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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months ago

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— THE CULT OF DEVOTION

SUMMARY : “Hii! New follower here, can I request a smut with yandere dean winchester? :)” — anon

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : Andy Halle (OMC)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, nerdy reader, reader isn’t perfect, chronic illness, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 4.8k

A/N : fob song title. the last time I read a yandere fic was like seven years ago about Min Yoonngi of BTS, I hope it's accurate. this series is for the square for stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. this is super fricken late, but come on, vampire!Dean has my heart (and pu*sy), lmao. Let’s please pretend that vampires have sexy teeth, ‘cause what the fuck, Supernatural? xx

September, 2023

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he felt this alive.

What was it about you that made his breath catch? And the irritating tease that his heart should flutter? As if at any moment his desiccated heart would start beating again after twelve years of being in between dead and alive?

Why did your existence call to him and become the centre of his life since he met you? How had only thirty minutes passed since he felt a gravitational pull from you? Like waves, gentle, invisible waves that weren’t meant to be felt by anyone. Somehow, they caressed his… something… God, his heart? His soul? Did he even have one of those anymore?

He wasn’t sure of anything. But he was sure that he loved you.

He heard your quiet, but excited “Oh, my God.” from the entrance of the bakery he’s proud of being the owner of. He looked up to gloat, but the smile fell from his face when he saw you smile tenderly, in awe, at the decor and then the dozens of menus on a rack by the entrance.

You didn’t know, unfortunately, but as the glass door shut behind you, the sun poured over you like honey. The sunlight dripped down your skin and hair and made you glow brighter and more captivating than any angel he’d ever seen. The wind carried the scent of you to his nose, your saccharine shampoo and sugary skin overpowering the confectioneries he’d created.

The Milky Way Galaxy lived in your eyes when you looked over at the displays, admiring his hard work. You swiftly took one of the menus from the rack, the one hiding in the back, and your eyes avoided the counter at all costs. You made yourself small and unnoticeable by standing in a corner that no one would go near as you whispered—but he heard you clear as an angel’s voice—“oh, yum.”

The door opened again and your hair teased your skin like soft tendrils and every move you made was painfully, naturally graceful. You sneaked a quick glance at the door and then thoughtfully watched as the unimpressive person walked straight towards the counter.

Dean could feel his throat burn and his lips turn dry. Not hungry for blood, more than anything, he longed for a taste of your lips.

He could smell the rose tint on them and smelled traces of it on your cheeks. He could only feel you. The flutter of your curled lashes, the delicate breaths you took, the way you shivered from the door opening. You huffed in irritation, pulling your green cardigan closer to your warm body. He felt his skin tingle as the cotton brushed against your skin, against the tight white tank top wrapped around your torso.

He loved the way your cropped shirt rode up at your waistline and the sight of your warm abdomen over your mid-rise jeans. If he could, and he really wanted to, he’d kiss every inch of your sweet skin to feel it blaze against his cold lips. From your ankles hidden beneath bunny-print socks, to the top of your breasts teasing him from the dip of your shirt, up to your neck where your pulse ran with the blood of your heart, but mostly, to your reddened lips as your white teeth sank into the plump flesh after being swiped by your pink tongue.

You looked better than anything he’d ever baked.

“Hey, Dean-o, how’s work?”

He hated to turn away from you, but he did, to momentarily put his attention on Andy Halle, who came by every weekday around 5:35 every afternoon. His hazel eyes scanned the menu above, but Dean didn’t expect him to change his order anytime soon.

“Work’s fine. What’ll it be today?” Dean’s eyes flickered back over to you. You stared with nervous familiarity at Andy and Dean noticed your hesitation. Your eyes darted to the exit and Dean was so desperate to talk to you for the first time that he considered shouting after you. But he didn’t know what to say to make you stay, he might even scare you off.

“I’ll just have what I always have,” Andy mumbled sheepishly.

“Alright,” Dean huffed out a distracted laugh and held his breath the moment your eyes locked on his. It felt strange that his heart didn’t react, he waited with frustration for it to start beating again, pumping warm blood through his body, and up his face at the way you regarded him curiously. You smiled after a few seconds and averted your gaze shyly, seeming somewhat embarrassed. Dean bit his lip, unsuccessfully stopping his smirk from growing, and focused back on Andy just to ease the blood that had risen up to your cheeks.

Dean took the crumpled money from Andy and handed him his change, but the rest of Dean’s senses were still fixated on you. You sighed bravely and your heeled boots brought you closer to the counter that Andy was now leaving after murmuring a thanks.

Unfortunately, your introduction to Dean was stalled when Andy looked up from his phone to avoid bumping into you. Your name slipped from his mouth in quiet awe and Dean reeled at the knowledge he’d been yearning for. He somehow managed to tear himself away from the place he was rooted to, and murmured your name under his breath, dreamily.

He started making Andy’s drink and eavesdropped on your conversation with him. He’d glance up at you and Andy in between tasks.

He caught the awkward, uncomfortable hug Andy seemed to enjoy more than you did and your calculated gaze in his direction again. Dean couldn’t help smiling at you again when your eyes found his and you returned it bashfully before focusing back on Andy.

Dean wished you would keep your gaze on him. That you’d smile at him longer and bid Andy farewell so you could finally interact with him.

But you seemed slightly excited to see Andy, despite the nervousness that settled beneath. And Dean’s stomach sank, like a mini black hole that sucked in his insides, a heavy feeling inside him as he considered that maybe you were immune to his charms. Every woman he came across seemed to lose their composure and train of thought.

But you didn’t do that. You ignored him as if he were just debris in your orbit. To him, it was unacceptable that you would allow the light of your smile and eyes to shine on someone as ordinary and undeserving as Andy.

He didn’t have a problem with Andy before. But now he did. Dean could point out a hundred physical flaws and a billion flaws in his personality just to make you see that Andy didn't deserve to consume a single second of your precious time.

Dean couldn’t believe he was jealous.

He relaxed his grip on the counter and breathed air he didn’t actually need to relax himself and focused on making Andy’s coffee—which Dean believed was unnecessarily sweet—while he seethed.

Why was he jealous of Andy Halle, a boring ex-military guy? Maybe because Andy seemed to know everything about you that he wanted to know. Why did you give Andy your time when you could be talking to him instead? Sure, it’s just be you ordering your drink or your dessert, but something was better than nothing and he needed to be in your galaxy, to be a part of your stars. Even if he was just Pluto in your solar system, as long as he got to be around your perfect, burning light.

His stomach churned, his jaw clenched, irritation burned at his chest, and he considered making Andy’s drink incorrectly just to spite him. Andy puffed his chest, flexed his arms beneath the Henley as if trying to get your attention, to impress you, but you seemed distracted by a tiny imperfection on the marble floor.

“You look amazing, how are you doing?” He asked, slowly reaching over to touch your arm. You snapped out of your daze when he did and subtly pulled yourself away from him.

You seemed nervous again, your words came late and they were careful only when responding about yourself, because after that, you rambled like a person inexperienced with socialising. “I’m great. How was Poland? I know that was ages ago, but that’s the last I heard of you, I’ve been so busy with my PhD-”

“You got your PhD already?” He interrupted you. Dean smelled the blood rush up to your face again and you stuttered to dismiss such a big achievement. “I’m still working on my Bachelor’s-”

“Everyone works at different paces,” you interrupted him before he could put the spotlight on you and intensify the light. “Bela double majored Accounting and Economics and graduated a year earlier than I did. There was a 55 year-old in my graduating class, as well. He was very smart and he helped me out a lot whenever I was stuck. Every person is different and education doesn’t have to be rushed.”

Your words had Dean wondering what you would say if he told you he dropped out of high school and only acquired his GED? Would you be as kind? Would you downplay and dismiss all your greatness just to lift him up? Would you work twice as hard to bury yourself in the nonexistent shadows just so you could hide in plain sight? As if you could ever be ordinary. As if anyone had a shadow big enough to hide you, his Sun.

Andy just laughed, fondly and reminiscent. He must have caught the hint that you didn’t want to talk about yourself. He must have forgotten and only then remembered the way that you were, and that maybe you were still the same in some ways as you were before, because he changed the subject for you.

Dean felt worse. He wanted to have had all that time with you. To have all that intimate knowledge of the inner workings of your mind. He wanted to have an intricate map of your soul and your heart. He needed it like he needed blood to keep himself soft and far away from being desiccated.

“Poland was alright. I just did a tour there. Met some great guys there. We went to a couple of other places in Europe and the Middle East. What about Bela and Daph? They didn’t follow you here?” His tone was teasing and your exhale was sad, but your words didn’t reflect the grief Dean felt coming from you in agonising waves.

“Come on, we’re not gonna be the Three Amigos! forever,” you laughed halfheartedly. Your reference excited Dean, but he focused on closing the lid to Andy’s hot drink and carefully pulled the chocolate croissant out of the heated oven beneath the counter. Could you be any more perfect for him? “Daph’s starting to work at some fancy law firm in California and Bela dragged her girlfriend to New York for some high-paying job,” you shrugged indifferently, but Dean noticed your loneliness.

