silence. the popsicle starts melting at the sides—it could be from the heat or from how intense reo is staring at you. “pay me back by going out with me. as your boyfriend.”
THIS IS SO RUSHED I KNOWWW but take it and appreciate it please i dont even kno where the reo brainworms came from
#606:BLLK#reo mikage x reader#reo mikage x you#x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock x y/n#blue lock fanfiction#blue lock x you#bllk x reader#bllk reo x reader#mikage reo x reader#mikage reo imagines#mikage reo fluff#bllk fanfic#blue lock fluff
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me tengo que ir
ona batlle x reader
i’m honestly not quite sure what this is but i’ve been obsessed w me tengo que ir by karol g for the past few days and couldn’t get it out of my head
i doubt this makes ANY sense and i’m sorry that all the dialogue is in spanish but it felt weird for them to have this convo in english and so it’s all weird and spanglish-y but it’s just me being (slightly) tired of writing various other things and needing a mental break
[…]
Ona comes at night, covered by the darkness, comforted by the blanket it brings. It is black enough for her to look down and not see the red on her hands, not see the words spelled out in front of her. She chooses not to see the crime she has committed, but she knows that she is the one who created a law to break.
It was one thing to date a Madrid player while she wore black and red, safely tucked away in Manchester where she could support your enemy through the TV. It is another thing to continue the secret while she dons the jersey of your opposition, or vice versa.
And so, Ona comes at night.
Your family home, somewhere along the train tracks of Barcelona to Zaragoza, is unlit when her knuckles rap on its grand wooden door.
Once upon a time, seeing you would have set her heart ablaze. Her heart would race and her ears turn pink, and you’d laugh, call her sweet, maybe tease her for being so affected.
But now it is different, because Ona playing for Barcelona and you playing for Madrid is not the same as mysterious flights out to Manchester or extended stays in Spain. Is she embarrassed that two colours have come between you? Perhaps, but it is not like anyone will ever find out.
You don’t finish your greeting before Ona is kissing you. Halfway over the threshold of an old home and the dark outdoors, she cups your cheeks, your neck, the jut of your hips as you push yourself into her.
When her lips hit yours, tongue hungry, teeth unforgiving, you have to shut your eyes so that you do not cry.
You no longer feel anything.
Later, sweaty and lounging in bed, Ona’s smooth legs free themselves from the fabric of the bedsheets. You are just about to fall asleep, feeling alone although Ona is by your side, but you stir at the movement. At her restlessness.
Before, you struggled to convince her not to stay. You’d pry off clingy fingers and wandering hands, and then pack a suitcase with the added weight of an extra body hanging off your own. You would never let her miss her flight home – it was a mutually kept secret – but she would never be able to leave without saying the longest of goodbyes.
“Me tengo que ir,” Ona grants you as her feet hit the tiled floor of the guest bedroom, careful to not wake the dogs your parents have left you to look after while they visit your aunt in the city for the night.
“¿Ahora?” Your question remains practical for now, and you would like to keep it that way until the conversation crosses the line of breaking up. She dares to look you in the eye. “¿Cómo vas a llegar a casa?”
“En coche.”
“¿El coche de quien?”
“El mío,” she mutters. “Cupra Formentor.”
Ah.
A Barcelona car.
“Sabes que puedes dormir aquí, conmigo,” your question fails to fall into its category. It sounds more like an accusation and she prickles underneath the slight frustration in your tone.
“Eso no quiero,” comes Ona’s whispered response. “Puede que duermas conmigo, pero ya no te siento, bebé. Entonces, ya me tengo que ir.”
“No tienes que irte. Nunca tienes–”
“¡No fue suficiente!”
You both saw this coming a while ago. You were not privy to the calls she made, nor the contracts drafted to bring her home, but you sensed their existence and watched as the end of your relationship came hurtling towards you.
You let her get settled, even played your first match against each other in a sold-out stadium. You overlooked how her eyes would not meet yours as you lined up, and how she seemed to avoid the softness of your embrace until the very moment your Madrid colours were removed and you no longer were her enemy.
You are not sure how you became Ona’s enemy.
“Haré que sea suficiente. Podemos hacerlo suficiente juntas.” Ona watches as you gauge the severity of her words, watches as you surge upright and drop the sheets from your naked body in sheer desperation. “Tú me amas, y yo te amo. Ningún equipo de fútbol se interpondrá entre nosotras. Ningún compañero te pedirá que me dejes como si fueras Romeo y yo Juliet.”
