#or at least an explanation pretending to be fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bookyeom · 10 months ago

Text

pairing: s.coups x reader word count: 4.8k warnings: a couple of swears i think, kissing, people being bad friends and treating reader badly :(, a tiny bit of poor self-esteem on reader's end but not much, seungcheol gets a lil mad at one point but it's nothing crazy

Author's Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it's not necessary.

pov by ariana grande

i wanna love me the way that you love me for all of my pretty, and all of my ugly too i'd love to see me from your point of view cause nobody ever loved me like you do

You feel like you’ve been subject to an intervention.

You’d come over to pick up a sweater you’d left at Jeonghan’s, and now you’re sitting on his couch while both him and Soonyoung stare at you, arms crossed. You have the distinct feeling that you’re being judged.

“You’re here early,” Jeonghan finally says, and you immediately don’t like the tone of his voice.

“Yeah,” you say, slowly. “Junseok couldn’t make it last minute, so I just came straight here.” You don’t miss the look that passes between Jeonghan and Soonyoung, and you inwardly groan in preparation when you realize what’s about to come.

”Wow, he canceled?” Soonyoung says, sarcastic as ever.

“We’re so surprised,” Jeonghan follows, and you roll your eyes.

“Things happen,” you try, but your friends don’t even flinch.

“Yeah, they always seem to happen with him in particular, especially when you guys have plans. Poor guy.”

“Come on. Stop.”

Jeonghan smacks you on the arm, and you yelp. “He’s such a dick, Y/N. Break up with him.”

“We’re not dating! I’ve told you a million times that we’re just friends.”

“Does the fact that you’re just friends justify how he treats you?” Soonyoung asks, and that hits you, hard. Your shoulders slump, and Soonyoung sits next to you on the couch.

“He’s just forgetful,” you murmur, but even as you say the words, you don’t really believe them yourself.

“Hoshi is the most scatterbrained person I’ve ever met,” Jeonghan points out, “and even he remembers plans.”

The man in question appears offended for a brief moment, before quickly brightening up at the end of Jeonghan’s statement. “Yeah,” he nods solemnly in agreement. “I sometimes forget my sentences half way through. If I can remember making plans with my friends, so can he.”

You remain silent. You know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“You know who else never cancels on you, at least not without a solid explanation?”

You know where this is going, but you’re definitely going to pretend that you don’t. “Joshua? Seokmin? Love those guys. Truly the most loyal companions and —“

“Seungcheol not only sticks to plans, he also makes them with you first,” Jeonghan continues on, interrupting you, not even batting an eye as he ignores your pouting.

“And he’d probably rather poke his own eye out than cancel on you,” Hoshi supplies.

“He’s my friend,” you protest weakly. “Do you mean you guys wouldn’t gauge an eye out on my behalf?”

“No,” the two men opposite you answer at the same time, and you sink back into your seat with a huff.

“DK would,” you mumble.

“Yeah, but — bless his stupid ass — he’d do that for any of us,” Hoshi points out. “Seungcheol, on the other hand, thought it was funny to lock me out of the bathroom when I was hungover and needed to throw up last Saturday morning.”

“Okay, but Cheol told me that you spilled a bottle of vodka all over his new laptop while you were drunk and tried to cover it up,” you counter. Hoshi opens his mouth to retort, but Jeonghan cuts him off.

“Last week, he canceled lunch with Mingyu and I just because he didn’t want to get out of bed.”

“He had an exam the night before!” you protest, quickly jumping to Seungcheol’s defense in his absence. “For a really hard class, too! He was telling me about it when he came over to study.” The two men stare back at you pointedly, and you feel your cheeks flush. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan simply smiles, and it unsettles you. “Just that I’ve known Seungcheol for three years and I’ve never, not even once, seen him willingly study with someone else. He always talks about needing to focus alone.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, and try valiantly to hide it with your turtleneck sweater. “Maybe you guys are just annoying.”

“Or maybe he’s in love with you,” Soonyoung pipes up, a wide grin on his face, and you let out a whine.

“Stop,” you plead as the two of them high-five.

“You and Seungcheol are so annoying. If we’re talking about good ‘friends’,” Jeonghan puts quotation marks in the air around the word as he says it, “he should be at the top of your list. That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.”

”Are you saying you don't care about me?”

You’re trying to change the subject, and Jeonghan knows it. He glares at you. “We care about you enough to try and knock some sense into you, don’t we?”

“I’m leaving,” you announce, pushing yourself off the sofa, sweater in hand.

“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out as you pass through the threshold. “Can you take this, too?” He appears a second later as you’re tying your shoes, holding out a pair of socks. You raise an eyebrow in question. “They’re Cheol’s,” he explains. “I can almost guarantee you’re going to see him before I do.”

“How do you know that, Jeonghan?”

“When are you guys hanging out next?”

You squint at your friend for a moment, before you begrudgingly take the socks from his hand. “Tomorrow morning,” you murmur. You pointedly ignore Jeonghan’s laughter as you all but slam the door behind you.

“How was yesterday?”

“Hm?” You hum through a mouthful of food, glancing back up at Seungcheol.

You’re sitting across from him at your favourite cafe. It had been silent since your food arrived and you’d both shut up to shovel food into your mouths, so you’re surprised when he speaks up. You also have no idea what he’s referring to.

“You hung out with Junseok last night, right?” Seungcheol asks, and you wince.

“Oh,” you manage. “No, we didn’t end up getting together.”

Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate, clicking his tongue as he brings his coffee mug up to his lips. “Asshole.”

“Cheol.”

“What? He’s an asshole.” He sets his coffee down again, elbows on the table as he runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Did he cancel, or did you?”

You look back down at your food. “He did.”

Seungcheol simply nods, crossing his arms as he leans against the back of the booth. You’re reminded again of just how big his arms have gotten lately, and you try to shake the thoughts before your gaze lingers just a bit too long. “Of course he did.”

“He’s trying,” you mumble miserably, knowing it sounds lame, even to yourself. “He’s getting better at following through.”

The man in front of you raises his eyebrows. “Is he?”

“You’re being a dick.”

“I’m just telling the truth.” Seungcheol shrugs. “Why do you even like him?”

“I don’t like him like that anymore,” you mutter. “I haven't for a while. It was a dumb crush, Cheol, you know that. We’re friends now.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Okay, well, I’m your friend too. And as your friend, I’m telling you – he’s an asshole.”

This time, you don’t offer a rebuttal. You fall silent, pushing the eggs around on your plate. You can feel Seungcheol watching you, and you can practically hear his defenses lowering the longer you stay quiet. Usually, you can keep up with his banter and sass, but you know he can tell that you’re actually upset now. You’re tired of arguing. Deep down, you know he’s right, and you don’t have it in you to meet his gaze.

“Somebody who cares about you wouldn’t do stuff like that, friend or otherwise,” he finally speaks again, his voice softer now. “I know it sucks… but sometimes, it really is that simple.”

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“Hey.”

You make yourself look at him again, offering him as much of a smile as you can.

He smiles back, soft. “People care about you, okay?”

You nod. The longer he looks at you, the more you start to feel that electric current, that low buzzing that seems to take over your entire body whenever Seungcheol is close. Jeonghan’s words linger in the back of your mind as he finally looks away, breaking the tension between the two of you.

That man cares about you so much it’s kind of sickening.

You hate how downright… silly you feel.

”He promised he’d make it this time,” you sniffle, and Seokmin squeezes you tighter into his side. “He even booked the tickets. Why would you book the tickets and then cancel on the day of?”

“Once a liar, always a liar,” Jeonghan calls out from his kitchen.

“Once an asshole, always an asshole,” Seungcheol agrees. He’s leaning against the doorframe that separates the kitchen from the living room, and you don’t know why it hurts a little that he hasn’t tried to comfort you at all since you walked in. His comment only serves to upset you more, and you glare at him.

“Are you happy?”

Seungcheol blinks in surprise, turning back to you from where he was watching Jeonghan in the kitchen. “What?”

”Are you happy that you’re right? Do you feel good about it, Cheol?” You can feel Seokmin pat your shoulder comfortingly, but it doesn’t help — you’re annoyed now.

”What are you even talking about, Y/N?”

“You’re right — he’s an asshole. You’re right. You love being right, don’t you?”

The silence is almost palpable. Jeonghan has stopped moving in the kitchen, Seokmin is frozen next to you, and you can cut the tension in the room with a knife. Seokmin slowly moves to stand up, heading into the kitchen with Jeonghan, leaving the two of you alone.

“It’s not about being right,” Seungcheol finally says, and you avoid his gaze when he joins you on the couch. “All I care about is the fact that he should treat you better.”

Seungcheol’s tone leaves no room for argument, and you can feel your shoulders sag. You know that he’s right — and you hate it.

“I know,” you admit, and all of your misplaced anger drains from you in seconds. “I know he should,” you repeat, feeling your remaining defenses start to crumble. “So why won’t he?”

You say the last words so quietly that you’re surprised anyone hears you, but you know that at least Seungcheol has when his shoulders fall. You hear him inhale a breath, but you speak again before he gets a chance to say anything.

“I just don’t understand why I’m not worth the effort.” You can hear your voice crack, followed by silence, and then — you break. The tears are falling before you can stop them. You feel the couch shift as Seungcheol turns. Whatever hesitation he’d had about comforting you before seems to ease up as his hand finds your knee and gives it a gentle squeeze. You’re grateful, but you still can’t look at him.

“What about the people who do treat you well?” His tone is softer now, but you can tell he’s still upset by the tone of his voice. You don’t have a chance to answer before he speaks again. “I could tell you a million times how great I think you are, I could make a thousand plans to hang out, I could go on and on about how much I like being around you… but nothing will change until you figure out a way to believe me. I—“ He clears his throat. “We— care about you so much. All of us. We should be the people that matter.”

“But what did I do wrong? With him?”

Seungcheol’s hand on your thigh is gone in a flash. He stands up, and you miss his warmth immediately. “I don’t know what else to say,” he says, voice low. He’s angry, you can tell, but he would never admit to it.

You want to apologize, desperate to bring him back to you, but you’re frozen.

“I’m going to head out.” He doesn’t say anything more, doesn’t look back at you. Jeonghan and Seokmin appear from the kitchen, but no one says anything except for a ‘drive safe’, and then he’s gone.

It’s silent for a moment, and then you say, “I fucked up.”

To your surprise, Jeonghan doesn’t scold or tease you. He doesn’t even agree. Seokmin disappears back into the kitchen to tend to the food Jeonghan was cooking, but Jeonghan himself joins you on the couch with a sigh.

“Listen,” Jeonghan starts. “You and I are similar — we always tend to focus on the people that don’t care. We want to be loved, so when someone doesn’t put in as much effort as us, we feel like we have to figure out why. We want to know what we did wrong, even though we didn’t do anything wrong at all. We forget that there are tons of people that love us a lot already. I love you, for example.” Jeonghan pinches your thigh affectionately, before he juts his thumb in the direction of your front door. ”Or what about that guy? The one who just left my apartment, pissed, because you let someone make you question your worth? He cares about you without thinking twice. For him, it’s effortless. You’re worth it, and you’ve never had to prove that to us. You just are, and always have been.”

You’re officially crying now. You know you’ve really upset Seungcheol, and you know your friends are all right. You know it, you know they love you and you love them, but why don’t you believe that you deserve it?

“I should go home,” you say softly, but your hand squeezes Jeonghan’s in acknowledgement, in a quiet thanks.

“I won’t say anything else except for this,” Jeonghan says gently. “I know you think Cheol is worth it, too. Being with someone doesn’t always have to feel like effort.” He shrugs. “Sometimes, it’s effortless.”

You spend the next week thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until the ball drops and you finally just do it. You block Junseok on every social media, you delete his number, and you’re proud of yourself for it. You don’t message your friends back very much throughout the week. Seungcheol in particular has been radio silent, but you suppose you deserve that. You don’t reach out first, instead taking the time to process everything that’s happened, to process everything you’re feeling — and not just about Junseok.

You know that Seungcheol has always meant a little bit more to you than anyone else. Now, you’re wondering why you’ve never done anything about it — and you’re also wondering just how long you’ve been blind to the fact that Seungcheol most likely, almost definitely, likes you back.

Y/N [5:36pm]: early Galentines dinner at my place this Sunday at 7?

You receive an almost immediate thumbs up from Seokmin and Soonyoung.

Hannie [5:43pm]: yaaaaas

Wonu [5:44pm]: might be a bit late but I’ll be there

Kwanie [5:52pm]: NOOOOO I’m busy :(

Kwanie [5:52pm]: galentines?? WITHOUT ME????? UNBELIEVABLE

You smile at that, texting Seungkwan a private apology in a separate chat. Your heart jumps in your chest when you receive another notification, and you’re filled with relief so quick and intense that it feels like you’ve been doused in water.

Cheollie [5:58pm]: I’ll be there. Cheollie [5:58pm]: need help setting up?

You hug Seungcheol the second he walks through your door. He reciprocates, and you feel relieved and anxious and warm and fuzzy all at once.

Now, a half hour has passed, and neither of you have mentioned what happened the week before. He tells you about his week at work, and you hate the small talk but you know it’s all just the road back into the familiar ease of your friendship — so you participate. It’s only when you’ve finished getting ready for dinner, Valentine’s Day decorations and lights all strung up and ready to go, that he speaks up again. You’re preparing tea for the two of you when he catches you entirely off guard.

“Will Junseok be joining us tonight?”

You can feel your shoulders tense up. You can tell that it pains him to say it, but you also know he’s the brave one for even bringing it up. You take a deep breath.

“He’s not coming tonight, or any other night, actually.”

Seungcheol seems surprised as he hands you a mug from the cupboard before grabbing one for himself. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”

Seungcheol’s eyes follow you as you move across the kitchen to the kettle, pausing before speaking again. “I can tell.”

You turn back to him as you click the kettle on to boil, an eyebrow raised in his direction. “Was that sarcastic?”

The man smiles as he shakes his head. “No, I mean it. You seem happier than...” He trails off, but you both know what he’s thinking: than when I saw you last.

“I am,” you reply honestly, and it’s silent again for a moment before you both start to speak at the same time.

“Listen, I–”

“Hey, Cheol–”

You can feel warmth start to spread through you when he begins to laugh at your clumsiness — it had only been a week, but you’d missed that. You’d missed him.

“You first,” you offer, and he nods.

“I’m sorry that I was frustrated when I left the other day,” he says, and you tilt your head in surprise at his apology. He shrugs before continuing, “I shouldn’t have left like that… but in my defense, I didn’t know you’d disappear for a week.” He’s joking, and you smile a bit at that.

“I’m the one who should be sorry, Cheol.” He joins you at the counter and you begin to pour hot water into both mugs, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you can feel him next to you. It suddenly all feels so intimate, the way you’re making tea for him the way he likes it without him saying a word, the way he watches you move around in your kitchen as if he does it every day.

You turn to hand him his tea and when your eyes meet his, you feel a flush begin to creep up your neck to find him already looking back.

“I mean it,” you say softly, and he hums in response, eyebrows raising as he takes a sip and waits for you to continue. “I really am sorry for not being around the last couple of weeks.” You hop up onto the counter, legs dangling off of it as you wait for your tea to cool.

Seungcheol sets his mug down on the counter and sends you a soft smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It’s okay. I get it.”

You nod, looking down, and pick at a thread on your jeans. “Thanks,” you say quietly, but he knows you’re not finished speaking. His eyes don’t leave your face, and his fingers still grip onto the handle of his mug as he waits, ever patient, for you to gather your thoughts. “I’m still sorry, though. I was just so overwhelmed and didn’t want to deal with it, so I let everything build up to a breaking point.”

“I promise it’s okay,” Seungcheol repeats. He’s being genuine — you can hear it in his voice. Your eyes meet his again, and you almost wish they hadn’t because you have more to say, and you might lose all of the courage left in you if he keeps looking at you like that.

“Just… Just let me explain,” you request quietly, and he nods again. “I… I guess I just needed a bit of time to myself. To figure out what’s important to me.” You pause, choosing your next words carefully. “To figure out who is important to me.”