He knew better than anyone what it felt like when people weft and weave themselves into your life only to find those threads completely severed from you. Separate destinies. Like seeing himself as a vampire now, having his traumatised brother now trapped in a psychiatric ward for the foreseeable future, and his best friend being consumed by thick black goo—ceasing to exist.

That was his life now: all alone and out of place in a bakery.

At least he had something now. You, and in the fifteen minutes that he prepared Andy’s order, he knew more about you than he imagined he’d get on a first meeting.

You were born here in Lawrence but you’d moved away to go to university with your two best friends. The three of you were focused on separate majors, but somehow the cardings of the three of you were of the strongest metals. You built your resume, prepared yourself with your knowledge and skills in genetics there, before coming back here.

While Daphne focused on ambition, being the best lawyer, Bela focused on accumulating wealth and building a family with her girlfriend Rose. You… What were you up to? What were your dreams? Your hopes? Your ambitions?

You sounded as dead as he felt. As dead as he was. Like nothing mattered to you. When did that start? Was that always a thing with you? He figured it must have been since Andy seemed to be unsurprised by your jaded attitude towards life.

Imagining you in a lab coat was suddenly the sexiest thing ever. Even the image of you with your hair pulled up looked sexy in his mind. Were geneticists supposed to be sexy? Or was that just the porn-induced image his mind produced? Maybe you were just sexy in every way and discovering what you’ve been up to since you’d last seen Andy, only made him want you more.

Dean couldn’t fathom objectifying you. You were too good for that.

“Have you had any flare ups?” Andy asked and Dean frowned as he placed the warm snack into a small paper bag on the counter about to call Andy’s name to gain his attention. But he was curious and slowed down. Flare ups?

“No,” you replied, but Dean heard the jump in your pulse. You liar. What were you sick with? “I’m better now. I think your order’s ready.” Dean tried to act calm when you said that and needlessly took two napkins to put above the brown bag containing the hot croissant to look busy.

“Oh.” Andy stole a look at Dean just as he pushed the cup and bag to the edge of the counter. Andy wavered. “I’ll see you around, right? We can catch up? Go somewhere, even?” He seemed pathetically disappointed and desperate to get to see you.

Your delayed response made Dean’s lips quirk up. He wanted you to crush any chance or hope that he would spend time with you. But you were probably too kind to be that cruel. “Maybe not for a few days. I’m still unpacking and settling into work. But maybe once everything is calmer, we can hang out.”

Dejected, Andy nodded, forcing a smile so dimples appeared on his cheeks. He looked down at you when you looked away at the counter, with love in his gaze, romantic love. Dean wanted to vomit in his mouth, but his body didn’t work that way anymore. “I hope everything goes well for you. I really missed you.”

“Um, thanks,” you smiled and nodded towards the counter. Wow, that’s cold, Dean thought as he held back a sneer. But you seemed more distracted than intent on hurting his feelings. “Before it gets cold. Any suggestions?” You began to walk towards Dean and if he could, he’d pant and hyperventilate at your closeness, even if you were still a distance away from him.

“Right,” Andy inhaled and shook his head gently so his light brown waves shook against his forehead, “you should probably try the rhubarb pie. You still like pie?”

“Yes,” you grinned, bright and playful. Dean would marry you if you were even remotely interested in him.

You were standing right in front of him.

Finally, Dean could see you clearly. You wore no makeup besides the tint that brought colour to your lips and cheeks. Your smooth skin against the light was downright kissable. But not as kissable as your plump lips, even if they were slightly chapped beneath the pinkish tint you wore. He bet your mouth felt amazing.

You smiled, relaxed, showing your pretty teeth. For the first time, Dean wished you’d sink your canines into his neck. And then, your tongue poked out to ease the dryness of your lips and he imagined you’d lick the bite marks you’d leave behind on his throat. He’d love the burn of your saliva on his cold skin, the trail of wet warmth along where his pulse would be pounding with excitement if he were alive.

He ached for you. Could you please just be his already?

Andy took his drink and the bag with napkins on top.

“Can I text you?” He asked as he began to retreat.

“Uh, sure,” you shrugged, noncommittal. “I’ll give you my new number so we can message each other outside of social media, just remind me.” Andy grinned happily at your response and Dean looked down to hide the way he rolled his eyes.

Dean wished you hadn’t done that. He wanted you all to himself. The only hope Dean had that you didn’t return Andy’s feelings was the lack of warmth and heat in your gorgeous eyes, a look which only seemed to steam from Andy’s hazel-greens.

“I do gotta get home, my dog’s all alone.”

“Don’t keep Price waiting,” you teased. Andy laughed as he made his way out and your smile relaxed more into something neutral once you were alone with Dean.

Except, now, Dean couldn’t find words. What happened to his brain?

“Hi,” your shy little smile was an electric current that jump started his entire body. Dean swallowed, but smiled as he gazed down at you, he hoped he didn’t look as in love with you as he felt.

“Hey,” he breathed out.

He watched you still, your longing gaze intensified as your eyes swept over the desserts on display once again. He didn’t want to rush you, he wanted to keep you from leaving as long as he could, but you didn’t want to waste his time. He could tell by the way you’d look up at him with your adorable wide eyes.

“Sorry,” you smiled ruefully.

“No, don’t worry about it. You want the rhubarb pie?” He asked softly. You relaxed visibly at his patience and fumbled with something in the small front pocket of your jeans.

“Um,” you looked around at the displays indecisively. “Yes, I’ll have that,” you confirmed and Dean was only slightly disappointed that you’d made up your mind so quickly. He nodded and prepared to take a slice from the pie. Should he serve you a big size?

He felt your gaze on him as he moved around. Fuck, he wanted to blush. Could you reignite his soul already and just allow him to feel human again?

“What do you think I should try?” You asked curiously, breaking him out of his reverie. He could feel you leaning forward carefully, not enough so your body touched the glass that protected the desserts, but enough so the thin silver necklace resting against your collarbone clinked against the glass.

Dean looked at you through his lashes and retrieved the generous slice of pie from the rest of its body to place it into a small cardboard box. Your eyes moved over his face inquisitively.

“Currently, I’m having fun making Sweet Rolls,” he suggested.

You raised a brow, inquiring silently about what exactly that was and he chuckled, but your explorative eyes still moved to every little detail on his face as he spoke and smiled.

He wondered what you saw. What would you discover about him? Could you see his imperfections? The scars from his previous life. Did you like what you saw? The freckles that he hated. Could you read the pain he feels? Or the love you rekindled?

He dropped his stare to focus on the way he closed the slice of pie inside the box, hoping to hide himself from you. Only he could contain you in his gaze, because he already knew you were beautiful. He didn’t know what you’d think of him and he didn’t think he could bear it if you saw what he saw in the mirror: the opposite of everything that you were.

He grabbed another small box and stole the sweet roll from its warm home. The small confection looked like a miniature version of a Bundt cake, the white glaze poured over the sides looked too perfect to be real. Well, he chose the perfect one for you. He slid the box towards you and looked up to find your eyes still navigating his face. You averted your gaze and bit your lip, flustered. God, you were so cute.

You clenched your small hands and placed them behind your back as you admired the sweet roll instead. He smirked at you, he would kiss you if it wouldn’t have freaked you out. How could someone be so beautiful and soft? You looked just like the sweet roll to him.

“It looks like videogame sweet rolls,” you remarked and glanced up at him again. He would never tire of you.

“Heh, I really liked how they looked, so I decided to make them.” He shrugged. You hummed, this time he watched you as you pondered and turned the sweet roll. You nodded in agreement.

“I like how they look, too, I’ll try it.” Dean smiled and closed the box, placing it next to the pie. You smoothed your hands against your jeans then rubbed your nails together as you watched him.

“Want anything to drink?” He asked, anything to keep you around.

Your eyes flickered up to the menu, your expression was thoughtful, so Dean allowed himself to be distracted by thoughts of you.

At least you didn’t hate him. That was something, right?

He still wondered how you felt about him and what you thought of him. How much did you like him? Did you think he was cute? Pretty? Did you want to see him again? Maybe outside of the bakery? Or did you just think he was nice and unintrusive? Just… ordinary. Not even friend material. Just the local baker. An acquaintance.

“Just, uh… hazelnut coffee with creamer. Small. That’s okay?” Hmm, an unpretentious, but delicious coffee. Just like you. Effortlessly amazing. But why were you asking for affirmation?

“Yes,” he reassured you with a laugh. No matter how many times you became flustered, you were unwaveringly confident and brave. You glanced at the sewn word that spelled his name over his unbeating heart and his lips twitched into a wide smile.

He turned around to start making your drink despite longing to keep admiring you. At least he could feel you, your heat and your sweet air. He could hear you, your gentle breathing and your nervous heartbeat. And smell you, your expensive perfume and flowery shampoo. Even the sweet honey of your lotion.