Ona’s jumper is pulled over her head, the material rubbing away her tears. “Es un bonito cuento de hadas que me cuentas, pero esto no vale el cuento que me inventes.”
“Eres mi todo, Ona.”
“Vivimos como si no nos conocemos. Estamos grandes, bebé. Date un favor.”
“¡Era el secreto tuyo! De Alexia, de Mapi, de Leila.” Your voice breaks and you notice through the tears in your eyes that she is fully dressed and you are exposed like a worthless mistress in some medieval brothel, abandoned by her knight in shining armour and left to fend for herself. Which is absurd for you to feel, because you are not that kind of person and Ona should not be able to cause you this amount of devastation. “Era tu secreto y yo estaba de acuerdo porque te quer–”
She doesn’t let you finish. She doesn’t want to hear you say it. “No me voy sin dispedir, pero tú sabes que me toca ir.”
You think back to the turns you have taken. Left, right, dodging obstacles. Arguments, misunderstandings, pleas to be something proper – pleas from both sides. Moments in which someone else almost knew, was almost told… Was never told.
It reminds you of something someone once asked you. A stupid philosophical question sent into an awkward silence just to spark a conversation at a forgettable first date long before Ona and you ever considered sleeping together. If a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it, does it make a sound?
If a relationship is born and dies, but no one knows about it, does it even exist? Does it matter, does it mean anything?
Ona looks so small against the high arch of the doorway separating her from her way out. Shoulders hunched, eyes barely managing to stay open, let alone meet yours that would get on their knees if they were able to.
You realise that you have taken so many turns that you have gotten lost. In doing so, one of you lost.
(You.)
And suddenly, you come to another realisation: life is tough. Life is tough and it sucks and girls like Ona will fuck you up as though a year and half is worth a lackluster three hours of sex and a watery goodbye that is more hurtful because neither side has the desire to fight any harder for the failing relationship you are holding onto.
Your words grow empty from where they linger in the air. Maybe they always were.
“Me tengo que ir,” Ona finally repeats, breaking the thoughtful silence. “Hay un partido mañana y… pues es tarde.” She catches your sentence before you speak it. “No me voy a quedar aquí. Ya no vamos a hacer esto. Vamos a dejarlo.” You nod. “Me vas a dejar, y yo, tú.”
“No me amas.”
“Tampoco fue que no intentamos.”
“Pero no me amas.”
Ona falters; she does not wish to tell a lie. But she is standing here, in your family home, and she does not want these walls to see your confusion tear you apart.
“No te amo.” Silence. “Ya me tengo que ir.”
#woso x reader#woso imagines#woso#woso fanfics#barca femeni#ona batlle x reader#ona batlle#randombush3
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I get so excited when I see you post Dallas stuff, your fics are great! Could you do a fic where reader x Dallas celebrate their anniversary? And Dallas is pretty nonchalant and forgetful but he ends up still making it special? Thanks!
the moonlight only enhances your beauty ꨄ︎
dallas winston x reader
✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ
ugh i’ve been in such a funk i haven’t been wanting to write for a while and idk what’s wrong w me but i’m sorry guys!! i’ll try to keep up more, i’ve just been having to focus on my music pieces and festivals so i���ve been pretty busy :((
✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ
reader wears a nightgown, some cussing, literally a crap ton of descriptions of the moonlight and how it frames things bc i’m obsessed with describing it 💕
✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ
1184 words, 6437 characters
. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄
“i don’t want to talk to you right now, dal.”
“c’mon!” he whined, dragging out the ‘n’ as his eyebrows raised and his eyes downturned in a puppy dog manner. you looked back at the clock, currently 11:47pm and you assumed maybe five minutes earlier those noises you heard outside weren’t stray cats fighting, it was dallas trying to get the ladder to come up to your window.
today was horrible, it was your anniversary, and he had the audacity to forget and then show up at your house begging for another chance to get you to go out with him? at eleven-fucking-forty-seven?
you had to admit, his brown eyes always made you give in no matter how stern you tried to be. whether they were slanted with a vindictive cat like stare, or big and dopey like a sad kicked puppy. you just couldn’t say no to them, even if you tried to put your foot down, this was still the case.