You can feel your cheeks flush as you finish. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you this whole time, and you think your heart is in your throat now as he continues to gaze at you.

“Yeah?”

Does he understand what you’re implying? Your eyes move to land on the dark strand of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. You suddenly feel a desperate need to reach out, to brush his hair back, to touch it. To touch him. Would he let you? Does he want that, too?

“Yeah,” you finally repeat, your quiet voice matching his as you meet his gaze again.

He moves then, slowly, almost as if he’s worried he’ll scare you off, shifting closer and reaching across your legs to set his mug in the sink. Your breath catches in your throat as he straightens back up in front of you, his now-empty hand falling to the counter beside your thigh. He’s standing right in front of you, caging you in between his arms, and you can’t look away.

“And what’s the verdict?” Comes his question, dark eyes searching yours.

“That I should start to focus more on the people that show me they care. Because those are the ones that I care about the most, too.”

The tension in the air is palpable.

Then his fingers gently, tentatively, brush against yours where they rest on the counter. He doesn’t do anything more, testing the waters, and it takes everything in you not to shiver. His gaze falls to your mouth, and you hold your breath — then he looks down and away from you, his eyes squeezing shut, and the moment is lost.

“Cheol?” You say carefully, desperate to get him to look at you again. He hums in response, but he doesn’t look up. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you feel like if you don’t say what you want to say right now, you never will. “Thank you.”

That seems to get his attention as he lifts his head to meet your gaze once more. You can tell he’s surprised as he murmurs, “For what?”

“For being here.” You’re not sure if that’s what you meant to say, or how you meant to say it, because it sounds far too simple for how you feel about the man in front of you. And then he smiles.

“Of course,” comes his reply. You watch as his smile grows and he says, “I was told there would be free beer.”

You blink at him for a moment, processing — and then you let out a single, surprised laugh. You feel some sense of relief wash over you as the tension between you breaks a little, as everything around you seems to soften. You feel a little bit like you’re glowing from the inside out, warm and fuzzy like the pink heart-shaped lights strung up around your apartment, and you wonder if he feels it, too. You’re starting to think that maybe he does.

“Cheol,” you say, and you offhandedly wonder why you’re saying his name so much. He grows serious again, but the lighter air between the pair of you gives you just enough confidence to continue. “I don’t just mean today,” you elaborate, your voice soft. You feel vulnerable now, even more than before, your eyes falling to your lap. “You’re always there when I need you, and even sometimes when I think that I don’t.” Seungcheol laughs quietly at that. “It means a lot to me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “You mean a lot to me.”

When you look up, you find him gazing back, and you abruptly realize that he’s moved even closer. The fingers that were playing with yours move up to your waist, and your entire body reacts to the warmth of his palm.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs, a quiet question that threatens to overwhelm you. He’s making sure that you want this just as much as he does. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“More than okay,” you affirm. His mouth lifts at the sides, dimples just peeking through. Again, you think that there’s something more that you wanted to say, but your breath is caught in your throat and he’s just so… beautiful.

“I…” He trails off, and you watch as his eyebrows furrow. You’re desperate to be even closer as you wait, closing the final space between you to press your forehead to his. “It was so hard not talking to you this week,” is what finally he says, and though he hasn’t said much, you think you understand.

I missed you. That’s what he’s trying to say.

You desperately want to communicate to him that you won’t leave him like that again, that you don’t plan on going anywhere, that the last seven days away from him sucked just as much for you. In a bold move, you ease your legs apart, leaving room for him to stand between them. Your calf moves to hook behind his knee, tapping against him in a silent request for him to come even closer. You hope he understands — that you want him close like this, that you missed him more than you think he realizes.

He seems to understand you just fine.

He easily fills the space you made for him, his chest nearly flush against yours now. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze, and you inhale a shaky breath as he brushes his nose against yours. Your hands have found his shoulders, grasping onto the material of his sweater, and his eyes fall shut.

The same, pesky strand of hair is falling into his eyes again, and you’re pretty certain that given your current position, you’re allowed to do something about it now. So you do, lifting a hand to gently brush it back and over his forehead, gaze following the movement. His eyes open at the touch, and a whisper of your name brings you back to him.

The moment you lock eyes again, he’s leaning forward to capture your mouth with his.

Your hand falls from his forehead to his bicep as you gasp into the kiss, as you try and process. When you do, when you realize what’s finally happening, you can’t get enough. You’re pulling him in so close that you feel a bit feral, your fingers pressing into his arms, his back, one hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You can tell he’s not faring much better than you as he chases your lips relentlessly, as he pulls you into him so close that you can’t feel anything but him.

When you finally need to breathe, your hands find his face. You pull back, eyes taking him in as he lets out a breath, like he can’t believe what’s just happened, either. He looks at you, and you look back, and you have no idea what to say or do — until suddenly, you’re beaming. You can’t help it as you pull him back in for one long, slow kiss, grin wide against his mouth, your hand moving again to the back of his neck. He’s smiling, too — your favourite smile of his, the one that’s completely, entirely genuine — and when he pulls away only to bury his face in your neck this time, you can feel the smile against your skin.

“Fuck, I’m in love with you.”

It’s quiet, whispered against your skin, but you hear it. Your fingers pause their trail up and down his back. You move his face back up to look at him, your eyes searching his, desperate to know if you heard him right. “Cheol?”

He kisses you again, once, twice, so slow and soft that it makes your head spin. “I love you,” he says, breathless against your lips. He waits for you as you let it sink in, his hands firm on your waist, eyes boring into yours so you know that he means it.

You believe him.

“I love you too,” you whisper, foreheads moving to rest against each other once more. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be. It’s okay.”

He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating. You’re certain that yours isn’t doing much better.

“I do have a question though,” he says after a few moments pass, and you hum, urging him to go on. “You said you were going to spend more time with the people that care about you, right?”

You move back to look at him and tilt your head in question. “Yes?”

“I’m guessing that includes Jeonghan and Hoshi and the boys,” Seungcheol muses, and you nod, your eyebrows raising. Then he pouts, and you sputter out a laugh.

“What’s that face for? They’re your friends, too!”

Seungcheol huffs. “Yes, but if you meant that you’re going to kiss them like that, too, then –”

You clap a hand over his mouth. “Ew!”

The man in front of you has a shit-eating grin on his face now, and you remove your hand. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Trust me,” you shudder, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about kissing.”

“You’ve thought about it, huh?”

You look up at him, smacking his chest. “Shut up!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve thought about it too.” When he moves to kiss you again, you stop him with a hand on his chest. “Speaking of our friends,” you tease, “they’re literally going to be here any second. You have permission to kiss me as much as you want to later, okay?”

A/N: here it is! The first of our Thirteen Valentines. I have to be honest, I got a little carried away with this one... I'll put out a full disclaimer that not all of the fics will be this long! Seungcheol has a solid grip on me and I couldn't do anything about it, you guys.

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda

#seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #scoups x reader #scoups x you #scoups fluff #scoups angst #scoups imagine #seungcheol imagine #seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #my writing #thirteenvalentines #cscfic #I’m so nervous to post this lol

1K notes · View notes

writtenbymoonflower · 5 months ago

Note

Hiyaa!! i LOVE!!! your poly!maraduers x reader fics. i was wondering if you could make a fic where the reader has had an absolute horrid week and just got their period and our sweet boys comfort us bc of how good boyfriends they are 🥹🙏

-🌻

thanks for requesting! I hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: period cramps/symptoms, hurt/comfort

1k words

Your eyes were pinched tightly as you clutched your stomach, easing and tightening your hold as the pain ebbed and flowed. You had been feeling crummy all week with no explanation until you were getting ready to take a shower last night and saw the red rorschach stains on your thighs. Thankfully, you hadn’t bled on anything, but you still took extra care to check everywhere you had been sitting. After your panic had subsided, the previous few days had made sense. There had been a grating brick in the bottom of your stomach and a slimy feeling you couldn’t scrub from your skin. Either in addition to or because of these physical feelings, you had been particularly fragile. Your boyfriends had noticed your state, but you never confessed your emotions since there was no clear source, at least, until now.

You were curled into yourself on the couch, as if the more condensed you were the less pain you would feel. You were nauseous to the point of not being able to stomach pain medicine. You had showered last night but still felt disgustingly greasy. There was a book open on the arm of the couch that you had been pretending to read, but eventually had no energy to continue. Remus was in the armchair next to you with his own book, while James mindlessly flicked through the television channels and Sirius sat in front of the coffee table with an array of snacks before him. They were leaving you mostly alone, probably assuming you were trying to sleep. Another cramp fizzed through your body and you winced, a small whimper escaping. Nearly silent, but Remus’ sharp hearing picked it up. He looked at you, clearly expecting some kind of obvious injury.

“What’s wrong, dovey?” He looked like he was in pain himself. Remus was all too familiar with pain, but the idea of any of his loved ones hurting was enough to cause instant panic within him.

“Nothing, I’m fine-” You almost had the sentence out when another cramp hit, making you screw your face up and inhale sharply. Sirius spun around at your reaction. You curled in on yourself further, tensing your stomach.

“What’s going on with you?” Sirius had his rare no-nonsense tone. When you didn’t give a response he tried to pry your arms away from your torso, but you whined and scooted away.

“I said it’s nothing.” You wanted to snap but you sounded too pitiful to have your desired effect.

“Hey. I’m not fucking around.” Sirius kept trying to inspect you, his brain clearly already at the worst case scenario. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Pads, calm down.” James scolded before turning his attention to you. “Let us help you, sweetheart.” He coaxed. You huffed, abandoning your hopes of being modest.

“It’s really nothing serious. Just some uh, cramping. From… you know.” You tried to smile. The boys confused, and then quickly relieved but they still didn’t go back for their previous activities like you hoped they would.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Sirius slumped. “I thought you had fucking appendicitis or something.”

“I think if I had appendicitis it would be a lot worse.”

“I don’t know, lovely girl.” Remus reached over both the arms of his chair and the couch to pet your head. “It looks like you’re hurting pretty badly.” He cooed a sad sound when you winced in pain again.

“Have you taken anything?” James stood up, already heading to the bathroom medicine cabinet.

“Not yet.” You said, feeling Remus’ wordless chiding. You could already hear what he wanted to say. ‘You have to get ahead of the pain, dovey.’ You took the pill bottle from James.

“Have you eaten yet? You can’t take those on an empty stomach.” Remus reminded you. You sighed again, not from cramps this time.

“No.” You said shamefully. Now you were being judged by the other two boys.

“Baby,” James groaned, walking towards the kitchen now. Sirius was already shoving a package of mini muffins towards you. “Why?”

“My stomach hurt too much. I couldn’t get up.” You pouted, slowly chewing a muffin.

“That was when you should’ve asked one of us.” Remus’ gentle bossy tone came out, the way it does when he’s feeling especially protective.

“I would’ve been fine.” You reasoned. “I get this every month, it’s nothing out of the norm.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. Do you think it doesn’t hurt for Remus every month?” Sirius had a charcoal-drawn brow raised.

“That’s different!” You floundered. “Of course it hurts for him.” You got instantly emotional. “I wasn’t saying that.”

“Pads,” Remus huffed before turning back to you. “I know you weren’t. But you see the point. It still hurts for you.”

“ And we still wanna look after you.” James appeared with a glass of water and a hot water bottle for your stomach. You took the medicine while he fixed the heat over your abdomen. When he was done he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Thank you.” You mumbled.

“Don’t thank me, darling.” He said, stroking your hair from your face. You jumped again when Sirius climbed on top of you without warning.

“Siri! What are you doing?” You squealed as he settled his face into your neck.

“Lovin’ on you.” He said as it was the obvious answer.

“I’m disgusting right now.” You groaned, pushing his shoulders to shove him off. He just dead weighted and pulled you in closer.

“Not possible, you’re mine.” He argued. James scoffed.

“Oi! Not just yours!” James shoved Sirius away so he could kiss all over your scrunched face. You all but shrieked before he stopped, turning his attention to the TV remote. Sirius turned the two of you so you were on your sides, your back to his front facing the television. His hand was holding the hot water bottle to your stomach. Remus closed his book and laid on his side. His tall frame was folded in a way that was probably aching, but he still held it. He settled his head on the arm of his chair, nearly touching yours and Sirius’.

“Are you feeling better, sweet thing?” Sirius asked quietly.

“I do. Thank you.” You sounded awfully sleepy.

“Wow. You two just shamelessly took advantage of the situation to turn us into the napping house.” James was trying to sound scolding but it just came out as affection.

“It’s called being supportive, Prongs.” Sirius sassed, but you and Remus were already out.

847 notes · View notes

annievrse · 12 days ago

Text

trick!

roronoa zoro x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: eerie fic for your halloween w/c: (tba) c/w: zoro refers to read as ‘my girl’, not proofread a/n: happy halloween!! i’m posting this (half drunk) at 2am, on my phone, on the bus, and it’s absolutely pouring, so i hope this is spooky enough (because i know i’m in the halloween spirit rn). enjoy!!!

A bloodcurdling scream wakes you from your sleep. Your eyes are bleary at first, your brain trying to make sense of the sound you heard. Was it real, or were you just dreaming? You lay there, frozen for a moment, the ship silent as it rides the waves of the Grand Line.

You turn your head towards Robin's bed, where she sleeps soundly, for once, and then towards Nami's. Your eyebrows draw closer when you fail to see the familiar lump of her body under the blankets. Sitting up, the sheets pool around your waist, and you look around the room for any sign of her.

Coming up empty-handed, you slip one leg out of your bed, carefully avoiding the creaky floorboard directly under your feet. "Robin."

Your crewmate shuffles slightly, a small groan coming from her lips. "Yeah?"

"Nami's missing."

Robin looks to the right side of the room where the redhead's bed sits vacant. You know she won't play into your wild thoughts that your friend got kidnapped and flicks her wrist in dismissal. "She's probably in the bathroom. Go back to sleep."

You nod noncommittally and ignore her as she turns around and goes back to sleep. Despite her careless nature, you know what you heard.

Tiptoeing toward the door, it opens swiftly, and you step into the hallway. Its eerily quiet, and you try holding your breath in intervals to keep yourself as undetectable as possible.

Seeking out the boy's quarters would be the best thing to do, you think; at least Zoro'll calm your nerves with some shitty explanation that you can pretend to believe — he's good at that since he's not scared of mere sounds that you'd deem a ghost the cause of.

Wrapping your arms around yourself against the draft that swims down the middle of the hallway, you can't help but look behind you at every available chance.

You never heard another scream, you remember, and the thought escapes you in the form of a whimper.

A door slamming shut turns your whimper to a yelp, and goosebumps gloss your skin at the sound. The ship goes quiet afterwards, dousing the hallway in utter silence. You can barely hear the waves crashing against the stern.

At last, you stand before the door to the boy's room, your body almost throwing itself against it in fear. You stumble inside, scanning the space for your boyfriend. A groan comes from the right side of the room, and you know you've woken Sanji from his sleep.

The cook sits up, his eyes widening when he sees you. He calls your name softly, and you meet his gaze. His expression turns to one of concern, and you can imagine the ridiculous look on your face — one of unconcealable fright.

"I heard a scream."

Like he can hear your barely there whisper from the far corner of the room, Zoro jumps from his hammock and makes his way toward you. "What's wrong?"

You look between him and Sanji and sigh. "Nami's missing from our room."

Sanji's eyebrows fly to his hairline, and he looks past you out the door. "You said you heard a scream?"

Zoro sighs and rubs his eye with his knuckle. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

You nod, looking directly at the swordsman, who eyes you with rare apprehension. "I'm scared."

Your tone flips a switch inside of Zoro and then he's standing up straighter, his hand resting on the hilt of one of his swords. "'Mkay."

Sanji pushes past Zoro and leaves the room.

"Where are you going?"

"To the deck," the cook answers without turning around or slowing.

"Idiot, he's going to get himself killed."

You latch onto Zoro's bicep quickly, his skin warm under your touch. "Do we have to follow him?"

Zoro huffs. "I guess. Who else is going to make me those rice balls?"

Rolling your eyes, you urge him to follow Sanji. "C'mon."