“Do you live near?” He asked, because… well, you didn’t think he was a creep, right? He looked over his shoulder and you contemplated him. Your eyes locked with his, he watched them soften and then you looked down at the boxes of sweets in front of you.

“Smack in the middle of the forest,” you admitted. He hummed softly and put a lid on the cup of your hot coffee. Conveniently enough, you wouldn’t have too many neighbours. Maybe he could have a look around your place and not get caught. “It’s my childhood home,” you added methodically, he could sense you were editing parts of your story. He wanted the raw and dirty details, but whatever you wanted to give him was enough. “My mom moved away when we all left to start up our lives. My siblings prefer to live in cities, but my mom and I never did, so she left me the house. It wasn’t favouritism, just sentimentality.”

You were more like your mom, then. He wondered what she was like. What was her name? Did she look like you, too? Did you two talk at all? What was your relationship with her like? Were you like your father at all? What was he like? And what about your siblings? How many did you have? What were they like? What role did you play in your family?

And why else did you like Kansas? It can’t just be about the forests. Did you like the people? The memories you made with your old friends in town? Did you like the locations? Where did you hang out the most before you left? He couldn’t ask you those questions now, they were too invasive.

“And your dad?” Dean asked, scribbling your name with a loving smile on the cardboard sleeve. Why didn’t you say anything about him?

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed. He frowned when he turned to see you and your distant eyes, the troubled pinch between your brows, and your pouty frown.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry,” he lied, he wanted to know everything about you. Were you like him? Cursed with daddy issues?

You blinked and smiled tightly. No, please, let the light shine on him with your genuine smile.

“No, it’s fine. My mom and dad got divorced…” He wanted to know more, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that would make you frown. He smiled at you, hoping it would comfort you as he brought you your coffee. You struggled to maintain his gaze this time, but you must have felt something because you waited when you took the coffee from him. He could feel the warmth accumulate in your palms and he waited with you. “Do you… have you ever felt that you wanted to hate someone because they’re so horrible to you, but you just can’t? Like… sometimes you’re sure you hate them, but when you realise who you’re hating… it all just goes away and makes you feel awful?”

Has he ever? Of course. He understands how much it hurts. He felt that way forever about his dad and his mom. Especially when he learned everything that he did about their past—thanks to the angels and the demons. He hated his dad, but he also respected him, and would even take a bullet for him. He even found that he hated his mom, but he also loved her to pieces. All at once. It’s enough to tear anyone apart inside.

“Yeah, I think I know what you mean,” he murmured, it took everything in him not to reach out and caress your warm cheek. But it was as if he had, because you pressed your face into your shoulder in embarrassment, then you did a double-take at the cup of coffee. You seemed intrigued as you pressed your fingertips against the black ink that spelled your name on the cup sleeve in his neat, capitalised lettering.

He bit his lip and wondered impatiently what you were thinking of. Couldn’t you just spill your sweet words—completely uncalled for—like every other woman he came across?

Instead he turned to the cash register and placed bogus numbers in because he really liked you. He lowered the prices for what you purchased and he was relieved that you didn’t question the cost when you tapped your phone against the screen to pay. You were gonna cost him more than he would have liked to admit to himself, but you were so worth the loss.

He grabbed a paper bag and carefully placed the boxes inside for you. He wanted to give you his number. Would that throw you off? Would that scare you away? How can he be close to you without being so creepy and annoying?

“Thanks… Dean,” you exhaled softly. Dean’s stomach tightened and he struggled to keep himself from getting too visibly excited about his name sounding so dreamy and mellow blooming from between your pillowy lips.

“No problem,” he whispered, his voice incapable of being as normal as he wanted to appear. He watched you pick everything up to leave and he dreaded that you’d have to go away to your own life. “Have a great evening, sweetheart.” You looked up at him, amused and delighted with something that he did. What was it? Tell him, so he could do it again, so he could see the light burst in your eyes like your stars had been born because he was the missing element needed to bring life into your universe.

You breathed out a laugh, heat flooded your cheeks, and Dean felt triumphant. He didn’t know what made you smile the way you did, but at least he finally discovered what you had in your pocket when you took it out. You dropped a green bill folded into a small square straight into the tip jar he kept beside the register and he raised a brow curiously.

The countless bills and coins inside didn’t surprise him, but they appeared to interest you. People found him charming. They liked him. Women loved him. Did that mean the same thing to you? Did you like him? Or find him charming? Did you.. love him?

“Thanks, you too,” you turned away after a short pause and Dean really couldn’t help his leery gaze once you had your back to him. You were so hot. Even from the back.

He waited for you to leave before fishing the tip out of the box, he wanted to have it framed, he’d do anything to keep it as a reminder of you. He unfolded it and blinked in shock at the hundred-dollar bill. Then, he grinned boyishly, you definitely liked him.

-> an introduction to creative captivity

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ecoterrorist-katara · 5 months ago

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Ka/taang: friends-to-lovers or the Friend Zone?

It’s almost axiomatic, in any ATLA shipping discussion, that Ka/taang is the friends-to-lovers ship while Zutara is the enemies-to-lovers ship, and that differences in shipping tastes can be boiled down to whether you prefer FTL or ETL.

My first ship was Percabeth. My biggest ship was Klaine. It took me until Mockingjay to let go of my Gale-and-Katniss-are-childhood-friends rose-tinted goggles and start liking Everlark. I started dabbling in ETL because of Zutara, but I’m incredibly picky about it (do not ask me how many Dramione fanfics made me irrationally, disproportionately mad).

All this to say: as a longtime friends-to-lovers enthusiast, I should theoretically love Ka/taang. But…

My difficulty with Ka/taang as a friends-to-lovers ship boils down to this: Aang and Katara’s friendship was always narratively framed as insufficient, because Aang liked her from the start and always wanted a romantic relationship. And imo that dynamic really colours their entire friendship.

I like to think Aang would’ve been a ride-or-die friend — the type to give up the Avatar State to rescue her, the type to commit ecoterrorism and help her get arrested, the type to make her a flower necklace to cheer her up — even if he didn’t have a crush on her, but I will never know that. We never got to see the pure friendship part of friends-to-lovers, because the spectre of the romantic relationship was always there. Before the last five minutes of the show, Katara’s feelings for Aang range from “plausibly interested” (The Headband, Cave of Two Lovers) to “doesn’t hate it” (Day of the Black Sun, The Fortuneteller) to “no” (Ember Island Players). Yet Katara’s eventual capitulation to reciprocation of Aang’s feelings was always depicted as inevitable, starting from s1 when the prisoners during Avatar Day reassured him that she’d “come around” because he’s a catch. It’s as if friendship, even one full of devotion and mutual love like the one they share, is not enough.

And that’s just totally antithetical to what I love about a friends-to-lovers dynamic. I love romances where characters value each other outside of attraction, when they see each other for who they are (this goes double for pretty characters like Katara, whose complexity and imperfections are just as important as her beauty and her care for others). I love the idiots in love sub-trope, where they’re obviously into each other, yet do a bunch of mental gymnastics to remain in comfortable denial (we got a little bit of this earlier in the series, but by s3 we were firmly in Aang-pines-and-Katara-deflects territory). In every friends-to-lovers story I’m simply obsessed with the confess-and-kiss scene, but the version we got in ATLA was ruined by the lack of reciprocation, twice.

Over time, because Aang was written as so insistent about his affections, Ka/taang went from a friends-to-lovers story to a Nice Guy Friend Zone “why doesn’t she like me” story. I mentioned Everlark earlier: I got the same ick for Gale in Mockingjay as I did for Aang in s3, where the woman is not interested yet he still badgers her about it. (And considering Gale is canonically hot, I don’t think the relative attractiveness of Aang is the issue here). But Gale’s insistence was presented as his problem, his lack of empathy, his self-righteousness; Aang’s insistence was just a part of his quest to get the girl.

A lot of people say Zutara is a female fantasy, whether they mean it in a positive or pejorative way. Nobody says the same about Ka/taang, even though women definitely have friends-to-lovers fantasies too. A good friends-to-lovers story reminds me of all the times when I was an idiot before getting together with a friend I was actually head-over-heels for. Ka/taang reminds me of all the times when I was not interested in a friend and they didn’t respect my preference. Friends-to-lovers is a delicate balance, maintained only by unerring mutual respect and unconditional care for each other, and it can veer into Nice Guyism if the writers aren’t thoughtful about why this dynamic is so appealing. Which is exactly what happened with Ka/taang.

#this ship is so interesting to me personally bc it hits all the buttons of things I hate in romantic narratives #and remarkably it’s not even the compelling type of “problematic romance” which are at least interesting #Anyway it is terribly baffling when I see people defending it on the grounds of being a super wholesome ship or whatever #anti kataang #anti bryke #tangentially #zutara #so tagging it just to be safe #though at this point I assume people who block the anti kataang probably have blocked the zutara tag too? Idk #my meta

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yanderes-galore · 6 months ago

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Can i request yandere Poly Princes Cadence and Shining armor concept?

I'll do my best! This is just general thoughts/HCs of you being a third more than an actual plot. Sorry for the long wait! I am now trying to prioritize older drafts.