“dallas—“
he cut you off with a huff of your name, “just twenty minutes, that’s all i’m askin’ for, jeez.” you rolled your eyes as his facade dropped, the innocent act quickly shifting back to his regular curt tough nature. but nonetheless, you couldn’t say no. dallas winston always got what he wanted.
you walked away, dally’s eyes trailing after your figure as you walked into another room. your silk nightgown glowed in the moonlight as the creases took on a darker color as they shaded themselves, the blue-ish hue illuminating the rest of your body as you slipped away. dallas scoffed as he was about to climb back down the ladder before he head a faint, “wait.”
his eyes flickered back, watching as you emerged from the other room, only this time, with each step you took came a small clack sound. dallas looked down to see you in your shoes as you held up your jacket to show him.
“only twenty minutes, right?”
“yeah, yeah.” he muttered, watching as the bare skin was covered up by a dark coat of fabric, the zipper glimmering a bit as the moonlight shone on the silver lining before you turned around and made your way downstairs.
“so extra.” dally whispered before he climbed back down the ladder, careful to observe the ground and his feet while he stepped down each bar. the metal was cool beneath his hands, the warmth radiating off him instead because of how much he stuffed his hands in his pockets. the ladder’s paint was chipping off, revealing a silver coat underneath as it creaked with each movement dal made before finally, he spotted you coming out through the front door, back hunched as you tip-toed out.
“this better be good.” you mumbled, shaking your head as dallas carelessly left the ladder against your window and took you by the arm. he led you across town, and you thought to yourself that maybe you should’ve worn pants as you looked at your bare legs sticking out from underneath your nightgown.
with the cool breeze and your free hand—the one that wasn’t wrapped around dallas’ arm—clutching your gown so it wouldn’t fly up, it felt like you two had been walking forever. only the crickets and owls accompanied you with their songs sung in the night as you both walked through the empty streets of tulsa, careful to be on the lookout for any socs driving around in their pristine mustangs with their cigarettes hanging from their hand outside the car window.
you two finally made it to a small summer green turf, planted cautiously behind a few shops in the tall grass so nobody would steal it. “now wait ‘ere.” dallas told you, flicking the bridge between your eyebrows where your nose started as he jogged over to what looked to be a small blanket.
you cocked your head in bemusement, watching as he brought out his lighter and popped the cap open, trying to flick it on. a string of curses escaped his lips as it took a minute to start, but once it finally did he leaned down and positioned his back to light something you wouldn’t see. you stood on your tippy toes as you tried to see above before dallas snapped the lighter shut, shaking his hand once or twice to get rid of the burn from keeping the lighter open too long, and turned around to walk over and grab you by the arm.
you smiled once you took in the sight, already seeing what dallas was planning when he dragged you over there. it was a small blanket, one so small it probably wouldn’t even have enough space for the both of you, with two candles in the middle and a few snacks like cookies and packs of fruit around them. you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as dallas smoothed his hair back, licking his slightly chapped lips as he intently watched you for a reaction.
you simply glanced at him and nodded your head to the side, signaling for him to join as you took a seat on the blanket. it was just as you expected, barely big enough to fit the both of you on it, but you didn’t care. all the anger from the day melted away as you watched dallas twiddle his thumbs when he sat beside you, pressing his lips together awkwardly.
then the small candles blew out once a small gust of wind came over the two of you.
dally mumbled a few profanities as his hand made its way back in his hair, smoothing it out to get rid of the reminding feeling of how nervous—the slight sweat on his forehead making his hair stick to it.
but oh glory, when you let out a small laugh, the sound falling from your lips as smooth as honey, dallas could’ve sworn he had heart palpitations—even if he’d never admit it.
and when you looked at him, the blue moonlight shone on your face just right. the glossiness of your teeth and the highlights on your nose seriously made you look like a work of art, your eyes getting that small glimmer in them as their corners crinkled when you grinned. dallas almost died right then and there.
when you looked at him, watching as the corners of his lips—although subtle—twitched upwards at the sight of you, your smile just got even bigger.
it was comical to you. the man sitting in front of you was dallas winston. who would’ve known that when he wasn’t slashing tim shepard’s tires or stealing a few packs of kools from the convenience store, he would be sitting here in the moonlight on what his best affordable idea of a ‘picnic’ was with you. nobody could deny the fact that you had dallas winston whipped.