Risking a glance behind you, you go stiff. "Zoro."

"Yeah?" He mumbles, looking down at you and following your gaze to his other crewmates — or where they should be. "What the fuck?"

The empty beds make your stomach drop. Chopper, Usopp, Brook, Franky, and Luffy are missing from their hammocks, and the sight makes tears prick the corners of your eyes.

You're at a loss for words until Zoro pulls you out of the room. "I don't know what's going on here, but I'm gonna kick their asses."

Stepping into the empty hallway, the ship is silent. Zoro leads the way, his steps never faltering as you walk to the deck. When he opens the door, the wind hits you in the face, and the tears in your eyes run unwillingly.

Sniffling, you look around. The stars above you do little to comfort you, and you curse the moon for being a void in the sky tonight.

"Don't cry," Zoro mumbles, and you know he doesn't mean it harshly. "Who do you think I am, huh? Think I'm gonna let anything happen to you?"

"No," you laugh wetly, wiping your eyes. "You're my big, strong boyfriend who has the bearings of a rock."

"That's my girl," He says, a flit of humour in his voice. "Now, where're these morons?"

A sharp scream from the bow of the Sunny makes you yelp and tighten your grip on Zoro's arm.

"What are these idiots up to?" He mumbles, and then you are led toward the sound, every fibre of your being wanting to run the other way and maybe into the ocean. Zoro draws Shusui and slices the air, jolting you from a stupor.

"Watch where you swing that thing, mosshead!"

Rolling his eyes, Zoro snarls at the rest of your crew who emerge from the small room inside the figurehead.

You gasp at seeing your crewmates unharmed and drop your arms from Zoro's elbow. "What the fuck, guys?"

Nami, who you were elated to see, barked a laugh, doubling over at the look on your face—which you were sure was one of surprise.

Luffy yawns and stumbles toward you. "Nami's revenge is getting boring!"

"Hey!" She yells, whacking him upside the head. "You were all for it earlier!"

Luffy groans and continues his path to the boy's quarters. "That's when you gave me meat."

"Well!' Usopp announces. "I sure love a good scare."

"You were shaking like a leaf, big guy," Sanji deadpans, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Was not!"

"Was too!"

"Why were you all stuffed into Sunny?" Zoro asks over the arguing.

Nami huffs, crosses her arms over her chest, and eyes you with mischief. "Revenge for spending my berries on that stinky idiot!"

"I didn't," You furrow your eyebrows. "I had those berries left over when I sold my share of the treasure. I would never steal from you."

"I know that," Nami whines, dropping her face into her palms. "Well, if you didn't, then who did?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Brook and Chopper slowly inching closer to the door to the quarters. Realisation overcomes you instantly, and you sigh. "Why don't you ask those two?"

Narrowing her eyes at the musician and the doctor, Nami gasps. "You!"

Collective screams from behind you echo into the night as Nami chases your crewmates down the deck and into the hallway.

Zoro yawns, tugging your hand. "Okay.”

You shoot him a wary look. “What?”

Zoro nodded towards the boys quarters. “We’re going to bed?”

Your cheeks heat when you realise he’s taking you with him. When he notices your smug expression, Zoro rolls his eyes.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“No, I know,” you laugh, following him down the stairs.

“Then stop your giggling.”

He wouldn’t tell you, but Zoro never wanted to feel the stab of worry he got when you woke him up in a panic in his chest again.

“I’m gonna kill them in the morning,” he grumbles, rubbing his eye with his knuckle. “For scarin’ the shit outta you, and for pissin’ me off…”

Gripping your hand tighter, Zoro pulls you into his side, sighing when you raise your eyebrow. “Can’t have you goin’ anywhere.”

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro imagine #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #zoro imagine #roronoa zoro x fem!reader

213 notes · View notes

amisunderstoodgoddess · 1 year ago

Text

— point of no return

rating: explicit. 18+ only

summary: you're used to hiding your true feelings for your best friend, but tonight is the point of no return in your relationship.

Author's note: fic based on the Chaise Atlantic soundtrack - seriously, there's nothing more addictive than Jeremiah Fisher and Chase Atlantic.

English is not my first language

I apologize for any errors you may find.

"Jesus, you keep settling for these idiots..." You hear your friend Jeremiah's deep voice approaching you in the empty hall; the sound of the music and the banter of your friends downstairs is now more muffled.

His disdainful stance changes dramatically in the space of a heartbeat, his beautiful blue eyes soften and harden right in front of you as he looks all over your body for physical harm.

"Wh-what?" You ask as you try to wipe your tears quickly, hoping he didn't see it, forcing a shaky smile.

"Your boyfriend, or whatever he is, just passed me on the stairs and didn't even have the decency to respond when I spoke to him and-and...hey..." He trails off when he gets the full view of your face - your face flushed and wet with tears.

"What happened? Did he do something you didn't want? By God, if he did anything, I swear it-" he's grumbling and widening his already imposing posture, obviously prepared to chase your boyfriend for explanations - ex boyfriend, you mentally correct yourself. You would have laughed, if you had any presence of mind for it.

"Jeremiah." You take his hands in yours, so small and delicate compared to his, drawing his attention. "He didn't do anything…well, actually he did, but…it's complicated."

You know he doesn't understand, not with the confused way you're acting, but you're both interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Jeremiah acts quickly and pulls you into his room, locking the door before anyone sees the two of you.

He backs you up against the door without any warning, putting an arm to the side of your head so you can't escape. You try to ignore the swarm of butterflies that dance in your belly as he looks at you through those long dark lashes. The scent of his masculine cologne – sandalwood and something warm and rich, like the purest heat of the sun, something that seemed to cling constantly to his skin – now, suddenly enveloping you too.

A flush forms on your cheeks and you look away from him, embarrassed by his proximity.

Jeremiah is cozy. This is a fact. There's no way you can sit next to him on the couch, side by side, without his arm around you or his head resting in your lap. That's how it's always been since you became friends years ago.

But the way he's looking at you now, body so close to yours, eyes searching yours with sincere interest… somehow it feels different. It feels new.

"Tell me what happened, please." He says seriously, way too serious for him, cupping your chin with long fingers so you'll face him again.

"No-..." You take a deep breath, "it was no big deal. We just broke up. That's all." You want to say this without crying, but tears are already pooling in your waterline once again.

There are a few seconds of silence, filled only by both of your breaths. He just looks at you, carefully assessing your face.

Just when you think he's not going to say anything else, Jeremiah sighs, long and almost relieved, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You frown at him and he has the decency to at least look embarrassed.

"Sorry, sorry! I know you feel terrible right now, but honey, breaking up with that guy was one of the best things you could have ever done. I can't pretend I'm sad about it." He says smoothing the flushed skin of your cheeks fondly.

"Actually, he was the one who broke up with me." You sniff, biting your lip nervously.

Jeremiah freezes and blinks a few times like an owl, processing what you just said.

"What?!" It suddenly bursts. "W-why? Why would he do that? You decide to break up with him��fine, understandable…but why the hell would he break up with you?" He's clearly nonplussed, brows furrowed and curls brushing his forehead as he shakes his head in denial.

"I don't know. He said something vague about me being too needy...he said that sometimes I 'feel too much', whatever that means."

This seems to drive him even more out of his mind.

"What the fuck is that explanation? He wants to tell how you should be, is that it?"

You sigh and try to slip under his arm, overwhelmed by the whole situation, but he squeezes your waist and pulls you back against the door, bringing your bodies even closer.

“That's not what he meant and you know it, Jere. You're taking what he said out of context and that's not fair."

It feels like a barrier has burst after your words, something that once held Jeremiah to sanity and is now no longer there.

"Fair?" He lets out a sharp sigh and shakes his head in disbelief. An oddly cruel smile curves his full lips. "You know what's not 'fair'? Seeing your best friend settle for someone who is beneath her in every way. They don't even deserve to lick the dirt off your boots, Y/N. You deserve so much more than that."

It's your turn to smile wryly. “Then how come no one wants me, Jere? My last two relationships ended in a matter of weeks and you know it. It's the most they can handle by my side. It's time to see reality. They're right, there's something wrong with me."

You are really crying right now. Heartbroken. Not for Mike. You really don't care about him, to be brutally honest. He was just another attempt to fill the emptiness.

The emptiness that left your aching and vulnerable.

Jeremiah reaches out to you, pulling you in and wrapping you in the warmth of his broad chest. "Shit. I'm sorry, princess. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just hate seeing you like this." He strokes yout hair and you sniffle into your shirt. “But you need to know that this is not true. People can't help but want to be with you. You are light. Everyone loves you.”

He pulls your head back, making you look at him again, almost touching your forehead to his, bending his tall body to maintain eye contact with you. Pale blue eyes meet yours, watery and fragile, and for just an instant, you know your eyes betray your secret hope, keeping your own love for him secret. Your eyes disconnect from the intense eye contact and look anxiously at his lips for just a second before re-establishing the connection.

You swallow hard and try to steel your resolve.

You can't do that, you can't confuse the common charisma and intense affection that Jeremiah expresses for basically everyone, with what you really want him to feel for you.

You cannot project your own feelings onto him.

You're not sure when that had changed. When did you start to think differently about Jeremiah, your best friend and constant presence in your life growing up. You moved in your teens and you both didn't have contact for a few years. And since you came back to Cousins, you decided you couldn't risk spoiling your friendship with mixed feelings - friendship that still remained strong, like when you were kids, like not a day had passed since you left.

But Jere certainly grew up while you were gone, and so did you.

Your feelings for him were no longer innocent.

Sometimes you could have sworn the feeling was mutual. You couldn't escape his smoldering gazes when he found you in the kitchen, sitting on the stool wearing one of his hoodies that looked giant on your smaller frame. He would confidently stand in front of you, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee while his eyes roam your legs, not saying a single word to you.

Despite that, you weren't entirely sure. And Jeremiah was too important for you to risk ruining your friendship.

It was getting tough, though. Especially with the way he was looking at you right now.

There was a risk in that, you knew that. You were friends. Your family, friends, and social group were all intertwined. You weren't entirely sure how he felt. It could all come crashing down around you if it went wrong, whatever it was.

There would certainly be questions and there was a lot to think about. But, God, it really was hard for you to think of anything while you were pinned against his bedroom door, with his thigh wedged between your legs - testing, probing, discovering...

Maybe it was the alcohol you drank earlier, maybe it was just heartbreak from the humiliation of being rejected by Mike, maybe you just went really crazy and out of your mind after all...

But before you could think, you were acting.

You look at him, your eyes are still watery but your mouth is set in a firm line, something needy in your expression. “And you, Jere?”

He sighs: "What about me?"

"You want me?" It's a challenge. You say the words without really allowing yourself to think about the consequences. Part of you is so tired of it all - of pretending and hiding.

Your eyes follow the sweeping fall of his golden-brown curls across his forehead to his Adam's apple, which rises and falls with the way he swallows. You lick your lips. You want him. You've wanted him for so long. But there was always this fear of seeking more. He's your best friend and honestly, you don't think you could handle losing him.

He no.

Not Jeremiah.

He's always been the main constant in your life and if you didn't have him…you didn't want to think about what that would be like.

So why, why did you open your mouth?

You are so scared.

You think you might be going crazy.

“Y/N.” He swallows hard. You think he might try to deny it, and, as much as you shouldn't, you're the one approaching him this time, brushing your noses together...eliminating all doubt from the context of your question.

You just need to know. Even if it hurts. Your heart feels like it wants to get out of your chest, but you choose to throw caution to the wind - you've already gone too far. Your hand reaches out, sliding over his nice shirt, feeling the hardness of the muscles along his chest. His hands wrap around your waist and are so big that they reach your back, pulling you closer.

He's looking at your mouth and you think 'fuck', grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down as you go up on your toes, crushing your mouth to his.

He doesn't hesitate. He's leaning your hard against the door, his hand tangled in your hair as he returns the kiss fervently, sliding his lips over yours and pressing your body to his.

The kiss is everything and nothing you expect.

It doesn't start out subtly or in the weird, messy way that first kisses between two people typically characterize. No, this kiss is intense, hot and tastes right. Like he's kissed you a thousand times before.

He bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth and deepen the kiss. At the same time, one of his hands comes up to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your mind spin.

His tongue tastes like mint bubblegum as he kisses you hard, deep and, oh, it's too much and not enough at the same time, because you think you'll never get tired of the taste of him - it burns you deep. You moan into his mouth and it causes something like a growl in the back of his throat. Something dangerous and full of need.

You move against him, wanting more, but the sliding of tongues and lips eventually overcomes you and you forget what you were going to do. When he stops the kiss to inhale for just a moment, sucking, tugging at your bottom lip, you barely have time to think before he's crushing his mouth to yours again. His teeth chatter softly and you feel your heart skip and stutter and pound at the intimacy.

His other arm pulls your thigh around his hips and he pins you against the door with his body, crushing you with broad shoulders and wet mouth and desperate intentions. You squeeze a handful of curly hair between your fingers and pull, and he sighs against your mouth in drunken relief.

And when he pulls back a little, blue eyes slitted, entranced, looking chained and addicted - vaguely you think that no one has ever kissed quite like Jeremiah Fisher.

His hand is still on your throat like a necklace, the other holding your leg around his waist as his lips trace along your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You cup his face with trembling fingers and pull him back into your mouth, catching his soft bottom lip between your teeth in an amused bite.

He moans into your mouth. “Y/N…princess…I've wanted you for so long. God."

“J–Jere…” You whimper and unconsciously push your hips into him, rocking against his hard, defined abs.

"Yes dear? Are you well? Still okay?" he asks, needing to know if it was still okay for you, if you wanted to stop.

You nod quickly – God, everything's more than okay – and he grunts contentedly, pressing your hips down so you can feel…oh…hard and big, hidden inside his pants, rubbing just once against you - just so you feel what you're doing with him.

You both moan at the contact, his thick fingers curling a little more into your throat. "I need your words baby, I need you to say it's okay."

You shake your head nonstop, starting to feel distant. “Please,” you murmur. “Please, Jeremiah, just—” your voice starts to crack, starts to shake, and he silences you, kissing you before you can say his name again.

You lean against him, desperately tugging at his shirt as you become frustrated with his intense presence. You crave his skin, but all you can hold onto is the soft cotton that hides what you want.

Sensing your uneasiness, Jeremiah smiles into your lips and holds your other leg against his body, squeezing you into him as he leads you towards his bed.

You barely hit the soft mattress before he pounces on you, kissing your lips vigorously, devouring you inside and out. His big palms are flat against the mattress, perfectly framing your head where you're lying, but it's not enough.

Of course, it's not enough. You want his hands on your body, taking everything he can from you and giving you back until you're exhausted and panting.

You pull hard on the shirt that still frames his broad shoulders, dragging the fabric up and away from his skin. In a desperate sigh, you spill syllables onto his lips, and all you can do is hope he has some mercy.

“Jere,” you say again, breathless and close to tears, revealing your surge of pent-up need for him. "Take it off. Please."

And he does. Finally, impossibly, he does.

You watch with glittering eyes as he drops to his knees and pulls his shirt over his head, the warm light from his room spreading over his golden skin until he glows. A perfect package of defined abs muscles, broad chest and shoulders, strong arms with veins running the entire length, curly hair falling around his face, and of course, blue eyes a few shades darker with desire...he's a like a Greek god.

You watch him with desire, watch his shirt fall to the floor beside the bed, watch his deft hands reach out to you, fingers hooking under your own shirt that's too big for your body.

Same exchange, maybe. You lose your own shirt to his purposeful hands, leaving you with nothing more than the plain bra you usually wear and little shorts that expose too much skin. Jeremiah pushes the big body back to yours, intoxicatingly but patiently, and kisses the last breath of your lungs until you're writhing and clawing at his skin.

It's unimaginable when your skin finally presses against each other. Bare bodies and desperate desires, nothing is left but desire burning between your flesh. You moan and allow Jeremiah to have you however he wants, and he wants to trace his lips across your front in a smooth line of kisses, fluidly unclasping your bra and pushing it off your body like the thing is an offense to him.