Yandere! Princess Cadance + Shining Armor

(You being their third idea)

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing/Poly

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Poly relationship (Cadance/Darling/Shining Armor), Manipulation, Slight abuse of power, Isolation, Controlling behavior, Jealousy, Love Spell, Brainwashing, Imprisonment, Dubious relationship.

Honestly, they're such a lovely couple I'm going to struggle a bit making them dark.

Princess Cadance is said to be kind, caring, helpful, persistent, and a natural leader.

Shining Armor is said to be kind, caring, protective, warm, loving, stern, yet playful.

They are loving parents to Flurry Heart, even if I am not that far in the series.

In terms of how you met, you could have been a foalsitter for Flurry Heart.

That or be a guard for the pair since Shining Armor is captain of the Royal Guard.

The darkest thing I can think of for them is how manipulative they'd be over their shared obsession due to the power they hold over you.

In either scenario I listed, they're your superiors.

Princess Cadance is... well... The Princess of the Crystal Empire.

Shining Armor is Captain of the Royal Guard.

The two could easily manipulate you into being with them due to their reputation, and you may even go along with it.

Imagine becoming their third and having no idea they were preparing you for the role.

After all, the two are so kind and caring...

Nothing dark here, right?

They would both be subtle with their obsession.

Ever so carefully they'd manipulate you away from other ponies.

They pay you the most and often invite you on family outings.

Be that to watch Flurry Heart or protect them... it doesn't matter.

The main goal was to keep you close.

Before they officially make you their third they'd definitely isolate you.

The couple becomes your closest friends and soon you aren't even helping them for the money.

The Crystal Empire is already your home, but now you feel you have no need to leave it unless the couple has to go anywhere.

The scary part about them is the fact you have no clue about their subtle manipulation.

They both know how to play their cards right.

Even if you eventually found out, Cadance is confirmed to know a Love Spell.

As a Princess of Love, you already feel like you can trust her like most ponies do.

The couple probably does get a bit jealous when you're around other ponies.

Especially when they both have a romantic attraction to you... which is why they keep you away from other ponies most of the time.

While they are pretty tame yanderes, they have the most control over you when you're their third.

They are very caring once you're theirs.

All smiles and coddling as you roam about the castle, looking so happy.

Poor you is blinded by rose tinted glasses.

You're completely unaware of the planning they put into making you theirs.

They fired others over you... used a few spells to alter your way of thinking...

But you'll never know.

In fact... why would you care?

They pamper you, smother you in affection, and you feel like you're part of the family.

It's toxic, but not in the physical sense.

They'd never harm you.

However, they'd still manipulate you to keep you in the castle.

Your lack of freedom is toxic, yet you don't seem to care or notice.

Why?

Could be a love spell... or maybe you're just naive.

It's best you don't look too close into it, yeah?

Although... you may pick up on it eventually.

For example, things may seem too... artificial.

This perfect life with your two royal partners seems... off.

Why don't you have any other friends?

Didn't you have a family before this?

This curiosity or yours may cause you to look deeper.

Even though Cadance and Shining Armor protest... you are still insistent on looking deeper.

Which means the two have to put a stop to it.

Be it brainwashing with a love spell, more lies, or imprisonment...

The two plan to prevent you from leaving them.

They aren't violent but will rely on subtle/sneaky tactics to keep you by their side.

You always have a guard with you, all so they know where you are at all times.

You won't be leaving the Crystal Empire without them knowing...

You three will be the perfect family, they won't let you fight it.

"Isn't your room to your taste? We wanted to make it perfect for you...."

"Why do you seem so worried? There's nothing wrong... don't you know we love you?"

#yandere mlp #yandere mlp fim #yandere my little pony #yandere shining armor #yandere princess cadance

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greenpurplemylove · 3 hours ago

Text

What Lovers Do (PJS)♥️

→ masterlist.

→ pairings: non idol! situationship! jay x female! reader.

synopsis: There was only one thing left to do when two friends finally confess that they like each other after all the endless chasing about and beating around the bush. Though it wasn't like how it traditionally went, like on a bed or in a fancy hotel room. You and Jay knew it would be wasteful to go back to yours or his apartment, not when the view of the beach at 02:00 AM in the morning hits different.

→ genre: friends to lovers! smut, and fluff. -> now playing: Diet Pepsi, Addison Rae/Forrest Gump, Frank Ocean.

-> wc: 5,8k

warnings: SMUT, swearing, car sex, car sex by the beach, dom! jay x sub! slightly switch! reader, slight cockwarming, riding, unprotected sex (wrapeth t bef're thee tapeth t), creampie, fingering, mutual masturbation, mentions of skinny dipping and pet names (baby, pretty girl, darling).

-> A/N: after a season of midterms, a breakup and a series of procrastinations later, I've finally completed the last chapter. good news is y'all don't rly have to read part 1 dan part 2 (but if you want to, I'd say be my guest honestly) to understand what's going on in this story cause this is like smut with very little plot. this is my first smut ever so anyways I'm rly sorry if it isn't perfect, nonetheless I do hope y'all enjoy it though. much love, Cher🫶

♥️

Seeing two people being in denial that they’re actually obsessed with each other is frustrating.

Especially if those two people are practically close friends.

Take you and your friend, Park Jongseong, for example.

You’ve been friends with Park Jongseong since freshman year of college.

Maybe it was due to the fact that your friend groups were practically mushed together and that you’d more often than not end up in the same class he was taking.

With what originally started with strictly exchanging the notes you took during class, slowly melted away into long and deep texts, conversations, even playful arguments about each others pasts and interests.

But what he didn’t know was that you’ve always secretly admired him.

At first you didn’t want to think the admiration you had for him was romantic, but overtime it grew difficult for you to maintain a merely platonic admiration.

He was a nice guy you have to admit, and the fact that he was practically gorgeous made things all the more difficult for you in maintaining that so called ‘platonic’ gaze.

And it didn’t help with the fact that he was such a gentleman to you as well.

Always opened doors for you.

Paying extra attention towards you whenever you needed his help.

And always letting you order first whenever you needed to go somewhere for lunch in between classes.

Even offering to pay for your meals.

It was difficult. Very difficult, for you to not fall for him.

You find yourself looking at him from afar with rose tinted glasses, your day got a little brighter every time the two of you exchanged glances and smiles,

your heart would skip a beat every time his name was mentioned in any given situation,

and most importantly, you wanted to be near him all the time.

Naturally, you grew closer to him.

Overtime it felt strange, how you noticed his smile seemed to linger longer whenever he was looking in to you so deeply,

or how close your bodies were whenever you’d talk to him for an extended period of time.

The questions started to beckon in your head, was this his way of flirting with you?

And to answer that question. Yes, yes it was.

The reason being none other than because he has a crush on you. But being the outwardly cold person that he is, he didn’t wanted to admit that.

Cause there’s a small part of him that was a little scared you wouldn’t feel the same way he did.

He’d look at you from afar and a small smile would creep onto his face.

He would think about how pretty you looked on that day before he fell asleep at night.

And you’d be the first person that comes to his mind the moment he opens his eyes the next morning.

He would pay extra attention to the things you liked and didn’t like. Memorizing your favorite lunch order. Always saving a seat for you next to him.

Always saving an extra gum in his bag because he knows you’d sometimes forget to bring yours to class,

and that he knows you have this bad habit of chewing the cap of your pen in the middle of class whenever you forgot to bring in your gum.

Mind you he also initially wanted to keep things platonic in fear of ruining the bond you’ve pretty much grown into overtime, but it was hard to keep those feelings at bay when you’re always so close to him.

After a while of teasing, lingering smiles, and small flirtatious gestures. You both were still in denial if wether or not the feeling was mutual.

It wasn’t until one drunk night at Sunghoon’s house, where you basically made out and almost had sex with him on Sunghoon’s upstairs couch that made you realize that you both felt the same way about each other.

Well, knowing he didn’t push you away when you were practically sitting on his lap and guiding his hand up your shirt and all.

After that night you both knew you couldn’t just pretend that it never happened,

so, stupidly enough, the two of you kept on teasing each other for a little while.

Hinting bits and pieces of your private lives, purposefully making the other jealous in hopes that the other would confess first because the both of you were stubborn as hell about your feelings.

When the both of you know fully well, you would be down to fuck from dusk to dawn.

It felt like playing a chess game with Jay during those times.

A romantic, for the most parts sexual tension filled game of chess with Jay.

And yet all the games, all the strategies, plans and moves you had all up in your head with Jay has led you here.

Half naked on his lap in his car by the beach at 2 AM, with his lips messily clinging to yours.

Both of your cheeks flushed. Breaths heavy as the windows started to fog. With his hands fondling with your bare breasts.

Your arms clinging onto his shoulders for dear life as your both tongue deep into the kiss.

You both knew at one point it’ll all lead up to this.

But that never stopped either one of you from pushing the boundaries of your ‘friendship’ more and more.

From the longing stares and touches across the hallways to the private moments that had you on the edge of your seat.