then you both proceeded to yelp as a stronger gust of wind started to blow away the small bags of cookies away, hurling yourselves over the blanket and clambering away to try to avoid the food flying off into the street.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this request was literally adorbs omg 😭
kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
#the outsiders x reader#the outsiders#fanfiction#x reader#dallas winston x reader#dallas winston#dallas winston headcanons#dallas winston blurb#dallas winston fanfiction#dallas winston imagine#dally winston#the outsiders dally#dally imagine#dally x reader#the outsiders dallas#dallas the outsiders#the outsiders fanfiction#ambrozjas#kiss kiss
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love LOVE loveyour latest stsg x reader fics.. something about them brings me so much comfort bc i just Knowww those two are constantly up to no good. and when it involves a certain oblivious, unsure, not so confident reader? they are sooo evil and i think so much teasing comes up between them so theyre always coming up with ways to tease her and get her all flustered for them. it probably starts with satoru who she caught his eyes first.. ever since then he probably makes it his mission to torment her and follow her like a puppy. and suguru notices that every time she appeara its like he doesn’t exist to satoru! hes not jealous no… if anything he becomes even More obsessed than satoru! and probably a more quiet eviler person to her!!! cant argue w me that suguru is probably the more cunning of the two!! anyways satoru teases her and she runs to suguru for help but hes evil and indulges in satoru’s playfulness so he doesnt give in!! sometimes he does!!
but oh my shoko… my beautiful shoko my lovely lady i love her. and reader is probably infuriated with her but having two overgrown lizards constantly bothering her.. i bet its hard for shoko to have reader all to herself …but!! reader has the biggest soft spot for her obviously she makes time for shoko and shoko 100% uses that to her advantage to bully the two bullies themselves that she has reader wrapped around her finger hah! reader can wear something really cute and maybe more revealing than most days and shoko will just rub herself over reader and the two boys will frown like kids getting their candy stolen :))) thru all of this, reader is clueless and just believes that shoko loves her!
anyways i love your writing so much!
anon, ur so sexy for being my first ever ask and it’s so detailed and long too. u deserve this fic.
eat up
laundry mishap (gojo x reader x geto, shoko x reader)
warnings: you let shoko grope you (willingly), 17+ rating, gojo and geto are hopeless, shoko is so attractive i’m going to scream, aftermath of my AO3 withdrawals
You steps were unsteady, hand desperately pressed onto the hem of your much shorter skirt, it’s length just hitting your mid-thigh as your unsteady gait made you stumble.
Your thigh-highs did little to cover your more exposed legs, unknowingly showing the zettai ryoiki to the world as the socks clung to your flesh, subtly highlighting the sexiness and shapeliness of your legs.
Your school blazer clung ever so tight to your figure, showing each curve and wind of your body. Much too different from your usual loose, ill-fitting uniform. Usually so baggy, your figure was so… Boxy looking.
“Do you ever get tired of looking like a sloth?”
Gojo inquired, staring you down through his sunglasses as he looked over your form. Your long skirt hung to your knees, blazer hanging off your form. The sleeves were so long they nearly swallowed your hands, stopping just shy of your palm as you crossed your arms protectively over yourself, as if embarrassed of your uniform choice.
“I’m just… More comfortable like this, Gojo-san…” You murmur, eyes casting downwards towards the floor. Did you really look… Bad? Was that why Gojo commented on your clothes? Did they really look as horrible as you thoug-
“Don’t tease her Satoru, I think she looks cute.” Suguru smiled, watching with glee as he watched you flinch, eyes growing wide and your face stance turning shy as your eyes finally left the ground, turning to face his own.
A cute, upwards quirk of your lips, polite and unsure, as if you didn’t believe him.
“Thank you, Suguru.”
Foolish, you were so foolish to trust Shoko with your laundry for the week.
“It only shrunk just a little!”
Your skirt is too short. That’s fine. You have stockings, they’ll cover them.
“Ah. Your… Stockings, you say?” Shoko tapped a thoughtful finger on her chin in mock thought. A hand tucked behind her back as she tapped her foot. She lets out a nervous huff, pulling out ripped, torn, absolutely devastated remains of your poor stockings.
…
…
…
“You can forgive me because I’m cute, right?”