"God, fuck, you don't know how long I've wanted this…" By the time he got the thing off your body, his lips were all over your neck and collarbones. Kissing and sucking your skin into his mouth, leaving his marks on you. Your fingers dug into his hair and pulled, the reward was a strangled moan you could feel against your skin. "Fucking long, baby."

And suddenly he was leaning down with his mouth on your breast as his hand came up to caress the other.

Another sound, something between a moan and a gasp, escaped your mouth as he licked your nipple with his hot tongue. You tried to cover your mouth with your hand, but he pulled it away and placed it on his shoulders once more.

“I want to hear you, princess.” he whispered into your damp skin, looking up at you from where his face was buried in your breast and gently biting your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. "You're so fucking perfect, Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with desire as he teased one of your nipples with his tongue. While the hand that wasn't occupied with your breast found its way between your legs, pushing your shorts off your body with a few tugs.

"Ah, fuck…" He sighed into your nipple, tingling your skin, feeling how wet your panties were as he probed you with two fingers, circling your clit over the fragile tissue tentatively once. You let out your most embarrassing sound yet: a high-pitched moan, whimper, something like that. You'd be mortified if you had the mental capacity for it.

But Jeremiah only grew up listening you.

"Do you like it, baby?" he asks in his husky voice, kissing your belly and reaching down.

"Yes, Jere, please...I want this so badly..."

His big blue eyes blinked at you from under the heavy curtain of lashes, staring at you so intently you thought you would come at that moment.

Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath as you watched him push the soaked fabric of your panties to the side, still not taking his eyes off you. And slowly, as if he were mocking you, his lips finally descended.

You threw your head back with a silent cry at the feel of his mouth on you, and then he was there, his tongue parting your wet lips and plunging inside you. His teeth grazed your swollen clit in a single pulse of pleasure that had you squirming involuntarily, making room only for him to get his hands under you and grab your ass, pulling you closer to him. The position allowed him the freedom to tongue fuck you, moan against your folds, and the vibrations combined with the lewd feel of him inside you like that…you had already reached the point of no return.

"Damn, you taste even better than I thought baby…" He mumbles drunkenly before returning to tease your clit with his lips, his tongue running fervently over the nub. His hands moved beneath you once more, resting your legs on his shoulder. Jeremiah looked down at your glossy folds, almost shaking with excitement. "You look yummy enough to eat, kitten," he said with a wild laugh. His lips found your clit once more.

You screamed, your fingers pulling at his hair. "Jere!"

You cried his name.

He growled into your folds at the needy sound of your voice.

Within moments, you felt yourself getting more and more tense. He moaned, sucking the sensitive flesh once more and you screamed. That small action was all it took to push you over the edge. Every muscle in your body snapped and you cried his name with passion. And he continued his cares, long after your body had stopped shaking.

Impatience quickly replaces momentary lethargy and you find yourself gently pulling his head away from you, still flushed and panting. "Jere, please, for God's sake..."

You don't even know what you're begging for anymore. All you know is what you want. You want his touch, this newfound pleasure. You want it all.

He licks his lips and stands quickly, pulling his pants and underwear off his body as he lets you look at every inch of his exposed body.

His cock is the most spectacular thing you've ever seen and you try to hide your shock; he's the perfect balance of long and thick, more than enough to let you know your pussy will be full, struggling to accommodate him.

Maybe he'll leave you with a memory, a delicious pain. Something to remember that night.

You desperately want to remember that. And you want him to remember you too - like this; hot, sweaty and needing him.

He crawls across the bed until he's on top of you once more, all golden skin and defined muscles, sun-kissed hair and cock leaking precum.

You don't think you've ever seen anything as beautiful as Jeremiah.

Your mouth waters, your eyes reveal your thoughts as you stare at him. The glow in that pretty face makes you hesitantly, shyly reach out and curl your fingers around him.

"You are so beautiful." You murmur against his lips, his mouth opening with a snort and his pool blue eyes fluttering at the feel of your soft skin caressing his warm length. He's heavy and wet between your fingers and you can feel the veins pulsing along his length with each slow stroke of your palm.

"Ah princess, that's it…" he moans before white teeth hold his lower lip hostage as he looks at you from under dark lashes and heavy lids. The question hangs there, needy and urgent. You nod, fingers of your other hand encircling the back of his neck in a confident grip, legs spread wide as he aligns himself with your pussy with one hand and supports his weight on the bed with his forearm next to your face.

“Tell me what you want, my love, and I'll give it to you.” His cock jumped and you felt yourself shiver in anticipation as his head slid up and down your core. The swollen tip is shiny and wet on you and you can feel your pussy trying to pull him in with the shallow thrust when he finally presses against your entrance. He does this a few times and you whimper in frustration. He just smiles one of his wide, bright smiles, except this time there's something almost desperate there too. You wrap your legs around him and take a deep breath as his cock pushes into you, just the tip remaining immobile as he stares at you blushing back at him. He combs your hair back and places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I'm going to ruin our friendship baby…” he breathes and your heart almost sinks before he pulls away and slides inside you again. "You understand?"

He begins to sink into you in an almost affectionate rhythm, allowing you to become familiar with his length. You grab his arms and squeeze them tight each time he pushes himself an inch deeper into you, sighing and rolling your hips with him, grunting as he slowly advances on you.

You blush even more when he chuckles evilly at your reaction. But you can't stop. You're ready to cry, hypersensitive and aroused by the last orgasm, desperately needing another.

His cock moves inside you some more, your pussy straining to pull him in. You shudder, the sensation delicious and torrid and aching all at the same time.

Your eyes close when he's buried to the end.

“Fucking perfect,” he exhales, squinting his eyes and breathing through his mouth. "You were made for me, princess."

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for another hungry kiss and when he hits you, you whimper, biting his bottom lip. He growls and runs his nails along the skin of your neck until he grab the strands of your hair, eliciting a loud, pent-up moan from the back of your throat.

"Please..." You start and don't finish, rolling your eyes with each thrust.

"Please what? Use your words, kitten." He's being cruel. He knows how desperate you are, how much you want him. He is trying to exert control over you.

But you don't like it? A voice from the dark depths of your mind mocks.

Yes, you do.

"I want you to fuck me, Jere," you gasped, your eyes heavy with desire. "Take me...make me yours. Please..."

"Good girl." he mutters, sending a shiver down your spine. He runs his thumb over your breast until the nipple forms a hardened peak. "So good for me baby."

You can barely breathe, you feel so full. Your nails dug into his back and you both hiss at the sensation. He thrusts into you hard, his hips rocking back and forth inside you. All you can hear is the sound of your meowing and skin hitting skin.

His hands grip your hips so hard you're sure you're going to hurt tomorrow. You beg, a strangled cry breaking from your lips as the pressure you feel builds.

And so he's turning you two; a quick, fluid movement, without leaving your body, until you're sitting on top of him as he's sprawled across the bed. You're panting and flushed, embarrassed that you're the one setting the pace now, but your desire is too high for you to remain quiet for long.

You bite your bottom lip and nod, indicating that you like this. Jeremiah smiles softly and cups your hips, pushing you back once, then pulling you forward. He groans and clenches his jaw as you circle your hips to tease his hard cock.

You feel his hands caressing your ass, squeezing, pulling and pushing you onto his cock.

"Damn, you look so good like that." he breathed, his husky voice reverent, dreamy, needy… "I can't wait to see you mess all over my cock."

Suddenly, he seems to lose his temper, pulling you up and down the base of his throbbing cock with force, making you gasp in surprise. Despite that, you feel a sly smile stretch your own lips, the satisfaction of good sex coursing through your body becomes addictive. Not that you'd have much of a basis for comparison, having only done it once - fast, clumsy and unsatisfying.

God, nothing like this experience with Jeremiah. He should have been your first, you are absolutely sure.

You rest your hands on his sweat-damp chest, forcing yourself to move your hips up and down faster. You moan, looking up at him as you tease your clit into his pelvis.

Jeremiah plants his feet on the bed and slides his hands behind you to cup your ass cheeks, opening you and lifting his hips to slam you deeper. You gasp and dig your nails into the skin of his chest, eliciting a hoarse moan from the man.

He looks at you, all clenched jaw, furrowed brows and hazy blue eyes boring straight into you. A moment passes, then another, the feeling of something big coming closer and closer.

“I could barely handle it..." he admits hastily, taking one of his hands from your ass to spread it across your belly, squeezing and massaging your flesh. “The idea of someone else's fucking hands on you, princess. Of those little guys touching what's mine…” Jeremiah lets out a shuddering breath as his hand continues up your side, thumb gently brushing the underside of your breast, causing liquid heat to pool in your core.

You whimper as he cups your breasts and pinches your nipple, moaning at the feel of his fingers sending electricity to your swollen clit, making you roll your hips harder against him.

Your toes curl and your thighs flex as you approach the edge. You lean down to capture his lips with yours, skimming your tongue along his before sucking mint and sunshine on your tongue. He moans into your mouth as you let your tongue run past his teeth and along his bottom lip.

His grip on your ass is almost painful, making you move faster. Jeremiah licks his lips and watches you as he uses the heels of his feet to thrust faster and faster into you.

"That's it love, let go for me, I want to feel you come all over my cock."

You part your lips and scream as you crush your pussy against his pelvis and come hard with your rolling hips. Pleasure rushes over you like waves as you tighten around him. Jeremiah gasps and watches your slow, hazy descent. He grabs your hips and throws you onto your back once more.

You squeal as he stands between your thighs, looking up at you with a dangerous smile before slamming into you and making you scream a loud moan. There's no patience or time for you to recover, he fucks you up during your overstimulation.

"Come on, princess, you can handle it…" You moan in response to his wild words, and grip the sheets beside you as he slides his forearms under your knees to push your legs against your chest.

You struggle to look down when you see that his gaze is fixed between your legs, nearly drooling as his watch his own cock enter your wet pussy with each hard thrust. His lips part and his messy golden hair falls in front of his electric blue gaze. He licks his lips and groans as he pumps into you harder, pushing you back against the bed.

The sight makes your pussy clench with a fresh wave of need.

You lift your hips and bend slightly as he tilts his hips, hitting your G-spot and making your toes curl. You flex your thighs and grab the pillow to scream in ecstasy as you suddenly collapse around him once more. Surprise etched across your flushed, sweaty face as you widen your eyes. Jeremiah laughs, but he's barely holding it together now, as broken as you are.

Each thrust sends the bed creaking and hitting the wall, the sound drowned out only by the loud music and shouting from the lower level of the house.

He smiles, breathless and close to the edge.

“Come for me, Jere, please...” you murmured to him, exhausted and shaky. You want to tell him to cum inside you, you're on birth control and you trust Jeremiah above anyone else. Do you really want. But all you can do is stare at him through narrowed, watery eyes, silently begging him to finish inside you.

He seems to understand you, like he always does.

He moans and pushes your legs even closer towards your chest, focusing on his own growing climax. He quickens his hips and his knees widen into the bed as he approaches. Moans escape his lips as his thrusts become erratic.

“Fuck, fuck, I've wanted this for so long,” he moans loudly, desperately. "Fill that sweet pussy. Fuck, take it all baby..."

His nails dug into yours legs as he slammed harder, his hip bones colliding with the backs of your thighs. His throbbing cock inside you soggy, wet pussy was music to his ears, pushing him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips before parting them in ecstasy, lost in the way his cock was fucking your tight pussy.

And then you hear his breath hitch. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, stretching your pussy and making you feel fuller. Jeremiah curses under his ragged breath, speeding it up until he lets out a loud groan. "I'm cumming, fuck, fuck..."

If you had any energy left, you would have cum from just the needy sound of his voice, but your body is limp and exhausted after three intense orgasms. So you just watch it carefully; the way his bushy brows are drawn together in the most beautiful agony, his golden brown curls sticking to his forehead, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his golden skin glistening with sweat, his defined muscles flexing and relaxing...

He's perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Jeremiah pulls off of you and collapses noisily beside you, breathing hard and you slowly stretch your legs out, feeling like you might get a cramp at any moment. He lifts himself up on one elbow as your legs spread slowly in exhaustion along the sheets.

He grabs some kleenex from the desk next to the bed and goes back to wipe it between your legs. "Are you well?"

"Mmhmm...yeah, but I don't think I can get up." You said softly and laughed, putting an arm over your eyes.

"Don't worry about it baby, we don't have to leave now. We can stay here all night actually." He said and you can hear the smile in his voice, the satisfaction and happiness.

For some reason that made you more embarrassed than anything that had happened just a few minutes ago. The fact that he was obviously pleased awakened a kind of self-awareness in you that wasn't present before.

God, what did that mean to him? Was it something induced by the heat of the moment? A unique thing that you would keep only in your memory?

You didn't dare remove your arm from your face, too embarrassed to really look at him right now.

He had no idea. Inside, your heart was doing somersaults and you almost thought about crying with sheer relief and happiness at having fulfilled one of your greatest desires in life.

Here, in the low lighting of his bedroom, you couldn't pretend that you probably weren't head over heels in love with your best friend.

You could never again pretend you weren't in love with Jeremiah Fisher.

But your daydreams were interrupted when he moved beside you, and soon he was sliding under the covers with you, wrapping himself around you like a cocoon, like something safe and warm and fluffy - not the sexy man who just eat you and touched you and made you come three times in a row.

“I really like you, princess,” he whispered, his voice cracking in the process, right in your ear. You heard him smile as he gently pulled your arm away from your face, forcing you to look at him.

You swallow and try not to vent the insecurity you're feeling.

"I meant everything I said, you know." He continues, his eyes clear and shining like the sky, even in the dim lighting of the room. "You are mine. Always have been."

You let one of your hands rest on his chest, feeling his heart race under your fingertips. God, you want to agree. You want to give yourself to him more than anything...

He's right, you were always his.

But there is one thing that still troubles you.

“What if I want you to be mine too?”

He lets out a chuckle, bringing his head forward to rest in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “That's easy, love. I've been yours longer than I care to admit. And now I've had you this way, I'm not at all willing to let you go."

You sigh and smile, your eyes becoming blurred with tears once more. When Jeremiah pulls away, he laughs at the satisfied expression on your face, placing a sweet, slow kiss on your swollen lips.

His tone was teasing and affectionate as he said, “What are best friends for anyway?”

#jeremiah fisher #team jeremiah #tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah x y/n #jeremiah fisher smut #jeremiah smut #tsitp fanfic #tsitp smut #gavin casalegno #gavin casalegno x reader #tsitp imagine #jeremiah and reader #belly x jeremiah

1K notes · View notes

dyk3tastic · 4 months ago

Text

friends

victoria neuman (the boys) x reader

genre: angst, light smut, hurt/comfort(ish)?

summary: when victoria shows up unannounced at your apartment in the dead of night you want nothing more than to kick her to the curb, you let her in anyway. reader is a member of the boys, could be read as a follow up to my previous fic “cant have both” or as a stand alone. (now wiv a follow up u can read here)

warnings: weapons, language, slightly nsfw, light smut, mentions of sex

a/n: back with another one. getting back into posting ff, haven’t written for an ‘audience’ in a while, feedback is appreciated. enjoy! :)

“wow, you really gonna treat a friend like that?” victoria drawled, foot blocking your front door, stopping you locking her out. wide grin flashing her perfect white teeth. the last thing you wanted at 4am was to shuffle bleary eyed through your shitty apartment, glock firm in your grip by your side, to answer that incessant hammering against your door. when you open the door to see her standing you want nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow you whole, dreading wallowing in the limbo between you both. the space between hate and longing, betrayal and understanding, where all interactions between you two now seemed to take place. you were tired.

staring up at you under her thick dark lashes, you knew you couldn’t get rid of her even if you wanted to. “we’re not friends” you croak out, voice rough with exhaustion. she just laughs at you, continuing to blink up at you like a fawn, flashing her predatory smile. “what are you doing here vic?” you hiss frustrated by her brazenness and lack of explanation.