All of those moments has led you here, with your body sensually placed on top of his.

“Jay.” you moaned his name softly when you felt his thumb swiping against your hardened nipples as he trailed kisses from your jaw before nipping the back of your ear.

He felt his pants getting tighter by the minute, his dick growing hard at the sound of you moaning his name.

His hands traveled lower and lower down your pants as his palms settled on your ass making you gasp silently, while his mouth travelled down to your neck.

Kissing and sucking on it feverishly as if he was pouring all of his pent up desire to you after all this time.

“So pretty for me y/n.” he whispered against your neck, leaving a light trail of hickeys down your neck as your fingers caressed the back of his hair before trailing to the hem of his shirt.

Sneakily putting your fingers below the hem just to feel his bare skin against the palm of your hand.

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your neck as he pulled away, a playful smirk plastered onto his face as he sat up straight.

His hands trailed down to the bottom hem of his shirt but not before your hands replaced what was supposed to be his.

He looked at you surprised by your boldness as you took of his shirt, the muscles on his chest and arms contorting as you did,

feeling the tent that was forming in your panties grow wetter as you discarded his shirt to the side.

The sound of the ocean behind you long blurred into the background as he smiled up at you, caressing your thighs as he watched your every move.

Leaning back onto the chair behind him, your fingers caressed the abdomen of his chest,

feeling his chest rising and falling as his honey like skin emitted an inviting glow under the moonlight.

Your finger trailed lower and lower, from his toned stomach to the buckle of his belt,

lacing your fingers on to it.

You wanted to remove his belt from his pants, that was until his hand held yours, stopping you from going any further.

“I think I can handle that y/n.” he spoke in a sultry tone as he eyed your fingers, caressing them gently before undoing his belt.

Your hands then trailed slowly from the fabric under his belt, to the fabric that covered his prominent bulge.

Purposefully teasing him as you traced your fingers around his bulge.

His breath hitched in his throat as he leaned his head back and sighed, feeling your fingertips undressing his pants.

“I thought couples help take their partners clothes off when they’re gonna have sex?” you murmured as you flashed him a smirk.

“Oh, so we’re a couple now?” he teased, grinning at you flirtatiously.

You sighed in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

You knew he was the type of person who’d tease from time to time, but you never thought he’d tease you at a time where you were completely vulnerable to him.

“Are you really gonna tease me at a time like this?” you whispered as your lips curl into a small sly smile while your fingers caressed his hair.

He smiled at you before he sat up straight, cupping your cheeks as he captured your lips in his.

Passion surging over you as your hands wrapped around his neck, taking his lips in deeper.

His hands soon trailed down from your body to your hips, giving it a firm squeeze before trailing his fingers to the button of your pants,

unbuttoning it and gently, stripping it off of your body as your purple lacy underwear came into view.

Pulling away from your lips, his eyes soon caught the attention of your undergarments,

pupils dilating as his fingers traced the hem of it, groaning as his eyes rolled back as your hips came down to grind on his clothed cock.

Purple. His favorite color.

Whether you intentionally wore it for him or out of pure coincidence, it made him incredibly harder than he already was before.

So hard that his pants felt uncomfortable against his now fully hardened cock.

But he knew better than to rush this moment like a casual hook up.

This was his crush. The women he’d fawn over since freshman year.

His close friend. Y/N.

He knew what you like and what you didn’t like from the back of his head,

from all the times you’ve told him stories about your casual hook ups every now and then.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t go home most nights feeling jealous of how other guys could touch you so undeservingly,

at other nights he spent dreaming of how much he could fuck you better than any other guy,

and at some nights the jealousy and all the pent up feelings he had for you brewed to such intensity that he had no other option than to fist his cock in the shower,

thinking about fucking you all to himself.

And here you finally were, on top of him; your hands gripping onto his shoulders, your cheeks flushed as you turned away rather shyly,

your bare breasts all in display for him and your soaked pussy just inches away from his clothed cock.

All for himself.

It was like a wet dream come true to him.

Lust dipped into his pupils as he caressed the band of your panties,

staring in awe at the lacy fabric at hand before setting the band aside, revealing your already drenched cunt.

He groaned at the sight of it. Wanting nothing more than to stuff your pussy full of his cock.

Feeling his dick twitch uncomfortably in his slacks, he lifted his hips as he stripped down his trousers,

feeling himself grow impatient at the sight of your slick glisten, barely an inch from his thighs.

Leaving his pants bare on the floor of his backseat before dipping his fingers in between your drenched folds.

You sighed and bit your lip as a response. Turning away rather shyly.

His fingers soon laced on to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

It felt like time had slowed as he looked at you, his mouth opened, his lips puffy, and his gaze intense as he eyed you lustfully.

He had wanted, yearned for you even for so long, and now you were finally his.

There was nothing more he could’ve asked for in this moment.

He eyed your expression as he continued rubbing your folds, eyes closed and lips swollen from all the kissing and bitting,

he gradually slid his middle finger in back and forth, but not enough to satisfy how much you wanted him to touch you.

“Jay, please,” you exhaled as you eyed the motion of his fingers, holding onto the back of the front seat for support.

He caressed you so sensually, feeling the pleasure surging at the pit of your stomach,

it drove you almost insane on top of him. “don’t tease me.”

“I won’t baby.” he cooed as his other fingers moved from your chin to your hips,

his thumb rubbing circles on your clit as your mouth opened in pleasure.

The new nickname felt foreign to your ears, but nonetheless it made your pussy throb just for him.

“Jay,” you moaned lowly, gripping onto his arm.

Dipping his finger into you, you rolled your eyes back and bit your bottom lip, gently tugging on his hair,

feeling yourself melting into his touch as your hips thrusted slowly, almost in sync with the movement of his fingers.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the seat as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, feeling his cock twitch at the sight.

His fingers went in and out deep inside you, curling at you in all the right spots as the band of your panties grew wet from your slick cascading down his fingers.

Your face flushed, hips circling his fingers like a pretty doll as he looked at how drenched his finger were from slipping in and out of your walls.

He smirked up at you, enjoy seeing his effect on you.

It made him feel in control and powerful, subtly feeding his ego,

taking pride in how easy it was to have you squirming around his fingers.

Lifting his back towards you, pressing your lips onto his into a clingy hot mess of a kiss.

Slipping another finger inside of you, you moaned into the kiss as he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside of your mouth, never giving you a moments rest.

Feeling your hardened nipples softly grazing against his collarbones, he groaned into the kiss adding to the sensation as your hips moved clockwise against his thumb on your clit.

Kissing you oh so passionately, you tugged on his hair before pulling away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting your tongues.

You were rilled up, your soft messy thrust turned precise and angled, almost as if you were waiting for the right moment to return the favor.

And you did so, as you laced your fingers onto the band of his boxers before beckoning him to lift his hips.

He raised an eyebrow at you as the tips of his lips curled, eyeing you curiously as he removed his fingers from your throbbing cunt making you whine silently,

missing the feeling of his fingers around you already as he gripped your waist.

Lifting his hips, he lets you slip your fingers onto the band of his boxers before pulling them down,

just enough to let his hardened cock sprung free from constraint.

Your eyes trailed from tip to the base of his cock, eyes dazed and mouth dry.

The mushroom tip of his dick flushed. A single thick vein trickled down from the bridge to the base of his cock.

He was definitely big.

Not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but he was definitely big enough to have your stomach doing backflips.

All the excitement and nervous tension trickled down onto your cunt, feeling the throbbing sensation swell as you held your breath in for a moment.

Licking your lips at the sight of it, you continued to strip down his pants until they were well past his ankles as he threw them off to the side.

“Like what you see?” he smirked up at you as he firmly held your waist.

“Don’t get cocky Jongseong.” you teased back, a smile creeped onto your face as you leaned closer to him before capturing your lips onto his.

He gripped your hair gently as he leaned your head to the side, deepening the kiss.

Your hands were all over his body, caressing his toned chest and washboard abs as your fingers trailed lower and lower while he sneaks his tongue back into your mouth,

letting out a groan as your thumb caressed dangerously close to the base of his cock.

The kiss soon grew rough and passionate as your tongues intertwined, his shaft grazing against your clit,

pulsating into a frenzy as his hands groped your ass, kneading them roughly all the while his nails were digging into your skin, making your breath hitch at your throat.

“Y/n.” he moaned out as he pulled away from you, feeling the pleasure coursing through out his body.

Rolling his eyes and throwing his head back onto the seat as he watched you, grinding your soaked folds onto his length.

His tip grew red as precum started to leak from his shaft.

“Shit.” he cursed lowly to himself as he eyed the sight in front of him hungrily.

The view in front of him was better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

Your fingers pressed against his cock as you grinded your folds against his dick.

Your slick wetting the bridge of his cock as you grind on him up and down, your other hand gripping onto his thigh for dear life as you balanced yourself on top of him.

You were insatiable.

He knew sex wasn’t a new thing for you, but never in his wildest dreams he’d see you like this with his own eyes.