(You did, in fact, forgive her because she was cute. And because she bought you your favourite chocolate milk from that specific vending machine at that very specific timing you claim has the best tasting milk.)
You huffed a little from running through the halls, the clock just about to hit 8:30 as you slid open the backdoor, attempting to make a sneaky entrance and slide into your seat next to Ieiri a quick and easy feat.
If counting how 4 pairs of eyes were solely trained on you for a summer draft accidentally slamming the door closed behind you counted as ‘sneaky’ anyway.
(Two pairs were absolutely shocked at your way of dress, whilst one was gloating with pride as she took in the sight of you before her. The last pair was apathetic and was more interested in trying to finish the class.)
“(last name), how quaint of you to finally join us. Take your seat.” Yaga-sensei drawled out, turning back around to the blackboard.
“Ahem, where was I?” He looks towards his notebook. “Ah, right. So Imperial Japan existed from 1868, the beginning of the Mei-“
You shyly hurried to Shoko’s side, watching her smirk as you blushed desperately, holding down your skirt and not noticing the two gazes basically pinning their eyes to you. Stuck gazes, watching the way your ‘new’ uniform highlighted your now more exposed frame. The way it clung tight to your chest, the fat of your thighs exposed from your skirt, the way your thigh-highs tightened around-
“Ieiri,” You whispered. “I feel naked…” You let out a quiet whine, adding to the two boys’ building frustration and wild imaginations.
“I think you look great.” The girl began. “So pretty.” She placed her hand on you, her fingers traced your sock-clad leg. “I didn’t know you had these.” Her fingers gently traced the outline of the sock.
You giggled. A quiet, cute melody. “Right?” Your voice barely above a whisper as you grabbed her hand to place it directly on your exposed thigh skin. “I got them a while ago, their quality is absolutely unmatched!”
Surprising all three at once as you let Shoko touch and explore to her heart’s content. Gojo audibly gulped as he watched Shoko’s fingers squeeze and play with the fat of your thigh, the zettai ryoiki absolutely driving him mad. He couldn’t possibly look away now.
Oh, how he would die to have his face buried in between the plushness of your legs as your hand tangled in his hair, begging, pleading him to stop because you just couldn’t handle it any-
Why were you looking at him so anxiously?
“Gojo.” The imposing figure of Yaga-sensei stood before his desk. “Since you can’t listen, you can stand outside for the rest of the lesson.”
Dammit.
Whilst Suguru was laughing at Satoru’s plight, he was fading no better at the sight of Shoko groping your legs. Especially not when you so adorably turned to face him, your eyes lighting up with a smile and shyly waving at him in greeting.
How he would love to turn that smile of yours into desperate whines as those legs of yours wrapped around his hips, bouncing and whining for him to let you co-
“Ah, Yaga-sensei. I can answer this one.” He raised his hand, regrettably turning his head away from you to participate in class.
Suguru has a gentleman’s role to play in front of you, afterall.
——
The bell rung, signalling the start of the lunch hour as Gojo finally strolled back into the classroom after getting a lecture from Yaga-sensei.
You caused him to get in trouble with how hot you looked today! (Not that he’s going to use that as an excuse in front of Yaga, of course.)
Compounded by his irritation and his lack of getting to ogle at you, Gojo was pissed. Especially when he saw you giggling at Shoko as Suguru stood by your desk, his arm brushing against your shoulder as you idly chatted with the both of them with the prettiest smile on your face.
Your glittery eyes caught sight of him walking towards you, an even prettier smile making its way onto your face. (Gojo was about to implode from cuteness. He cannot think right. His mind was on autopilot.)
“Ah, Gojo-san, good mor-“
“What, you gonna go to a strip club or something afterwards? What’s with the get-up?”
Ouch. Your smile slowly dropped as the weight of his words stung you. Subconsciously, your hands came around to wrap yourself in a self-hug.
Suguru stepped in. “Satoru, what the fuck? That was rude.” He stood in front of you almost protectively, shielding you from Gojo’s sight.
“What? Is she dressing like that to impress someon-“ Geto shoved the imposing boy.
Shoko’s turn. “Wow, way to impress girls, jerk.” Her stare was narrowed, eyes piercing and cutting into the white-haired sorcerer.