“can i come inside? i want to talk to you”, she lets her smile drop. “please”.

you say nothing to each-other as you turn to let her in, she slides past you, eyes dragging down your body, heat prickles your ears as she clocks your batman underwear. she strides in, confident and assured as ever, walking towards the kitchen as if she were coming home from work, like she owns the place. just as you’re starting to become hyperaware of your lack of clothing she speaks again, voice gentle and relaxed over the quiet hum of the tv, “i knew you wouldn’t be asleep yet”.

“is that what you’ve come here to do, pretend to know me so well, tell me about my fucking sleeping patterns?” you mutter, irritated. resting against your kitchen counter you stood opposite her, taller than her now that she had her heels off. the low orange glow of the kitchen light illuminated her bronzed skin. victoria looks up at you, all brown eyed and beautiful, and it makes you forget what she’s done, what you’ve done, just for a second.

“i want zoe out. i want her far away from all this bullshit. i want out. i need you to help me undo this, to just leave it all behind. please.”

hissing, voice scratchy in your throat you half sigh, “you just turn up here and expect me to trust you, expect me to risk my life for you, blinking up at me like bambi and expecting me to feel fucking sorry for you.” “i trusted you, believed in what we were doing, in us. i thought we were working towards something right, some fucking justice for once. to find out those years of my life were useless, sisyphus pushing that rock up that never fucking ending hill for vought. when i told you about-“ you stop abruptly, tired of rehashing the past, take a deep, shaky breath and collect yourself. “coming round here talking about friends” you scoff.

chest rising and falling with uncertainty she stares you down, face unflinching. mocking and faux innocent she asks “we weren’t friends?”. “i’d say when i’d ride your pretty face til it was covered in my cum that we were friends, at least i definitely considered you my friend.” her smile is sharp. “when you’d rut against my leg all desperate and pleading you didn’t think i was your friend?” she added with an exaggerated pout.

you recognised the deflection immediately, could see that all she wanted was to crawl under your skin and pull you back to her. but you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t effect you, the full truth of it all hanging in the air, your skin prickling with memory and mouth dry with the her boldness. “we’re not friends now” you say, proud of yourself for managing to keep your voice steady.

she steps forwards, encroaching in your space. “that’s okay, we don��t need to be friends”. she moves closer again, you don’t dare move, anxious not to scare her off, anxious to close the gap between you two. she breathes an “i’m sorry” into your neck, voice laced with what you so desperately want to believe to be sincerity. moving her head up, her nose bumps your cheek, plump lips pressing a soft kiss against your mouth. your arm moves of its own accord, snaking around her waist, urging her closer. her next kiss is less gentle, her mouth greedy and desperate against yours, chills run down your spine as you let out a quiet whimper. tongue swiping over her lower lip you let yourself get lost in her, in the kiss. transfixed by her touch heat pools deep in ur abdomen, your underwear growing sticky and uncomfortable.

the nights spent touching yourself, seething with anger as you imagined your fingers buried deep inside her, imagined pulling out those little pants and whimpers that made you want to never hear another sound again; those nights seething in your betrayal and wetness couldn’t compare to the electricity that ran through your body as her warm tongue licked lewdly into your mouth. nothing could compare to the feeling of her pressing her warm, petite but deadly body against yours. revelling in the feeling of her tits against your chest it was the bumping of her hip against the hard glock tucked in the thick waistband of your underwear that brought you out of your trance. both of you breathed heavy hot air against the others face, panting as you try to remember why you were here, to clear away you heady thoughts, to regain some semblance of control.

#fanfic #x reader #the boys season 4 #the boys #victoria neuman x you #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman x the boys!reader #the boys x reader #victoria neuman fic #victoria neuman fanfic #victoria neuman lesbian #shes a dyke! why? cos i say so!#the boys smut #victoria neuman smut #dyketastic!#NEEDTHAT #i can fix her #jk she doesn’t need fixing i hope she gets worse #lesbian

297 notes · View notes

kitsuga · 1 month ago

Text

Loading Screen. {Leviathan x Reader/MC}

Description:

A fic in which Levi tries to express his feelings but MC makes the move.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tags: fluff, kissing, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, leviathan/levi x reader/mc, obey me!/obm/om, leviathan/levi

Word Count: 1,086

A/N: Written on: June 27, 2021

I just felt like writing this one day for my best of all friends and I have nothing else to say beyond that, really. Also, nervous levi agenda thank you

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Woo-hoo! Another series: done. Hurry up MC, I’m gonna start the next one!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” MC called, rushing over to plop onto the floor-bound makeshift blanket fort with an arm full of snacks to restock their supply. “Don’t hit play yet!”

“Too late! No time! Gotta play it now!”

“Levi!” They whined, pushing him over and rewinding the previous 10 seconds they missed just to prove a point while he laughed.

He bounced back up, pretending to have done it too hard and bumped into their side, causing them to fall over a bit as well. The two of them fought back and forth for a short while, laughing comfortably with each other until their new show’s opening ended—that was when they settled down. MC leaned their head against his shoulder, and Levi suddenly realized the position he was in and stiffened up; he started to get nervous and shy despite being in the same situation time and time again.

Once the show actually started, it was easy for him to get lost in it and forget the warmth of MC cuddling up beside him, wrapping their arms around his waist and mindlessly feeding him snacks as time went on. As the episode came to an end, however, the cursed black loading screen reminded him once more of his (epic!) predicament. MC nuzzled against him for a bit before sitting up, noticing his nerves plain as day on his face in the very same reflection.

“I think this one’s going to be good; what did you think about it?”

“The premise is good but the executions a little slow. If they had used proper elements of a magical girl anime instead of trying to fake it and make their own, it would hold more attention of the viewers but instead they made it seem more like an off-brand mecha and that--”

He continued on his rant relentlessly, MC wasn’t sure he ever took a breath within it. He spouted off a lot of explanations, most of which they picked up a few words from, but mostly just nodded in silence with a smile on their face. They looked content, happy to listen to him and pretty interested in what he had to say—whenever it was cohesive, at least. Their gentle smile is what caused Levi to pause and stare at them.

“You know,” he started, “I’m glad you’re here. I’m pretty happy that you’re willing to do this with me.” His face started to heat up, and his face contorted to a pained look as though he were battling with himself to get words out. “I mean, I have no one else to do this with. I’m just--”

“Aw, Levi,” they teased, a small smirk growing on their lips, “are you trying to compliment me?”

“No!” A lie. “Let me talk!”

MC threw their hands up in defense, nonchalantly twisting their lips to the side and eyes following suit as they pretended not to care. Levi took a deep breath before launching back into his speech.

“I’m just, glad that you like me—and that you like me enough to sit here and do all that gross couple stuff with me, and that you listen to me even if you’re a bit of a normie and don’t understand the golden depth of my reviews, and--” he quickly started to spiral into a nervous, embarrassed fit and fidgeted with his hands, “and you know I just, I... I lo- lov- I lo-”

The more Levi stuttered, the worse he felt. As his heart started to leap out of his throat, he could feel it breaking into pieces; this wasn’t how he wanted to do it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Now he looks like a complete fool—MC wouldn’t like him back after this! Even if they were already dating—they'd definitely want to leave after this, he certainly did. His eyes shot up from his hands to their own eyes as their hands covered his. Their smile was so gentle, he almost shattered into pieces under the sheer intense pressure he found himself under.

“Hey,” their teasing tone replaced with something he’d describe as angelic, “if you can’t say it out loud, go ahead and use this.”

It was only then that he realized they dropped his phone in his hands. They tilted their head and smiled even brighter, knowing just what would make him feel better. His hands shook as he typed out a text message to them at lightning speed, thumb now hovering over the send button; he closed his eyes shut tight as he hit send and groaned, throwing himself backwards and laying on the floor. He complained to MC that they insist on making his life difficult, when all he wanted to do was watch anime.

‘I love you. I wanted to say it without stuttering, or in some cool like, shojo-style way since it was the first time, but I ruined it.’

Levi was almost too afraid to look at his phone whenever it went off.

‘Sit up.’

Reluctantly, he did as he was told and had already opened his mouth to complain, apologize, deflect, anything he had to do to save face but instead of needing to save it, MC held it instead.

Gently, they cupped their hands around his face and leaned in slowly, only kissing the tip of his nose. The small kiss was so full of affection, Levi wondered if he was going to cry; his body relaxed a bit, his face melting into their hold as he looked at them through his lashes and a pout on his lips to offset the look of love in his eyes and blush on his face.

Words didn’t need to be said. He didn’t need to say it again, they didn’t need to say it to him. He didn’t need to ask them to kiss him again, they leaned in again and gave him a deep, loving kiss. When they pulled away, he stared at their lips until they leaned in again and again. His heart was racing and he felt as though he were on Cloud 9; he didn’t know what he did to deserve this, but he thanked whatever god may have had a hand in it.

The anime played through episode after episode, long forgotten in the background; their love reflected on the black background between them. He’d definitely be able to tell them the right way next time.

#obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me leviathan x reader #leviathan x reader #kitsu.writes #kitsu.om #kitsu.om levi #obey me leviathan #om leviathan #obm leviathan #obey me #obey me fanfic

114 notes · View notes

lowkeyrobin · 3 months ago

Note

Hi, i was curious if you could do a fic where reader is the sister of thor and loki (loki is ofc apart of the VKs) and reader has something for both hades and hook. If that’s ok since marvel is apart of Disney, but they didn’t have to based off marvel.

okay I can definitely try although I don't write for Hades, but I will try! ; I also know nothing about Thor or Loki (not a big marvel fan) so I did some googling... also i couldnt really work loki in so were gonna pretend its an uliana-ursula situation im sorry ; also I do only write gn / they/them readers only so sorry ab that ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also this is lowkey awful I'm sorry writers block has been killing me and I'm prob going on a break soon :(

HOOK & HADES ; god

summary ; you, sibling of loki & thor, attend merlins academy. two of your friends are sadly becoming more than friends

warnings ; language

word count ; 1k

masterlist

"Don't think about it," you roll your eyes, sensing that Hades and Hook were behind you, planning something devious. "It's like you forget I'm telepathic," you speak, spinning on your heels to face them.

James, widely and awkwardly, smiles, Hades a blank expression on his face, holding his ember.

You slowly blink, awaiting an explanation.

"We weren't doing anything!" James quickly denounced.

"We were gonna scare you into teleporting away"

"Again"

You chuckle, spinning on your heels once more as they join you at your side. You rest your arms around their shoulders, a devious smirk on your face.

"Wanna play a game of Telepathy Telephone?"

"Oh, I do!"

"Yeah, sure"

The three of you sit at a metal outdoor table, Hades poking his fingers through the little holes. Hook spreads his hand out, pretending his hook was a knife -at least it's as sharp as one- as he taps it between the space of his fingers.

"Who wants to start?" You ask

"I do!"

"No, I want to. You went first last time"

"I'm Y/n's favorite"

"I'm literally a God. I'm they're favorite"

Never in a million years would you admit that you didn't have favorites because those two had you wrapped around their fingers. You'd be taking that to the grave.

"I rule the seas-"

"I rule the entire Underworld, James"

"Y/n, who's your favorite?"

"Dude, what's wrong?" You whisper to Hades, who sits next to you.

His eyes don't leave the person whom they're glued to as he mutters an answer back. "They were mocking you"

You furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

"They were mocking you" He repeats, raising his voice to normal as he speaks to them. "Hey, do you wanna say that to their face? Or no?"

The kids turn around, looking at you and Hades. He leans back in his chair casually, arms crossed, as you look confused beside him.

"Yeah. They're annoying. Maybe shut up sometime" one of them answers.

Hades flicks on his powers through his ember, his hair burning a bright blue flame, his eyes lightly glowing the same color. In his attempt to scare the kids, it kind of makes you stare at him for far too long.

Okay, that's kinda hot.

Even if you are the bullies, it was nice he was sticking up for you. It didn't bother you practically at all, as you could handle it yourself, but yeesh, this side of him was hot. You couldn't lie.

The kids turned back around, silencing themselves for the rest of the class, not wanting to be scorched to bits. He flicks his powers off, looking at you staring at him with hearts in your eyes.

"Whatcha looking at?"

You quickly look away, trying not to focus on the heat rising in your face. "Nothing," you mutter. "Thanks"

Hades rolls his eyes, knowing you found him attractive. It wasn't because of his ego, no, he'd known for months now. Though, he couldn't shake his head that someone else was in the equation as well.

"Uh, no-"

"Please. Just one date!"

You look around, trying to find a way out of this situation. You didn't want to go out with this random AK, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. You were bad at telling persistent people no.

Hook approaches, wrapping a hand around your waist. "Can I help you?" He speaks to the person.

"Who are you?" They question.

"Their boyfriend" He quickly answers, pulling you a little closer. He can feel your silent sigh of relief, the tension in your shoulders quickly dissipating. Butterflies storm your stomach to replace those awful feelings though.

The kid looks between you and Hook before quickly scurrying away. He turns to you, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"So..."

"Very persistent" you answer, rolling your eyes.

"I see" He nods, removing his hand from your waist, butterflies still swirling in your stomach. "You alright?"

"Mhm" You quickly answer, the feeling inside slowly dissolving as his hand was removed.

He sees the look on your face, taking it as you were uncomfortable after the interaction, maybe because of him.

"Would you want to go get ice cream with me?" He asks, wanting to make you feel better.

"Uhm, sure" you smile lightly, accepting the kind gesture, temporarily staring at him a little too long in a friendly way. Eugh, you seemed to do that with everyone now.

He holds his hand out for you, awaiting for you to take it so he can lead you away. You smile kindly, taking his hand.

"Think I may love you, James," you speak, knowing he'd only take it as platonic.

"Love you too"

You, Hades, and Hook were in the Black Lagoon, messing around and chilling out during the night. Uliana, Morgie, and Maleficent were God knows where, probably having a sleepover or prank calling people.

You sit on a shell-shaped couch, all sprawled out and comfortable.

"If you don't shut up-"

You use your magic to silence Hades, not wanting to listen to him ramble on and on even more. He slaps your shoulder, trying to yet you to un-silence him.

You and Hook giggle and laugh, and do even more as you shape-shift to look like the blue haired friend, mocking him. You return to your natural shape, allowing Hades to speak again.

"You're not funny" he grumbles

"If you say so" you levitate off the couch, lazily making your way over to a little box where you kept snacks. "You guys want anything?"

"Nah"

"I'm good"

You return to the couch with some snacks and drinks, continuing the conversation about random things. Hades eventually gets up to wait for the others to get here, as they'd contacted thay they'd actually be on their way.

That leaves you and Hook on the couch, awkwardly sitting around.

He eventually speaks up, a thought wracking his mind.

"Did you mean that I love you the other day in a romantic way?"

You quickly turn your head to look at him. You think about your answer for a moment before attempting to shoot your shot. "What if I did?"

"I'd kiss you" He quickly replies.

You blink for a moment, deciding to be upfront and honest before you get yourself stuck anywhere. "Okay, uh, to be honest, I'm into you and Hades. So, uhm.."

"Ew." He quickly speaks, but then corrects himself. "Not because you're into two people, I couldn't care less. But Hades?"

You stifle a laugh. "Hades"

He shrugs. "You do have awful taste"

"Are you roasting yourself?"

"No?!"

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #descendants x gn reader #descendants x reader #james hook x reader #hook x reader #hades x reader #descendants rise of red x reader #rise of red x reader #tabathastan #hades x reader x hook #polyamourous

125 notes · View notes

goldengalore · 2 years ago

Text

Neglected

A househusband!Harry fic.

Summary: Harry has been feeling neglected and unappreciated by Y/N, and she doesn’t realize it.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: angst, smut (sub!harry, soft dom!reader)

A/N: I woke up at 4am one morning with the urge to write this. Also listened to Tolerate It by Taylor Swift for more inspo!

***

In all the years that Harry has been married to Y/N, he has never felt neglected by her. Sure, there have been instances where her schedule became too hectic for them to spend much time together, but even then, her love and appreciation for him could be felt through her actions.

Lately though, that hasn’t been the case.

Work has been stressing her out, he can discern that much. And while she has never been one to let work stress affect her personal relationships, this past week has brought out a different side to her. A side that makes him feel small and invisible.