A flushed mess, eyes closed, your bottom lip tucked as you held back your moans while you grind your folds against his cock,

holding yourself back from sinking fully onto his dick when he knows you so desperately want to.

So sweet yet so sinful, your moans and movements were a lingering sugar like addiction to him as he watches you slowly lose yourself on his cock.

And he hasn’t even put his dick inside you yet.

“Tell me what you want.” he whispered as his nails dug into your waist, hands moving in sync with the movement of your hips, guiding it gently as you swayed your hips in a rhythmic pace against his cock.

Your vision grew hazy as you looked at him, blinking once as your eyes were instantly set on his,

his gaze spilling with lust and desire as he looked at you through his hooded eyelids, face flushed,

his lips pink and plump as they formed an ‘o’ shape, exhaling breathlessly as he eyed you so intensely.

His fingers soon replaced yours, holding back his length against your pussy,

watching you soak the bridge of his cock with your throbbing cunt.

You couldn’t take the teasing you inflicted on him anymore, you wanted him inside of you.

You wanted, needed to feel his dick pulsating inside of you.

You needed him.

“Jongseong, please, I wanna ride your dick.” you whined breathlessly as you continued to grind on him, knowing you still wanted to be good for him despite your desperation.

He cursed at himself, your words stripped him bare into utter desire as his fingers laced on to the band of your panties,

stripping them off your body before shoving them to the side as every patience he had in his body melted away into only anticipation, lust and desire.

“Ride me then y/n,” he spoke in a sultry tone as he looked at you through his half lidded eyes, while his hand grasped onto the base of his shaft,

angling his tip onto your entrance, “I’m all yours.”

Goosebumps erupt in your skin as he spoke those words, electrifying the feeling in your stomach as you positioned his tip at your entrance,

lifting your hips, you planted your forehead against his as you slowly started sinking down onto his cock.

Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hung loose at the sensation as he did the same.

It was right then and there you realized that you’ve underestimated how big he was from the outside as his cock filled you to the brim of your walls.

Stretching you out oh so heavenly as he caressed the sides of your body as an attempt to sooth you while you adjusted yourself to his length.

“Shit.” you cursed as your eyes rolled back and nails dug onto his back.

“Holy fuck, you’re taking me so good y/n.” he spoke as his hands trailed down onto your waist, eyes rolling back and mouth opened the moment you started circling your hips around his dick.

Heavy breaths and strings of moans fogged the windows as you started to slowly bounce on his cock.

His dick filling you up to the brim every time you sank down fully onto him.

The way he was stretching you out felt so heavenly, you wanted more of it. You wanted more of him.

“Shit you’re big.” you whispered in between your moans as you buried your face on the crook of his neck.

The complement fueled his ego as he smirked with pride before being cut short as he groaned, feeling you starting to clamp down on his dick.

The hands that was once your waist, trailed down onto your ass as he gripped them gently making you let out a loud moan,

as his hands started to match with the rhythm of your hips.

His cock twitched at the feeling of your drenched velvety walls soaking his dick. Feeling your slick dripping down his balls.

“Holy shit Jay fuck.” you leaned your head back as your eyes rolled back,

His head dipped down at the sight of your pussy sinking down onto his dick as you lifted your hips,

revealing the sight of his drenched cock before taking him in you again rather eagerly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned as he fondled with your ass making you moan his name as you continued taking in his dick like it was your last.

Where have you been all his life?

How could he have been stupid enough to not confess his feelings sooner?

A little part of him can only swirl in regret as he watches you bounce on his cock. Flushed. Dazed. And fueled with lust.

Wishing he could’ve pursued you sooner, knowing how good your slick walls felt wrapped around his dick.

“Look at me.” he whispered as you wince onto his shoulders from the overwhelming feeling of his dick stretching your walls,

picking up your pace as you moaned his name making him sigh as he relished himself on the overwhelming pleasure.

He cursed to himself before gently cupping his hand onto your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“Look at me y/n.” he whispered a little louder as you looked at his hooded eyes.

Holy fuck he’s never looked so hot.

The strands of his hair laced with sweat as his eyes pierced through them like a knife through a curtain, looking into you like you were his favorite pornstar.

His mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as groans, murmurs and profanities slipped pass his lips as you were bouncing on his dick like there was no tomorrow.

He leaned his head back against the seat, bitting his lips as he feels your slick dripping down his balls.

The occasional ‘fuck’s and ‘holy shit’s slipped pass your lips as you rolled your eyes back, head leaned back while your palms were pressed against his toned chest.

The feeling of his length filling you in and out hits you like a tidal wave as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

His hands moved to caress the sides of your body, eyeing you lustfully. “So pretty for me,”

“so fucking pretty for me.” he groaned as he fondled your breasts making you moan his name rather loudly at the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your walls clenched around him as your thrusts started to fall out of rhythm, turning sloppier by the second as your sigh and moans grew heavier.

“Tired y/n?” he asked as he cupped your cheek, receiving a weak nod from you as you bit your lip.

“That’s alright baby, I’ll take it from here.” he spoke softly as his fingers trailed to your hips, guiding you to spread your legs a little wider across the seat as you leaned forward,

feeling your chest pressed against his and his lips lingering over your ear, he started kissing and sucking on your neck,

making you close your eyes in pleasure as you succumb to the feeling of his tongue lapping against your neck.

A string of moans and profanities lingered from your lips as you felt him thrusting upwards into your pussy in a slow rhythmic pace.

You feel the air around you grew impossibly thicker as you breathed heavily.

His name slipped from your lips like a mantra, feeling his cock graze near your spot as he place open-mouth kisses against your collarbone and your fingers gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as the sound of the ocean waves creeped onto the back of your ear.

You let out a loud moan as you felt his thrusts grazed onto your spot, your hand that was on his shoulder slitted upwards onto his scalp, tugging on his hair gently as he moaned your name.

“Fuck, Jay, right there.” you moaned quietly into his ear as a small smirk creeped onto his face.

“Right there huh?” he spoke lowly in a playful, almost teasing tone. Gripping onto your hips so tightly as he thrusted onto your spot repeatedly making you cling onto his shoulder,

whimpers and loud moans of his name being the only thing leaving your lips as you no longer cared about the world outside of his car.

Though it was unlikely at this hour, if someone were to catch a glimpse of his car, they would’ve caught on to what was going on inside pretty quickly.

The car was shaking, it was almost in the middle of nowhere and the windows were fogged from the inside shut, covering the both of you from sight.

Though the both of you didn’t seem to care anyways. Too lost in each others presence to care about the world moving along outside of your own.

You nodded as you bit your lip, earning a groan from him as he leaned his head back onto the seat, fondling your ass as profanities slipped pass your lips.

“Shit, Jay!” you cursed as his thrusts grew rougher, hitting your spot over and over again, feeling the knot in your stomach grew impossibly tighter as he fucked you harder.

“Fuck y/n, you feel so good.” he moaned, feeling his grip on your hips tighten as you were certain that there would be bruises afterwards.

“Fuck, Jay.” you repeated his name as your nails tugged onto the blades of his shoulders. Feeling yourself growing closer to your high.

His sharp gaze pierced through the strands of his hair as his mouth hung opened and his eyebrows furrowed, completely lost in the feeling of chasing his own high.

“Tell me what you want.” he groaned lowly as his lips ghosted over your ear. The tone of his voice grew desperate and needy, almost whiny as he felt himself inching closer to his orgasm.

His words were only met with your moans and whines as he felt himself left unsatisfied.

You gasped as you felt his hand suddenly coming down onto your ass rather harshly, feeling your slick drip further down the base of his cock as a result.

“I said, tell me.” he reprimanded as his hand came down onto your ass again, but this time in between his sentences.

You feel yourself becoming flustered at his words, almost too shy to answer his lewd request.

It wasn’t until you felt his dick completely leaving your cunt that made you widen your eyes.

Whining at the loss of your orgasm.

All of a sudden, his lips latched onto your neck as he started sucking and bitting rather harshly making you let out a whine.

“Jay, don’t-” you whined as you tried to position his cock at your entrance, until his hands gripped your hips, completely halting you from reaching your high.

“I’m not letting you,” he whispered in your ear as he licked a stripe up your neck making you let out a moan. “if you don’t tell me what you want.”

At this point you were desperate. Almost too desperate to reach your high. You were willing to do whatever he wanted, just so that you can cum on his dick.

“Shit, I want you Jay.” you whispered as you caressed his toned abs, resulting in him letting out a groan.

You let out a whine as you felt his thumb caressing your slit, fueling the knot in your stomach that was bound to snap at any given moment.

“Please, wanna cum on your dick.” you practically begged, succumbing yourself to his touch.

A smirk plastered on his face as he looked up at you from your neck before positioning his cock at your entrance.

A moan left your lips as you felt his hands guiding your hips to bounce on his cock.

“Tell me again y/n, what do you want?” he asked as you moaned out his name, feeling his cock thrusting into you deeper as he synced his thrusts with your bounces.

Circling your clit faster, hitting your spot rougher and deeper, that you can only moan out in pleasure and desperation.