Suguru sighed. “Listen, man, that wasn’t cool. Cut th-“
“Suguru! It’s okay!” You didn’t want them to fight. Not because of you. You let out a little nervous laugh, arms tightening around yourself. “I- I probably look- Bad. I know. It’s a bit too new t-to me as well…”
The three looked at you, two with worry, and the last with regretful dejection. He shouldn’t just kept his mouth shut.
You stood up, still hugging yourself. “L-let’s get lunch, shall we?” Shoko’s arm came to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to her side as she began to lift your mood, chatting with you as the other 2 followed quietly behind.
Your skirt swished and swayed attractively as you walked, Shoko’s hand now around your waist as you began to laugh again, your voice a little bit more free, less constrained from your creeping insecurities and want to escape.
Did you really look that ugly…? You hope your new uniform order comes soon, you don’t want to be in this getup anymore if it-
You felt Shoko’s hand smack against your ass, yelping as you jumped slightly from the shock. Your eyes widened comically, you definitely weren’t expecting that whilst mid-conversation about clothes of all things.
(The audience behind you was seething in jealously.)
“Ieiri…! That’s in-inappropriate !” Your shy stuttering was so cute to her.
“And you,” Shoko began, her hand curling tighter around your waist. “Are the hottest thing I’ve seen today.” She grinned lazily. “Don’t sell yourself short, pretty.”
Ieiri is so attractive. Your blush encompassed your entire face as you looked away shyly, unable to hold her intense gaze.
“Y-you’re prettier…” You shyly began.
“Hmm? Can’t hear you.”
“Ieiri is the prettiest!”
——
Behind you, Geto was unabashedly tearing into Gojo.
“Real charming move today.”
“She- I- I tried to be funny.” Gojo paused, hands tucked into his pockets. “Saw how you were makin’ her laugh so much.”
“So funny, that nobody even laughed.” Geto let out a sigh. “We’re both gonna lose her favour if you keep that shit up.”
Gojo kept his silence, thinking back to the way you shrunk back into yourself. The way you lost your happy glow almost instantaneously. The way your eyes lost their shine, the shakiness of your hands.
He felt bad. He definitely feels bad. He doesn’t want to be the cause of your sadness.
“Shit. What do I do in these situations, Suguru?”
——
“Hey.” You stopped in your tracks, whirling around only to face the Gojo Satoru.
Holding… A bouquet of roses and a carton of milk.
He cleared his throat, pumping his chest up as he pushed the flowers up towards you.
“You’re… Not a stripper.”
(Hidden behind the corridor’s walls, Geto was facepalming and screaming internally.)
You stare at the flowers, at the carton of your favourite chocolate milk that Gojo had opened and drank from.
“Take them.” He shoved the bouquet in your face. “It’s for you.”
You confusedly accept them, holding them in both your arms as you looked up at the tall boy.
“Thank you… But… Why?” Are you being pranked right now?
“Apology. Duh.” Gojo paused, taking a sip for courage from the milk that was meant for you. “For, ya know… Saying you were trying to impress someone.”
You stay silent, eyes casting to the pretty bouquet.
“You look pretty today, by the way. Prettier than the flowers.”
Your eyes widened. The Gojo Satoru… Giving you a compliment? Your eyes shot towards him, only to find him scratching his head, glasses having fallen down slightly, revealing crystal blue eyes that were avoiding your gaze.
He’s cute.
You laugh. Out loud, free, and without restraint.
“Thank you, Gojo-san!”
Gojo thinks he’s never going to forget this sight.
masterlist
Notes:
You do not have any romantic feelings for Gojo or Geto at this moment, but you greatly, greatly admire them for their strength.
Shoko erupts the closest feeling to ‘being in love’ for you. You think you have a crush on her here.
Geto spent 2 hours teaching Gojo about all the things he knew about you, in order for him to form a proper apology to you on his own.
As Gojo approached you from afar with your favourite drink in hand and flowers, he got too nervous. He drank your milk himself to build courage, completely forgetting it was meant for you.
Shoko thinks of you as a cute existence. Lively, interesting and amusing to her daily life.
Gojo fell for you first, and Geto second, but Geto was more proactive and got closer to you first.
Gojo is insufferable. He thinks he’s cool but he’s just being an ass.
comment more pls, i really like feedback on my writings instead of just likes :(
#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#getou suguru x reader x gojo satoru#getou suguru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#shoko ieiri x reader#jjk x reader#whalewrites#dyf au
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