When she comes home, it’s like she wants nothing to do with him. She heads straight upstairs, telling him she’ll be down for dinner later. During dinner, she’ll ask their daughter, Savannah, about her day but won’t ask him. After dinner, she’ll go back upstairs without acknowledging whether the food was good or not, even when he cooks her favourite dishes. He’ll wash up in the kitchen and go up to their bedroom to find her already asleep on her side of the bed—or pretending to be asleep, it seems at times. If he tries to cuddle up to her, she’ll shrug him off and shift further towards the edge of the bed with her back to him.

He’s beginning to wonder if he unwittingly did something to upset her. Or maybe it’s all in his head. Maybe he should just suck it up. Surely, this won’t last forever and she’ll be back to her normal self soon enough…

It’s Friday now. He hopes that with the weekend on the horizon, Y/N will be in a much better mood when she gets home.

“Hi, lovie,” he greets her when she walks in through the door. “How was your day?”

She releases a heavy sigh as she slips off her heels. “Shitty, but at least it’s over, right?”

“Sorry to hear that.” He attempts to give her a hug, but it doesn’t last longer than a second before she pulls away with a tight smile.

She heads to the kitchen, dropping her bag and keys by the stairs along the way. He follows her like a lost puppy. Grabbing herself a glass of water, she collapses onto one of the dining chairs and chugs it down.

At least she didn’t go straight upstairs today, he thinks to himself, grasping for a silver lining.

She rolls her neck from side to side and rubs the back of her shoulder, wincing a bit. Harry moves to stand behind her. Shifting her hair over to one side, he starts massaging her neck and shoulders. He holds his breath, expecting her to brush him off, but instead, she reclines in her seat while he carefully presses his thumbs into the nape of her neck.

“Work has been such a pain lately,” she admits.

“I know. Could tell you’ve been stressed out.”

“It’s this new boss. She’s impossible to work with. She puts unreasonable deadlines on everything, expecting us to finish these huge, complicated tasks within days. Then, when people like me try to speak up about it, she’ll publicly shame us in front of the whole office and pile on even more work so that— Ow! Okay, H, you’re pressing too hard.” She reaches behind her to push his hands away.

“Oops. Sorry, love.” Fuck. She was finally opening up to him about why she’s been acting so cold, finally giving him more than just one-word responses or vague explanations, and he ruined it.

“It’s fine. I’m going to go take a shower.” She stands up.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing her hand.

She turns to him with a look of mild annoyance.

“Um, wh—why don’t I run you a hot bath?”

“Sure. Not too hot though, okay? I’d like to not burn my skin off.”

He chuckles at the comment, pretending that it didn’t sting a little. “Yeah, of course.”

He runs the bath and checks the temperature of the water multiple times while Y/N undresses in their bedroom. He’s about to check for a fourth time when she enters the bathroom in her white robe, which she hangs up on the wall hook. She settles into the tub and closes her eyes. Meanwhile, Harry watches from the doorway, wishing he could get in there with her and be close to her.

“Do you want me to stay?” he offers tentatively. “We can talk more about the stuff you’ve been dealing with at work.”

“Ugh, no, I don’t even want to think about work.”

“Oh. Well, we can chat about something else to get your mind off—”

“I’m not really in the mood to talk.” She opens her eyes briefly to look at him. “I’ll be down for dinner later, okay?”

Translation: Don’t bother me until dinner.

With a hollowness in his chest, he shuts the bathroom door and returns downstairs to the kitchen.

***

“Daaaaad?” Savannah calls to her father from the dining table, where she has decided to do her homework tonight.

“Yeeeees?”

“Can you help me with my homework?”

“Be right there.” He turns down the heat on the stove before walking over to his daughter, leaning over her to take a look at what she’s working on. Math. His worst enemy.

“I don’t understand this question,” she says, pointing to a lengthy word problem on the page with several multiple choice options.

He reads and rereads it a few times before attempting to solve it in his head. It seems easy enough… Until he realizes that the answer he came up with isn’t even one of the options. He asks Savannah how her teacher taught her to approach questions like this, and her explanation only confuses him even more. Math was tough when he was in school, but the way they teach it nowadays boggles his mind.

“I’ll go see if your mum can help.”

He heads upstairs to check if Y/N is done with her bath and finds her sitting at the foot of their bed in her robe, brushing her hair. The sun is setting outside. Its warm, amber glow spills through the curtains and falls across one side of Y/N’s face, casting a shadow on the other. She looks ethereal in this light, like a goddess, and he feels unworthy of her presence.

“Babe? Savannah needs help with her maths homework,” he tells her.

“Can’t you handle it?”

“I mean, I’m trying, but we both know how useless I am at maths,” he answers with a smirk, but she doesn’t even crack a smile.

“Harry, it’s grade school math, not rocket science.”

His face drops. “Well, yeah, but I— Never mind. I’ll figure it out.” He turns to leave but pauses in the doorway, turning back around to face her. “Y/N, are you… Are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?”

He instantly regrets asking. Y/N closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“No, H, I just need some time alone,” she states slowly. “Like, is that too much to ask? I can’t even have a second alone without you getting clingy and thinking I’m mad at you? It’s exhausting.”

His heart cracks for what feels like the millionth time that night. Clingy. His wife thinks he’s clingy. It’s not the first time he has been called that word. But it is the first time he has been called that word by her. And God, does it hurt like a dagger slicing through his chest.

“Sorry,” he mumbles before leaving.

He tries his best to help Savannah with the question, ultimately resorting to Google where he finds the solution posted on some forum a few years ago.

“Daddy, are you okay?” asks Savannah once her homework has been sorted.

He raises a brow at the odd, adult-like concern in his daughter’s voice. “Yes. Why?”

“You look sad.”

He forces a smile. “I’m not sad. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, of course. But I’m fine.”

She squints her big eyes at him suspiciously, drawing a genuine laugh out of him.

Kissing the top of her head, he says, “I’m going to finish making dinner, but let me know if you need anything else.”

“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

That little token of appreciation means so much to him, he gives her another kiss on the head.

“You’re very welcome.”

***

Harry feels numb at dinner. His appetite is nonexistent. The food that he himself cooked with love and care tastes bland and flavourless to him. He has long zoned out on the conversation between Y/N and Savannah, which is completely unlike him, as someone who prides himself on being a good listener.

“H, you okay? You’ve barely touched your food,” comments Y/N. It shocks him that she even noticed.

“Daddy’s sad,” Savannah blurts out.

Y/N frowns, studying him from across the table. “Sad about what?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” He stares down at his plate and changes the subject. “Does anyone else feel like the pasta sauce is missing something? I followed the recipe to a tee and still messed it up somehow.” He shakes his head, frustrated with his inability to get anything right today.

“No, it’s perfect,” says Y/N. “As always.”

She’s praising him. So why does he feel like crying?

“Where are you going?” she asks as he pushes his chair back and rises to his feet.

“I have a headache. Going to lie down for a bit. Just leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll take care of it later.” He places his unfinished plate on the kitchen counter and leaves.

Tears are flooding his eyes before he has even reached the top of the stairs. By the time he gets to the bedroom, they’re spilling onto his cheeks. He doesn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, he just climbs under the covers on his side of the bed and lets his pillow soak them up.

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed before he hears Savannah’s voice down the hall, telling her mother goodnight, and then moments later, the light creak of the bedroom door opening, followed by Y/N’s footsteps approaching the bed. The mattress dips behind him.

“H?” she says softly.

“Hmm?”

“You still awake?”

He clears his throat and tries to keep a steady voice as he replies, “Yeah. You need anything?”

“No, just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Just a headache.”

“Do you need anything from me? Painkillers? A cup of tea?”

How about kisses? Or cuddles? Or any kind of attention that doesn’t involve you glaring at me like I’m a waste of space? he answers in his head, but out loud he says, “I’m fine. Thank you, love.”

“You know, you keep saying you’re fine and I don’t know if I believe you.”

He doesn’t respond.

She places a hand on his arm over the covers. “Look at me.”

“I’m fine, Y/N,” he emphasizes stubbornly.

“Can you please look at me?”

He sighs. A part of him is tempted to snap at her and tell her to leave him alone, to hurt her the way she hurt him, but he doesn’t have it in him to do that. In fact, the last thing he wants right now is to be left alone. What he really wants is to be held by her, to be told that he is loved and appreciated and wanted.

When she gently tugs on his arm to make him turn around, he doesn’t resist. Her eyes scan his face, taking in the tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“Oh, honey.” She brings a hand to his cheek. He’s been so deprived of her touch that he leans into it immediately. “Did I do this?” she asks with guilt-ridden eyes which suggest she already knows the answer to that.

“I feel like I can’t do anything right by you lately,” he says. “I just want to spend some time with you when you get home, but you never talk to me and you shoo me away any time I try to come near you. I don’t know what I did, but lately, I feel more like an annoying pest that you have to tolerate than your husband. And maybe that makes me clingy or whatever—”

“That does not make you clingy,” she interjects, shaking her head adamantly. “I’m sorry I called you that, and I’m sorry I made you feel this way. I’ve just been under so much pressure at work. That’s no excuse for how I’ve been treating you, but I need you to know that it has nothing to do with you, okay? You haven’t done a single thing wrong.”

He sniffles. “Really?”

“Yes, baby. The only reason I’ve been pushing you away is because I come home with all this pent-up frustration and I don’t want to take it out on you by accident… But it looks like I’ve been doing that anyway.” She wipes a tear from the corner of his eye and kisses him tenderly. “I’m sorry, honey.”

She gets under the covers with him and guides his head to her chest, tangling her fingers into his hair. He nuzzles his face close to her breasts. She apologizes again and reassures him that he’s the best husband she could have ever asked for, that she still looks forward to coming home to him at the end of each day, that she loves him more than words can ever explain.

Her delicate touches mixed with her comforting voice telling him everything he needed to hear soothes his aching heart. They cuddle in silence for a while, their legs intertwined with each other. Y/N shifts around a bit while keeping him close to her. When her thigh brushes up against his crotch, she freezes.

“Are you hard right now?”

“Fuck, um… yeah?” he mumbles into her chest nervously, his face growing hot.

She giggles. “Well, let’s take care of it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, you deserve it.”

She sits up on the bed beside him, while he lays on his back, gazing up at her, melting when she gives him a warm smile. Her hand disappears under the covers, making its slow descent into the waistband of his shorts. He gasps when she gropes him through his briefs.

“I don’t think I’ll last very long,” he admits.

“That’s okay. Been a while since we’ve done this, huh?”

He nods, gulping as her fingers trace his bulge. Although he sometimes touches himself when he’s home alone during the day or in the shower, it’s never the same as when she does it. The orgasms lack the intensity he craves.

“My poor baby,” she coos, using her other hand to scratch the top of his head. “I haven’t been taking proper care of you. We’re going to fix that this weekend.”

She suddenly removes her hand from his shorts and takes off her shirt, revealing her braless torso. The sight of her gorgeous, round breasts makes his mouth water before she even invites him to suck on them. Moving his head into her lap, he wraps his lips around one nipple and swirls his tongue around the taut flesh.

Her hand ventures back into his shorts, this time slipping into his underwear. Instead of wrapping her whole hand around him, she uses only two fingers and her thumb, running them along his length in slow, gentle strokes that make his body shudder with pleasure.

“I’m so lucky to have you, you know that? Nothing you do for me goes unnoticed, I promise you,” she says.

The reassurance brings tears to his eyes again but happy ones this time. She wraps the rest of her hand around his cock, picking up the pace and pressure of her strokes. He thrusts his hips into her hand desperately as his orgasm builds. She tells him he can come whenever he’s ready, but he tries to delay it for as long as possible until he can’t any longer. Then he lets himself go, his moans and grunts muffled by her breast.

“There you go. Good boy.” She coaxes the last few drops of come out of him.

He rests his head in her lap afterwards, dazed and breathless, hoping that she’ll let him lay there a little while longer. Luckily, that’s exactly what she does, only moving to rest her back against the headboard to make herself comfortable while keeping his head in her lap, her fingers in his hair. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

***

Thank you for reading! For more househusband!Harry and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

1K notes · View notes

jedi-enthusiast · 2 months ago

Note

Hello. How are you?

Can you raise an explanation as to why The Jedi Padawans were sent to fight on the front lines alongside The Clones and Jedi Knights/Masters, please?

Of course, the Padawans need Masters but I'd assume there would probably be enough inside The Temple to teach them, despite the war...

I know The Jedi wouldn't want to send their children onto the front lines, so I'm trying to think of how they'd ended up there anyway.....

Thanks in advance (if you do have an explanation. If not, thanks anyway).

Good night/morning!

Hey, I'm doing alright---I'm sick rn, but I'm hoping that it'll pass soon so I can get back to my normal shenanigans <3

So the out-of-universe explanation is just that TCW was a show made for kids and so there are gonna be kid characters doing all the cool fighting and battle stuff. Is it pretty unrealistic? Yeah, but this is also a show set in space with magic powers and laser swords lol

In-universe things get a little more complicated and we kind of have to make our own assumptions based on what we already know.

In TPM we see that children...aren't really treated like children, from a young age they're actually treated more like teenagers or even adults. Padme is the queen of an entire planet at 14, a job so dangerous that she has 12 body-doubles who pretend to be her so she doesn't get killed, ready to die in her place---body-doubles who are probably of a similar/the same age. Anakin is allowed to compete in a pod-race on Tatooine at age 9, a race that is shown multiple times to be dangerous and get people killed, and it's treated as completely normal by both his mother and his opponents.

So we can probably deduce that, while the children are obviously still children, they're expected---and shown---to be more capable and independent than they would irl. They hold a level of maturity and responsibility at a younger age, and this is completely normal in the SW universe.

So the explanation is that padawans' ages don't really come into question.

We see from how Anakin and Obi-Wan react to Ahsoka, who is 13 in TCW movie, when she introduces herself as a padawan---they're shocked and view her as too young to be one, with Anakin continuously calling her a "youngling." From that, we can deduce that generally padawans are older than 13 and---in a universe where a 14 year old is seen as mature enough to rule a planet and other 13-15 year olds are mature enough to possibly die for said ruler---taking a padawan who is, say, 15+ into battle isn't really odd or seen as morally questionable.

As George Lucas says regarding Ahsoka being brought into the war, "she's being trained as a Jedi Knight, she's got this."

And so do all of the other padawans, maybe more so since a lot of them are probably older than her. They're Jedi, they're not younglings anymore, they can handle the responsibility and---if they can't---they're still just students and their master is right there to protect and teach them.

That seems to be the canon intention, at least. If you want to take a more nuanced look at it through the lense of them actually being children, rather than the canon intent of them being more mature children who can handle these things, you're probably going to have to come up with your own reasons why the Jedi would bring the padawans into it. In my fics, I usually go with the idea that the Jedi didn't have much of a choice, just due to what their training is/does as well as different concerns with leaving them at the Temple, as well as pressure from the Senate to have "every Jedi available" on the front lines---but you can obviously do something different, if that doesn't sing to your tune.

I hope my ramble answered your question <3

#star wars #sw prequels #the clone wars #pro jedi #in defense of the jedi

78 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

Text

Love Game 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your fiance suggests incorporating roleplay in the bedroom to keep the spark alive, but playing pretend turns out to be all too real.

Characters: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen

Note: another surprise double day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You wake up alone. The night of reverie fogs in your mind. Touching, biting, slapping, choking, fucking... The kinkiness of it all has you tingling again yet you’re raw and sore from the overstimulation. Beneath the afterglow is something else. Doubt.

You agreed to it. You wanted it just as much as Andy. All you want is to keep him happy and this is what he likes. And you can’t say you didn’t enjoy the thrill of it. It was so unlike anything you’ve done before, especially with him. The whole scene was so out of character. It’s roleplay, it’s supposed to be, and yet it just feels off.

Again, it’s your first time. It’s going to be new and weird and wild, right? Will there be a next time?

You roll over, thighs grazing tenderly, and sit up. The cuffs are gone along with all other remnants aside from the tangled sheets and the shell of dried sweat over you. You feel grimy as you look down at your naked body, your lingerie crumpled up at the corner of the mattress. You barely remember when you passed out. It’s all just a blissed out blur.