“Wanna cum, fuck, wanna cum on your dick Jay, please.” you whined as your high came closer and closer with each given thrust and bounce of your hips.

You yelped as his thrust grew faster, animalistic almost. His eyebrows knitted in concentration as his mouth hung opened and his eyes closed shut,

too focused on getting you to cum, too focused on the feeling of how good your pussy was clenching around his dick.

“Shit Jay, gonna cum, wanna cum on your dick.” so close, you felt so close to reaching your high as the knot in your stomach was bound to snap at any moment.

“Cum for me, cum for me y/n.” his words were your undoing. Your mouth hung opened as you feel your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave of pleasure.

Your head leaned back as you moaned out his name, back arching at the intensity of the feeling as your bounces grew sloppier and sloppier.

He sighed as he pulled himself out of you before pumping his dick in front of you, trying to reach his own orgasm.

You didn’t know what came over you as you’re hand swiped across the foggy glass before pinning both of his arms behind his head,

leaving him to look at you speechless as one of your hands trailed down onto his cock and you positioned him on top of your entrance.

”Fuck y/n, what are you doing?” he asked as he looked at you bewildered, you bend down onto his ear as you whispered to him sensually.

“Want you to cum inside me.” he can only moan at your words as his chest breathed heavily. He smiled tiredly as he looked at you.

This was definitely better than any wet dream he’s ever had of you.

"Shit y/n are you sure?" he asked as he raised his eyebrows at you, his eyes widening, second guessing your actions.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you to do any-" his words were then cut off by your lips as you closed the distance between your lips and his in abandon.

"I want you to." you spoke as you pulled away, smiling softly at him making him sigh, a grin plastered on to his face.

“Go on then, don't let me stop you any longer.” he spoke softly as he moaned, eyes rolling back as he feels you sinking down onto him once more.

Your hand was still pinning his hands down as you started bouncing on his dick faster as he relished on the feeling of your pussy clenching on his dick.

“Oh fuck y/n I’m gonna cum.” he moaned out as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck wanna paint your fucking insides so fucking bad.”

You felt so fucking incredible around him. Clenching around him in all the right places with his dick buried into your hilt.

His eyebrows knitted at the sensation. Already so close to his edge.

The feeling of you alone could make him cum.

“Cum in me then, give it to me.” The way you were already pinning him down and the way you were riding him so good was enough to make him oh so close to reaching his high,

but your words sent him over the edge as his back arched and his thrusts met your bounces.

You moaned his name rather loudly as you felt his cum filing up your pussy.

A string of curses and moans followed as you both rode out his high.

The thrusts that were once harsh and rough, soon turned sloppy as you felt his cum painting your walls.

“Shit.” you cursed as you breathed heavily, finally spent.

You settled on his lap for a moment before slipping yourself out of him, his arms guiding you to lay on top of him comfortably.

Your heavy breathes mingled with each other as he snook a glance at your cunt. You sighed as he guided you to lean back, exposing your pussy to him.

“Fuck.” he cursed as he saw a bit of his cum oozing out of you.

Using his thumb he pushed back the cum back into you, a small sigh left your lips as he did so.

“Wouldn’t want that to go to waste.” he spoke as he smiled at you. You smiled back at him as the both of you started to chuckle at your disheveled states.

“You look handsome.” you spoke as you pushed some of the strands of hair on his forehead, before cupping his cheeks as he chuckled,

the blush on his face prominent as ever post-sex.

“You look beautiful y/n.” he smiled as he hugged your waist earning a giggle from you, before taking your lips in his as the kiss soon melted into passion.

#park jongseong #park jongseong x reader #jay enhypen #jay enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen #jay x reader #enhypen jay #kpop #jay smut #park jongseong smut #jay hard thoughts #jay hard hours #enha smut #enhypen hard thoughts

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twig-tea · 4 months ago

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People I Want to Get to Know Better

tagged by @incandescentflower, thanks MJ!

Last song: @lurkingshan sent me the acoustic Jimin single ('Who') and then I looked up the Ace of Base song Beautiful Life because it reminded me so much of it lol

Favorite Color: Teal

[ID: gif of the overhead shot of the teal ocean in The Eclipse]

Currently Watching: Besties this is so upsetting. This is what I'm actively keeping up with. This is everything in a week, including the 4 that start within the next 7 days:

4 Minutes [starting this week]

Ayaka is in love with Hiroko

Bad Guy

Battle of the Writers [starting this week]

Be Your Star

Century of Love

Hoshikuzu Telepath [I just found out about this one but it is also currently airing!]

I Hear the Sunspot

I Saw You In My Dream [just started today]

Knock Knock Boys

Love Enemy [starting this week]

Love Sea the Series

Mr Mitsuya's Planned Feeding [starting this week]

My Marvellous Dream is You [finishing this week--i lied it finishes Aug 7]

The Rebound

The Secret of Us

Sky Valley

Sunset Vibes

Takara's Treasure

The Trainee

Twilight out of Focus

Under the Oak Tree [finishing this week]

All but 5 of them are 45-60 minute episodes (and 4 of those 5 are 25 mins), and 3 of them air twice a week. That's 22 shows from 7 different countries, including 3 GLs. And that's after I moved 3 to binges (MLMU, Meet You at the Blossom, and This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans) because I couldn't keep up and wasn't enjoying those week-to-week. It's TOO MUCH.

Last movie: I think it was BL Metamorphosis, due to @my-rose-tinted-glasses' rec and fansubbed by @furritsubs (thank you!).

Currently Reading: I'm still on book 3 of MoDu (Silent Reading), because I have had no time to read! I love this series I just haven't been prioritizing it. Also reading the Twilight out of Focus manga alongside the anime as it airs.

Sweet, Spicy, or Savory?: Savoury all day every day.

Relationship: I am married to the sea.

Current Obsession: Hmm. Does QL as a whole count? lol

Last googled: "Sailor moon makoto and haruka" to make sure i was getting their names right on this gifset I was queuing.

Currently working on: My watchlist (sobs) and clearing out my drafts by filling up my queue so that i feel less bad about being stalled on the 5 meta posts I owe people.

tagging @waitmyturtles @wanderlust-in-my-soul @stuffnonsenseandotherthings and @pigglepiephi because those were the first names I thought of that I'm also curious about your watchlists!

#tag game #thank you for tagging me #typed so that i can stop thinking it

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sirenat-t · 1 month ago

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(I’m Happy For Your Sorrow; Yandere Clemens x Reader Part 3)

FINALLY! It’s complete! The Yandere Clemens Averink series has come to its conclusion after over a year! Thank you so much if you’ve stuck with me this far into the project, and of course a huge thank you to @blackmoonowl for allowing us to use her characters in our own works!

I wanted this finale to capitalize on the horror aspects of yandere, as this trope should always be used for horror stories and never actual romance (I will die on this hill). Please be warned, this chapter contains stalking, psychological horror, attempted (possibly actual) murder, and being trapped in a very bad ‘relationship’. If these are triggering to you, then please skip over this chapter🙏

Without further ado, here is the grand finale you’ve been waiting for!

————————————————————————Clemens was never one to jump into an idea without thinking it over to the fullest degree. Finding a way to get you into his grip physically is different than doing so mentally. Mental manipulation was easy enough for him. People are like chess in that sense. Your choice determines their next move, and if they are easy enough, you can back them into a corner using your foresight and their gullibility alone. However, once you get good enough at it, it becomes more akin to a chore than a game. That’s what it had become for Clemens. People are so predictable to him that it’s no longer interesting. However, you were strange in the way that he couldn't truly wrap his head around the way you thought. Truly, the world had been cruel to them all, but Clemens was stuck in the peculiar predicament of being almost heartless whilst the world fell around him and his family. It seems everyone here had their own way of viewing the world that was warped by their upbringing. Rudolph viewed the world on high guard, Claude viewed the world through anger and distrust, and Percy viewed the world through bloody rose-tinted glasses. Clemens didn't have that. He was emotionless. The facts were all that he looked at, or at least that’s how he used to be. Now the facts are saying something he has never considered before. He is not emotionless, but quite the opposite. All it took was a different perspective.

A final brush stroke to the canvas, and it was done. Another painting to add to the collection. Clemens decided to visit some old patterns. He had been so infatuated with painting you to look like all these different emotions that he forgot his classic style was embedded in not feeling anything at all. And, there you were. He looked at his piece of art, slick paint glistened in the candlelight. Your face was painted blank as a fresh sheet of paper, and cold as a stone. It was beautiful.

‘If only you were here…’

That thought kept ringing through Clemens’ mind. Countless sketches of your face were littered across his desk and some even drifted to the floor in his obsessive artistic haze, but nothing would ever compare to the masterpiece that would be you seated in his chair, face crushed with despair while he painted you in real-time, keeping those sights of your sweet misery all for himself. Clemens placed his brush down on the easel and took to his desk to start brainstorming the plan to get you in his clutches for good. You’re already halfway there. Your mind is swamped with his face and your heart races in fearful anticipation with each room you enter. By all means, you’re his psychologically, but now it's time to make that physically as well. He’ll have to think about this especially carefully.