You stand and stagger. Oh. Your mouth forms an O as you daintily touch your pelvis. You can feel the stretch still as your walls twitch. He was so rough, so deep inside you.

As you hobble into the bathroom, surprised by the gingerness in each step, you can’t help the flow of your thoughts. Is this what Andy will want from now on? Why? Were you not enough before? He’s always seemed content. At least with that part of your relationship.

The way he groans when you touch him, the way he begs and whines before he cums. It’s all so wonderful so why now? Why this?

You heard all his explanations but you just don’t know what to believe. Your innate insecurity can’t help but latch onto the worst suggestions. He wants someone else. He wants someone better. Then why did he ask you to marry him if you’re not what he wants?

Ugh. You lean on the counter and look your reflection in the face. You blow out through your lips and trail your hand up your stomach. There are bruises all along your torso and chest, your neck, even your thighs, maybe a few on your ass. You didn’t expect to like that sort of intensity so much.

You push away and limp to the shower. How do you act like nothing’s changed? Like it’s all back to normal. A naughty grin curves your lips. That’s kind of hot.

You step into the shower and take your time. You’re reluctant to wash away the filth only because you want to go back to the night before. You want to feel that electricity. You remember how peculiar it felt when he had his face between your legs and the way his hands moved so deftly. Why couldn’t he be like that before?

All those expectations restrain Andy. He must need to pretend to be someone else to let out his inner needs. It helped you too. For the first time last night, you shut your brain off and just felt the moment.

You bask in the steam but make yourself get out and face the day, letting the night fade behind you. You go through your usual routine, with all the creams and cosmetics Andy bought you. He was always certain to get you the best of the best.

You never even stepped foot in Sephora before him, but when he took you, he was certain to ask the associate the most important questions. The woman told you about each product and showed you how to use them, doing you up before you left. It took you a while to get a hang of it but now you feel naked without it all.

You put on a red camisole blouse and a white wrap skirt, along with a silver chain around your neck and your engagement ring in place. As you come downstairs, you can hear Andy’s voice. He’s on the phone as you enter the kitchen. He’s already dressed; a dark blue suit with a light blue shirt and matching tie.

You round the island to face him and he gives you that look. The one that says I’m busy. You turn and cautiously work at starting the morning right. You flip the kettle on and take the lid off the french press to wait for the boil. You scoop the grounds into the glass and turn to Andy as he wraps up his call.

He stares at you as he puts the phone screen down. His eyes flick up and down and his cheeks dimples. You smile and step up to the edge of the marble island.

“Last night was so fun,” you cheep.

His expression remains stony. Your cheeks loosen and you fix your face. Oh.

“Last night was last night,” he says.

“I... yeah, sorry, sir.”

“Sir?” he challenges.

“Honey,” you correct yourself. So, it is back to business as usual. You’re disappointed and a bit confused.

“You slept in,” he checks his watch.

“I’m sorry, I--” you pause and tilt your head, “it’s Saturday, where--”

“Emergency,” he says, “not like I want to be spending my weekend working but...” he looks up at the ceiling then decisively traces the room with his oceanic irises, “well, I gotta pay for all this, don’t I?”

You lower your eyes guiltily, “I can pick up some appointments, hon--”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Erm, I know, but if we need money--”

“When are you giving notice?” He asks abruptly.

“They’re short right now, Andy, I can’t just--”

“Look at me when you talk to me,” he girds, “you know I don’t like it when you act like a child.”

Your eyes flick up and you pout, “I’m sorry, Andy. I just don’t want to let you down but I can’t let them down either.”

“You do nails, not rocket science,” he snips.

You do your best not to flinch. You should be so happy. Everyone at work tells you how jealous they are. You get to work whenever you want without having to worry about rent or expenses. Andy will help you out. He insists on it and when you said yes to the ring, that meant saying yes to his expectations.

“I’m not putting the wedding off,” he insists, “so you need to make up your mind soon. Sweetie, I don’t have the same time as you.”

“I’m sorry,” you gulp.

The kettle clicks as he stares at you. You wait for him to say it’s okay but he doesn’t. You turn and pour the water and place the lid on the press. You meekly glance over your shoulder and face him as you wait for the coffee to steep.

“You know what I expect. I don’t think it’s a hard ask at all. You take care of the house, I take care of you,” he taps his fingers on his phone case, “simple.”

The last word is sharp. It says a lot; it’s simple enough for you to understand. You can’t be mad at him. You did promise and you haven’t followed through.

“I’ll talk to Gina.”

“Good,” he looks at his watch again, “you can put my coffee in a travel mug. I gotta get my stuff together.”

“Right, yes, sir—honey,” you correct yourself, “I love you.”

He stands and his chest rises. He slowly lets out his breath, “love you too.”

He leaves you with the dulcet, almost flat proclamation. What happened? Was last night bad for him? Did you do something wrong? Maybe you liked it too much? Maybe you didn’t play the role well enough?

Oh, you don’t know. You love Andy so much and you only want to do what’s right but sometimes it seems like there is no right with him. You look at the clock, a few more minutes and you can pour the coffee. It has to be just perfect, like everything else. Not too weak or strong. Exactly as he prefers.

💕

You wile away the time on your own. It used to be that you longed for time off, to catch up on your favourite shows, to do your hobbies, but now, you have too much of it. You watched everything, you’re bored of crocheting and diamond art, and your focus is split into pieces. You’re restless and lost in the large empty house.

It makes you even more nervous about the future. You thought have a ring, having Andy, having a place to live, would make all a bit more stable. Nope. Now you’re terrified that every day is going to be as lonely and tedious.

You make yourself sit down with a bridal magazine. There is stuff to be done. You just like to procrastinate. It’s a habit you’ve yet to break since your college days. Those get further and further behind you yet you don’t feel any wiser.

Another point of envy you don’t quite understand. Marciana at the salon loves talking about the wedding, she has so many questions, and yet you don’t have the answers. She tells you all the time how she can’t wait to get married and do it all. You find it all a bit too much.

It’s not just flowers and a dress and the ring; it’s catering and music and guests and cutlery and too much! You asked Andy what he liked for wedding colours and he told you he didn’t care. He says it’s a woman’s thing to plan the wedding.

Gina said her mom helped her with her wedding. Well, you wish you had a mom to ask. The girls at work gave you some suggestions and tried to help but work always comes first. They’re your coworkers, not your friends after all.

You still haven’t even booked the dress appointment. You don’t have anyone to go with and you feel ridiculous going alone. Andy can’t come, even after you said you don’t care if he sees you. He says it’s tradition.

So you’re back to square one. You have an aunt who sends you a text now and again but not much else. The more you think of everything you don’t have and never had, the more you wonder how you ended up with Andy. He’s too good for you and you’re not the only one to think so.

You close the magazine and mope at the pretty model on the front in her veil. You’re not going to look like that. She’s smiling and happy and you’re just stressed. Maybe you could just go to the courthouse. That way you won’t have to stand in front of the empty pews on your side.

Before you can sink further into doom, the bell rings and you jolt up. Huh? You can’t remember the last time someone stopped by. In the early days, one of the neighbours stopped by to introduce herself and you noticed the other women across the street, watching from a porch. She never came back. You realised after they were trying to find fodder for their gossip.

You get up, worried it’s another nosy neighbour. The bell rings again at your reluctant pace and you speed up. You peek out the window beside the door and see a man bouncing on the balls of his feet. Maybe it’s a delivery.

You flip the lock and push down on the lever, inching the door open enough to see through. You give an uneasy smile. The man stills and shoves his hands in his pockets. He looks you up and down and you blink at the striking resemblance. His hair is different, shaved around the sides, longer on top, he wears a mustache instead of a beard, and he sports a short sleeved turtle-neck and cream-coloured pants. Despite all that, he reminds you of Andy.

“Uh, hello?” You stammer.

“Hey, darling,” he winks and pulls a hand free, putting it on the doorframe as he leans in, one foot hooked on the other, toe digging into the mat. “Is Andrew around?”

“Andrew? No,” you answer tentatively.

“Oh man, I don’t got the wrong place, do I?” He pushes himself straight and reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out his phone and squints, tapping on the screen.

“No, uh, no Andy’s not home,” you clear your throat, keeping your hand tight on the inner handle.

“Andy, right. He hates Andrew,” he scoffs, “I was thinking you might be too young so I wasn’t sure,” he snickers and shakes his head, “well, I got a delivery for the old man. Well, he put a name on it...”

He swipes on his phone and reads out your name. It can’t be a mistake. You feel a little less stressed now.

“Sure, that’s me,” you confirm.

“Great, wait one minute,” he holds up a finger.

You have no other choice but to do just that. He turns and bounces down the steps, jogging back up the walk of the perfectly trimmed lawn and vibrant garden planted inside the white picket. The man goes to a black cube van and opens the back doors. He shuts the door as he hugs a basket in his other arm.

You watch him dumbly as he returns to you and holds out the basket. You take it, surprised at the gesture. Andy can be sweet but this morning was rough. He seemed to be in a hall of a mood. Even after what you did the last night.

Maybe that was it? Maybe he freaked himself out. He had gotten pretty carried away. Well, this is as good an apology as you’ve ever got.

“Old man loves you,” the man purrs with a crooked smirk. His timbre strikes you as familiar, gravelly and gritty, as if you’ve heard it before. It’s almost as if you can feel his breath against your throat.

You look over the basket at him and smile, “uh, yeah, thanks, er...”

“Lloyd,” he answers, “I’m an old friend. I owed him a favour.”

“Well, it’s very sweet of you to bring this by,” you say.

“Ah, you know, I just do what I’m told,” he drawls. His gaze is close to a leer and makes you want to shiver.

“Yeah, well, um, thanks again, but I...” you glance over your shoulder.

“You got a wedding to plan, Mrs. Barber,” he spouts, “you must be a busy lady. Lucky at that.”

You face him again and wince, “yep...”

“You make sure you have some of that wine, sweetheart,” he points to the ribbon around the bottle’s neck, “you earned it.”

“Uh, oh, okay,” you shake your head, “that’s... kind.”

“And say hello to the old man for me. Remember, Lloyd,” he winks as he backs up, “have a good night, baby girl.”

He leaves and you stand with the basket, heavy in your arms as the rest of you sinks down too. You have a strange feeling about the unexpected delivery and that man especially. You feel as if you’ve met before. Maybe it’s that he reminds you of Andy.

Well, no use in overthinking that as well. You won’t complain for a surprise, especially one as nice as this.

#andy barber #lloyd hansen #dark andy barber #dark lloyd hansen #dark!andy barber #dark!lloyd hansen #andy barber x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the gray man #defending jacob #au #love game

143 notes · View notes

starcurtain · 27 days ago

Note

Your post about Alhaitham, Aranara lore, and the issue of fandoms confusing canon with social media promotion was so good!

I have some questions. I only entered the fandom a year ago, and I still haven't caught up on all the events I missed (though I am caught up on archon quests and most character quests). If you have time, could you please share any other examples you have of people popularizing a headcanon and pretending like it's canon?

I have a theory of one. I've noticed a lot of fics portraying Kaeya, Rosaria, and Venti are all drinking buddies at Angel's Share. And as much as I love the idea, I'm not sure I can find a canon source for this. I made a post asking about this once, and the only thing anyone gave me was that cutscene towards the end of the first Windblume. But that only shows Kaeya and Rosaria drinking together; Venti isn't there. Am I right that the three of them being drinking buddies is just fanon?

Thank you!!

I admittedly started playing Genshin a little later than some, so I missed out on many of the original Mondstadt events. Although I've tried to catch up on them via cutscenes and summaries, there are some nuances I'm surely missing, so it's a bit harder for me to judge based on earlier stuff. However, it seems fairly unlikely that Venti and Kaeya are actually good drinking buddies, for a couple reasons:

Even when they are in the same bar, they don't even speak directly to each other, let alone drink together. During Jean's birthday event, both Venti and Kaeya come to Jean's party at the Angel's Share, but once the alcohol starts flowing, Venti sits at the bar with Diluc, while Kaeya goes off to drink in the corner by himself.

Presumably, if they were actual drinking buddies, they would have sat together.

There's also the fact that Kaeya and Venti's relationship seems to be somewhat catty, especially earlier in Genshin's story.

In the 1.4 Windblume event, Paimon literally says that Venti and Kaeya's conversation has devolved into a "coercion contest" where they're both trying to get the better of each other. It's not aggressive and it's largely played for jokes, but it's also not Genshin's typical "I'll do anything for you because you're my friend" level of niceness.

Even way back in the 1.4 Windblume, there are some lines, especially from Kaeya, that are very loaded (and Venti gets his own digs in too lol):

I, for one, think it's pretty much impossible that Kaeya hasn't known Venti's identity all along; Kaeya's entire early character hinges around just knowing way the hell more than anyone else in Mondstadt (with little explanation for how, in some cases). With that in mind, Kaeya--a Khaenri'ahn--asking Venti--an archon--if he's willing to take Kaeya on as a student is a pretty heavy statement.

This scene leads into the one where Kaeya (supposedly) writes a poem in hilichurlian that could be read as a threat toward Venti. There's some debate whether that is actually true and whether Kaeya intended it that way, but the ambiguity still suggests Kaeya knows Venti's true identity and is, at the very least, testing the waters and pushing the envelop to see how far Barbatos will tolerate an "enemy" in his territory.

Even all the way to Kaeya's hangout, Venti and Kaeya's interactions are definitely sarcastic and a bit (humorously) snide, with Kaeya unsubtly using the fact that he knows Venti's secret identity to manipulate Venti into helping with the choir project. (Venti gets his digs here too though, reminding Kaeya about the hate poem he so "kindly" wrote back in 1.4 lol!)

Kaeya even goes out of his way to bring Diona to the song-writing efforts, specifically to trigger Venti's cat allergy and force Venti into having to deal with song lyrics about hating alcohol. 😂

So, up until at least this hangout, I'd say that Kaeya really didn't have too great of a relationship with Venti. He wasn't directly antagonistic to him or anything, but they definitely didn't come across as close friends, and there were enough blatant hints to suggest that Kaeya doesn't view himself as a follower of Mondstadt's archon.

It seems likely (to me at least) that Kaeya would have inherited a natural standoffishness toward archons in general alongside his father's huge expectations that Kaeya serve as Khaenri'ah's hope, a blend of "I'm supposed to hate you because I know what you did to my country" and "I'm uncomfortable that you know my true identity; you might take action against me like the archons took action against Khaenri'ahns in the past." I don't think Kaeya ever actually personally hated Venti, but there is a tension between himself and Venti that isn't necessarily present in Kaeya's other connections (Albedo, Klee, Jean, Lisa, etc.) throughout Mondstadt.

On Venti's side, I think that people forget that Venti is incredibly sensitive to the feelings of the people of Mondstadt and does literally everything in his power to ensure that his people live joyous, free, and happy lives. He clearly knows of Kaeya's background--and probably even his situation with still lingering connections to Khaenri'ah and the Abyss--so I find it extremely unlikely that Venti would have asserted himself in Kaeya's space and tried to force a friendship with someone who would have good reason to distrust archons. I think he would have respected Kaeya's need for distance and avoided trying to get too close.

However, being the incredible sweetheart that he is (the best archon of them all, FIGHT ME), Venti ends this branch of Kaeya's hangout with a truly heartwarming message:

This is Venti literally telling Kaeya "I know you're not a believer, and I know you're struggling with your loyalties between Khaenri'ah and Mondstadt. I know you're still not really sure what your destiny is and into what darkness it might lead you--but at the end of your journey, I will be here to welcome you home."

Venti tells Kaeya that Kaeya is a son of Mondstadt and that the Anemo Archon loves and will protect him just as he loves and protects every one of his true people.

So no, I don't think we have any reliable evidence in game that Kaeya and Venti are actually drinking buddies up to this point in the story--however, I think it's possible we could see this change in the future! Kaeya just needs to know (and accept!) that he is loved!

...As for other instances of fanon replacing canon, this post is already long enough, so I'll save them for another day. Someone ask me about what I think of the fanon surrounding Kaeya and Diluc's situation or something, I guess! 😆

#genshin impact #kaeya alberich #venti #character analysis #fanon versus canon #I think Venti and Kaeya have one of the most interesting relationships in Mondstadt #so here's my contribution to clarifying that relationship #also I still have over 20 messages in my inbox #I will do my best to catch up...#I am trying!!!#I'm sorry to those whose messages I haven't answered yet!!

55 notes · View notes

slut4thebroken · 1 year ago

Text

Exposure Therapy pt. 5

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Dr. Crane apologizes and shows you an unusual amount of kindness.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, after care? (kind of), kissing, hickeys, cunnilingus, comfort, he stops being an asshole lol, crying.

Words | 3.5k

Notes | Okay I’m trying to make the switch realistic with his character but it’s hard portraying someone so cold who’s trying not to show any emotion at all lmao while still portraying to the reader that the shift is there.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 4

Almost two weeks went by before you saw him again. With a clear head, you tried to replay it and figure out what you could’ve done, but as you were doing that, it didn’t occur to you that you’re not supposed to care- that you don’t want to care. So why were those two weeks so agonizing?

You were nervous to see him again. Would he still be mean and cold toward you? Should you confront him or pretend nothing happened? You didn’t have time to choose before you were at his door, being pushed in by the orderly. You kept your head down, not wanting to face him if he’s still acting the same.

“Sit.” It didn't sound mean? At least you’re pretty sure it didn’t. You tentatively walked toward your chair, then sat down, leg bouncing incessantly. “Something on your mind?” He asked, making you stiffen slightly.

“No.” You said quietly, but loud enough where he wouldn’t get upset with you for not speaking clearly.

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?” Yeah, I’m worried I’m going to find that same look of hatred that brought me to tears.

“No.”

“Then will you look at me?” You sighed quietly and bit your lip, then lifted your head. He wasn’t visibly upset, but you were still wary. You couldn’t hold his gaze for long, having to look at the wall behind him or at his desk.

“I apologize for my… unprofessional behavior last time we met.” He said calmly. Always so fucking calm. Or, mostly.

“It’s okay.” You muttered, looking down at your hands as you anxiously picked at your cuticles, wincing when one started to bleed.

“Then can you explain why you’re behaving differently?” You swore he almost started to sound annoyed.

“Just tired today.” You shrugged.

“Now you’re lying too?”

“No- I’m sorry. I really am just tired.” You said, forcing yourself to look at him to seem more convincing. He eyed you skeptically for a moment before sighing and taking off his glasses.

“Your embittered attitude is fallacious, it was nothing you did.” He said indifferently. You looked away from him again, definitely not feeling better than before his explanation, especially because you barely understood half of it.

“You hurt me.” You whispered, making him sigh.

“What?”

“You yelled at me and grabbed me. The bruise only went away a couple days ago.” You said quietly, then swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t-“ Your voice cut off as you got choked up, but you forced yourself to continue. “I don’t understand why you did that if it wasn’t something I did.” You whimpered, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry.” He said, but you didn’t believe it. You didn’t believe that he was apologizing for any reason other than soothing you so you’ll go back to normal and he can get on with everything.

“It’s fine.” You whispered, not letting yourself audibly cry even though the tears already started falling.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, firmer this time. “The drugs in your system made you more sensitive to any kind of negative feedback and I didn’t keep that in mind when I got upset.”

“I still don’t understand why you got upset though.” You kept your eyes on your lap as you sniffled, the tears calming down a bit.

“You were right. When you said I need to be in control- you were right. I knew what was going to happen and what I was going to do, but- I changed it because of you. And the realization upset me. That’s why I behaved the way I did.”

“…So it was my fault?” You whimpered, making him sigh. You heard his chair move back and his footsteps, then he was dropping down in front of you, gently tilting your head up by your chin.

“It was mine. And I’m sorry.” He said, never breaking eye contact.

“Oh… I’m sorry I made you change it.” You said quietly, making him scoff a laugh as he brushed away the lingering tears on your cheeks.

“You feel better now?” He asked, but it was genuine, not him just trying to move on. You nodded and he gave you a small smile that you couldn’t help but return. When your eyes followed the movement though, you suddenly realized that you’ve never even kissed him yet. The thought was… disappointing? You’re not sure what the right word is.

“Good.” He said, placing a hand on your thigh. “Would you like to continue your treatment today? Or not yet.” Your brows furrowed at the question. Why is he letting you choose? Is it a trick question?

“Um… I- I don’t…” He seemed to pick up on your confusion.

“I’m not going to be upset if you say no. I’m genuinely asking.” He said, keeping any emotion in his tone to a minimum. You stared into pale blue eyes as you thought.

“I just don’t wanna do anything like last time.” You said tentatively.

“Last time was a punishment. You’re not being punished today.”

“Okay… Then, yes.” He seemed pleased by your answer and he moved onto his knees, placing both hands on your thighs.

“I want to do something we’ve only done once before.” He started sliding his hands up and down your covered thighs, making you squirm in your seat. “Can I take these off?” He asked, gesturing to your pants. You nodded and lifted your hips off the chair enough for him to slide them down your legs. He continued teasingly dragging his hands up and down your thighs, never getting close to where you wanted him. You whined and squirmed under him, making him look up at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. He moved his hands to the outside of your thighs then snaked them up to your hips, resting them on your underwear.

“Can I take these off too?” You nodded, breathless. He quickly pulled them down your legs, discarding them with your pants, then spread your legs. You blushed as he stared at your sex, but it got even darker when he pulled your hips forward to the edge of the chair and tilted them up more. He snaked a hand up your thigh until he could lightly brush his thumb over your clit. When your breath hitched he looked up at you again.

“Tell me what you want.” He rasped, eyes trailing down your body. When he saw your covered chest be pulled away and took your shirt off, then continued the feather light touch.

“I- I want…”

“Use your words. C’mon I know you can.” You whined, resisting burying your face in your hands.

“Want your mouth…” You said quietly, just barely audible.

“Yeah? Where?” He moved down and placed open mouthed kisses on your inner thigh, then moved to the other one. “Here?” He asked, kissing up your thigh to your hip, but he skipped over your core and went to your stomach. “Or maybe here?” You whined and he kissed up to your breasts, letting his breath fan over your nipple. “What about here?” He rasped, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling, not used to him being so soft with you. When another needy whine slipped out, he moved to the other one, working it over in his mouth until it hardened.

“Please.” You pouted, making him pull back to look at you.

“Please what? I’m giving you my mouth like you wanted.” He said coyly and you frowned.

“Want it on my- my… cunt.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes from the humiliation. He didn’t bother with a response before moving back down between your legs and spreading them even wider. He placed a light kiss on your clit, making your hips buck toward the stimulation. When he licked a long stripe up your folds, you let out a loud moan, quickly placing your hand over your mouth to silence yourself.

“Keep that up and I’ll stop.” He warned, making you slowly lower your hand. He dove back in, sucking your clit into his mouth, letting out a muffled chuckle when you gasped out and bucked your hips again. Moving down to your hole, he fucked his tongue inside of you and your hips started rutting against his face as you placed your hands in his hair, gasping and pulling away once you realized.

“I- I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” You rushed out, worried you had set him off. Instead, he grabbed your hands and placed them back on his head, never removing his mouth from your cunt. Threading your fingers through his hair, you marveled at how soft it was. When you gave an experimental tug, he moaned against you, making you do it even harder without thinking.

He lapped up your arousal, the noise obscene in the otherwise quiet room, then moved to your clit, flicking his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth.

“Oh god,” You sobbed out. Because you haven’t had an orgasm in over two weeks, you were already getting close. He slipped two fingers inside your eager hole and immediately started curling them against your walls, making you let out a loud moan. Your grip tightened on his hair as your hips started bucking against his face, chasing the pleasure.

“Dr. Crane, I- I’m…” You trailed off into a moan and waited as long as you could for him to reply to your warning with denial, but he never did. If anything, that made him work harder until he pushed you over the edge. You sobbed out a moan, feeling overwhelmed by the intense pleasure as he never even slowed during your orgasm. When you sagged into the chair and relaxed your grip on his hair, he pulled back, removing his fingers and sucking your arousal off them.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He rasped and you nodded, staring down at him with dazed, half lidded eyes. “If you want something, you need to ask nicely.” Part of you missed when he wouldn’t humiliate you by making you say it, but another part understood the significance. He wasn’t threatening or coercing you like last time, he was truly wanting your consent.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“I said nicely.”

“Please.” You whined and he continued waiting. “Please fuck me.” You pouted, just wanting him inside you already. He stood up and held his hand out for you to take, helping you out of the chair then maneuvering you in front of his desk.

“Up.” He said softly. You lifted yourself onto the desk and waited eagerly as he worked on freeing his length. He stepped between your open legs and held one over his hip while lining his cock up with your entrance. When he slowly pushed in, you both took in sharp breaths. He didn’t stop until he was completely buried inside, letting you have a moment to adjust.

“Ready?” His voice was strained with arousal.

“Please.” He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in at the same speed, making you whine impatiently. He ignored you and continued slowly rocking his hips into yours.

Wrapping one hand around the small of your back and the other in your hair, he pushed you forward onto his cock and he pulled your head back, making you gasp. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders as he leaned into your neck, sucking the delicate skin in his mouth until he was satisfied with the mark, then moving to a new place. You held him tightly, locking your legs around his body and trying to move your hips to get more, but he wouldn’t allow it. He just maintained the same, slow rhythm.

“Please.” You whined, making him pull back to look at you. You tried not to shrink under his gaze, but he seemed to enjoy watching you break. He sped up a little, the first thrust knocking the breath out of you from the intensity, and you clung to his body, fingers digging into his clothed back. His gaze moved from your eyes to your lips, then stayed there for a long time as he got lost in thought.

“Please?” You whispered, eyes fluttering down to his own lips. You waited for so long that you thought you might’ve gotten yourself in trouble again, but he just cursed under his breath and moved forward, holding your head still by your hair as he kissed you. You let out a startled moan, not expecting him to actually do it.

His lips were soft and they still faintly tasted of you. Relaxing his hand in your hair, he used it to instead hold the back of your neck, keeping your lips pressed to his- not that you would’ve tried to pull away. He sped up his thrusts even more and you moaned into the kiss, snaking one hand up to his head to pull his hair. To retaliate, he bit your bottom lip and you hissed at the sudden pain, but you couldn’t taste any blood at least.

His hand moved from your neck to between your bodies, rubbing fast circles over your clit, making you let out a muffled whine. As your walls spasmed around his length, he let out an almost animalistic groan, pulling back to look at you.

“Can I please come?” You whimpered.

“Not yet.” You let out a low, needy whine at his answer. “Wait for me, you can do that right?” He asked softly, making your stomach flutter.

“I- I think so. Are you close?” You said through a breath, quickly nearing your orgasm.

“So close, just a little longer.” He was panting almost as heavily as you were, but even though you still hadn’t caught your breath yet, you pulled him into another kiss. You tried to stave off your orgasm, but as he got close, his thrusts became wilder— harder— and you could feel the knot of arousal in your stomach so close to snapping.

“Come.” He muttered against your lips. “Come now,” You didn’t have to be told a third time before your orgasm was crashing over you, making you tremble in his grasp as he eagerly swallowed down your moans. His hips stuttered before he finally stilled with a low groan, never stopping his fingers on your clit. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He said through a moan, just barely pulling away from the kiss enough to get the words out. You clenched down on him from his words, making him hiss as his hips flinched forward.

When you both came down from your orgasms, he pulled back, nose brushing yours as you both panted, still high from the pleasure. Eventually, he reluctantly pulled out, then slipped your underwear and pants on before helping you stand on shaky legs to pull them up the rest of the way. He did the same with your shirt, helping it over your head and arms before stepping back.

“You can return to your room once your endorphin levels have normalized. Until then, you may stay in my office.” His use of the word ‘room’ instead of ‘cell’ was not lost on you, nor was the meaning behind his statement. This was the closest he’s ever gotten to giving you any kind of aftercare rather than making you be alone right after.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to impose on his work space.

“It is not in your best interest to be alone right now.” The way he worded it was almost menacing, but you knew what he meant.

“Thank you.” You gave him a smile and in return, you received a curt nod. So you walked over and sat on the sofa. It was more comfortable than you imagined it’d be and part of you wondered why he hasn’t used this piece of furniture during your… treatment? Can I even call it that anymore? You thought, going over the most recent events in your head. It wasn’t a demand, it was an offer. An offer that you accepted. And he didn’t hurt you, he made you feel good, praised you. Did he only do that because he felt bad about his previous behavior? Is that the only reason he’s letting you stay here?

Not wanting to be consumed by your thoughts, you looked around the room for something to do. Eventually your gaze settled on Dr. Crane who was completely absorbed in something else.

“Do you need help?” You weren't sure what you would help with, but you figured it couldn’t hurt to ask… probably.

“Do you have a PhD in chemistry?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“…No.”

“Then no I don’t need your help.” His tone wasn’t exactly mean, but it was stern and a little patronizing— maybe it could hurt to ask…

“Oh. Okay, sorry.” You said quietly, looking away from him for something else to do. There was a bookshelf across from you— none of the books looked remotely interesting, but maybe if you read a chemistry book or two, he’d let you help. So you got up and walked over, standing in front of it as you examined all the different titles.

“What are you doing?” His voice startled you and you turned around to face him, almost feeling guilty.

“I- I was just wanting to read something to pass the time, but I don’t have to.”

“Nothing there will be of interest to you.” His voice was almost laced with… curiosity? It’s hard to tell.

“I know.” You shrugged, awkwardly waiting by the bookshelf for him to snap at you and tell you not to touch his stuff. Instead, he gave you a teasing smile.

“If you’re so eager for an activity, I can give you a pencil and some paper. Maybe a puzzle?” He was making fun of you, that much was obvious, but it was light hearted- something you’re not very used to yet.

“A pencil and paper sounds much better actually.” That wasn’t a lie. You’d rather doodle than read about chemistry or psychiatry. He examined you, an amused expression on his face, then opened one of his desk drawers. You walked over to him when he pulled out a notepad and a pencil, holding it out for you.

This was much better. The drawing pushed the overwhelming thoughts to the back of your head, muffling them a little. When you ran out of room on the page, you turned it around and started again. This time, he was the one to interrupt the silence.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, thank you.” You said, not looking up from the paper.

“How are you feeling otherwise?” You knew that by otherwise, he meant in terms of you leaving and the thought make your smile fall into a frown.

“Um… better I guess.” You said quietly.

“Look at me.” His tone was gentle and you couldn’t help but obey. “Are you lying to me?” He didn’t seem mad, if anything he seemed almost amused that you continued trying to deceive him.

“No. I am feeling better, I just- I don’t like it there.” You muttered, averting your gaze.

“Why not?” He didn’t seem upset or annoyed yet, so you continued being honest.

“I’m bored. There’s nothing to do and the only time I leave there is to eat, shower, and come here.”

“I see.” You dared a glance at him, finding his eyes away from you as he thought. “Would you be more comfortable if I provided some drawing tools, maybe even a book or two that will interest you?” You stared at him in shock, barely comprehending the question.

“Is- is that allowed?” He raised his brows and the more you thought about the question, the more you realized it was dumb. Not much that goes on in here is probably within the rules, so a sketch pad shouldn’t be a problem. “Right. That would be nice, yes.” You were scared that if you seemed too eager or greedy, he’d change his mind.

“Good. You can take that for now,” He motioned to the notepad and pencil in your lap, “and tomorrow I will return with a few more items.”

“Thank you.” You wanted to ask why he was suddenly caring about if you were comfortable or not, but you didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his kindness so you stayed silent. He glanced at the clock before looking back at you.

“I have to leave in half an hour, you may remain here until then if you’d prefer.” You nodded and went back to your drawing, but all you could think about was his strange behavior. You found yourself struggling to understand why he would do this— why he would ask for your consent, let you stay in his office, give you a notebook to draw in, promise to give you even more supplies later— it was… weird. And you feared his kindness was due to something other than pure intentions.

Part 6

#jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow #smut #exposure therapy

479 notes · View notes