~Your POV~

It was hard going about life like nothing was wrong. People had been getting increasingly worried about your outbursts and sudden panic attacks out of nowhere. It got to the point where you would go completely silent with a thousand-yard stare, shallowly breathing as if you'd seen a ghost. Any conversation you were trying to hold would be sidelined by you glancing around with unease and choking on your words when you saw something out of the corner of your eye. Of course, it was all the same vision. Red coat, brown hair, amber eyes. Some of the wardens stopped talking to you all together. You remember their words before they left you for good…

“Darling, until you figure out what’s wrong I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you” Maximilian.

“You’re being hysterical…more so than usual. Figure it out…then we can talk” Richard.

“I can assure you, I am not the source of your visions. I would never use that on you, my dear. Unfortunately, I have work to attend to. Perhaps we’ll talk another time” William.

One by one, your friends started to avoid you. It was hell all over again. It seemed the only person who still stood by you was Bernard. Never once did he leave your side. If you were staring into space, he would bring you back and take you somewhere else. If you felt unsafe, he walked you back to your room. And if you wanted someone around, he would be right there, no questions asked. His big heart was one of the only reasons you weren't destroyed at this point.

~Present Tense~

You are seated on your bed with Bernard on the adjacent chair, trying to explain your visions in a way that doesn't make you seem utterly psychotic. Your eyes are knitted tight with anxiety and unease, your mind feeling like a whirlwind of fire.

“I can’t stop them. I see someone in the corner of my eye wherever I go”

Bernard looks puzzled and a little apologetic,

“I see this is affecting you deeply. Are you sure William is not using his hallucinations on you? He may be doing so by accident”

You shook your head. Oh, if only it were that simple. This whole debacle would’ve been long over by now.

“No. I’ve asked him”

You both sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments. By now, Clemens had been in the back of your mind and the corner of your eye for over three weeks. Only one conversation was held between you two, but you’ve seen him more times this week than any other person in the manor this month. It's ridiculous. Why this? Why now? Just…why?

“I am at a loss, I’m afraid…But, whatever you need from me, do not hesitate to ask. I am here to help you, always”

This is the umpteenth time Bernard has said that to you. It made your heart feel full in the past, but it rings mostly hollow now.

“Thank you..” You say with less and less hope each time you utter that phrase

Bernard senses this change in attitude and his face falls to a frown. It hurts him to see his friend hurt so much by something he can’t help. He places a hand on your shoulder, one of the last comforting touches you truly accept. Touch from anyone else makes you wince or jump all because of the creeping thought of the touch coming from Clemens. The large amount of distance between the two of you was the only saving grace these hallucinations gave you.

“I have duties to attend to, unfortunately. I’ll be here to check on you this evening if you would like to meet here”

You nod, your face looking more like a slate than a person,

“Yes please”

“As you wish” He nods back.

He starts to make his way to the door. Bernard turns his head to you, a note of forced positivity evident in his expression.

“Please take care of yourself, my dear”

You sure as hell would try, but there is no guarantee that it will work. You give a very soft and shaky smile paired with a little thumbs up. Bernard returns your smile and just like that, he's gone. You are left alone in your quarters, something that became far more frequent in the past week. Outside, Bernard walks down the opulent hallway, eyes cast downward as he worries over his human friend.

“Bernard” A voice calls to the tall warden.

Bernard looks up to see one of his fellow men.

“Clemens! Good to see you once again. How can I help you?

Clemens has not come for the conversation. He never does. It is a rare occurrence that the silent warden would ask anyone for anything, but today is a special occasion.

“I have been hearing around the manor recently that (Y/N) is unwell,” Clemens’ said in a flat tone, as usual.

Bernard keeps himself as kind as ever as he responds to your undetected stalker.

“Yes, they have been feeling uneasy for a while now. We do not know how or why this has suddenly happened to them”

Clemens nods silently, but inside he's taking a twisted interest and joy from it all. It's simply incredible how your emotions affect everyone in the manor. Like a spider web, everyone was caught up in the wonderful entanglement of your positivity. Once things become shaky and the web starts to break, people begin to fall off one by one. It's a delightful sight to behold, and even more, a delightful confirmation of your slipping sanity given to him by the most gullible person in the manor.

“Odd..” Clemens feigns innocence.

“Very odd indeed” Bernard chimes in.

Only a handful of seconds pass before the red-dressed warden clears his throat, ready to get to the point of this conversation.

“Where are they now?” Clemens asks,

Bernard looks back, the door to your room just a short distance away. He eyes it with concern,

“They are in their quarters, and it seems they have no intention of leaving them any time soon. I have made arrangements to meet with them later this evening. I am hoping I can provide them with some type of comfort”

Bernard is saddened by the reality that his human friend is in so much distress, but Clemens has to hold in his smile at the knowledge that he single-handedly turned the most optimistic bundle of sunshine into a frightened recluse. Emotional manipulation is so much more fun when you can also emotionally reap the benefits. This rush is powerful, unlike anything he has felt before.

Clemens knew better than to just go up and knock on your door. That might be the stupidest thing he could do in the position he has secured himself in. No, this psychological game isn’t over yet. You can be pushed a tad further, and he knows you can. You might not believe it, but there is always deeper to fall than you'd expect, and he’s all too ready to keep pushing further and further until you’re at your breaking point.

“I see…” Clemens said curtly.

He keeps his true thoughts to himself with a skilled poker face. No need to indulge in small talk when it will only serve to make him look suspicious. Cold and calculating is his brand, and he will stick to it like glue until the time is just right. He starts to walk off, not even bothering to bid Bernard goodbye, but that type of behaviour is not unusual for him. Bernard sputters out a quick farewell, but it doesn't even register in the ears of the obsessed man.

Clemens has been taking note of more than just your face. He has been observing you in full, and that includes keeping tabs on your schedule. Over the last week and a half, he has noticed the strange behaviour of you exiting and subsequently returning to your room just a short while later. You waffle back and forth as if you didn’t know where to go, but you knew you had to be somewhere. He concluded that it was a response to you feeling constantly uneasy. You desperately tried to find comfort in locations that are now tainted by his face. Even your room no longer feels safe, and that gives him the perfect way to make a power move that would tip the balance of this game in his favour. Bernard stupidly revealed part of your schedule he could take advantage of. How easy would it be to forge a letter from your best friend, telling you to meet them somewhere at whatever time is most convenient for him? God, it’s so easy it’s almost not fun anymore. Clemens walks to his room, footsteps keeping a brisk pace making his heavy cloak flow behind him. He’s got a letter to write.

~Later That Night, Your POV~

Bless Bernard for showing up. You skipped dinner, so he brought you up a full plate. You couldn’t finish all of it though, not when you’re nauseous all the time. His company is welcome, but not exactly impactful. He did everything he could to make you feel better, and you knew that. Sadly, his best only does a mediocre job, but it’s not like anyone else can do any better.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help but think of that vision. It’s all I can focus on. I can’t stand it anymore” You sigh, and Bernard cringes with worry and sympathy at your apology.

“Do not apologize, please. I only wish for there to be an explanation for all this”

You wish for an explanation too. At this point, after all the anxiety, you are sick of telling half the truth. It doesn't matter how delusional you sound, you already sound insane so you might as well be transparent with him. Bernard’s your best friend. He wouldn’t dismiss you, right?

“I’ve noticed something about the visions...”

Bernard’s ears perk up and he waits for your description of these elusive sightings,

“They look like Clemens”

Immediately, a mixture of surprise and confusion morphs into the tall warden’s expression.

“Clemens? Why on earth would you see him?”

You take a short breath,

“A few weeks ago we had a small chat. I don’t know what went wrong, but he seemed upset once it was over. He’s made no attempt to talk to me since, but these visions only started after we finished talking. I just don’t understand why that conversation would affect me so much”

Bernard’s expression became purely puzzled. It's very strange indeed. You both have no idea just how strange the situation, as well as the man in question, has truly gotten.

“I will talk to him and see if he has been seeing you more often too. I doubt he would actively seek you out, so there is a chance that these visions are just you catching a small glimpse as he passes by”

That’s not true in the slightest. That wouldn’t explain the library incident where you caught him staring at you, and the most terrifying part of it is, that he could've been there for about an hour. Moreover, what of the many times people just barely missed him while you saw him from the corner of your eye? It had to be methodically planned for it to be so perfectly timed over and over again.

“I'm not sure… I know Clemens doesn't like to speak to anyone, but don't you think that explanation is a bit too convenient? I’ve seen this vision several times a day for weeks now. What are the odds he is always passing by at those exact moments?”

A very reasonable concern, but unfortunately Bernard’s kindness stretches out to those who don't deserve it.

“Clemens is not one to reach out to people. I have known him a long time, and I can tell you with certainty that he would not try to follow you so adamantly. I will talk to him and clear up this misunderstanding. You don’t have to worry about a thing, my dear”

Bernard starts to smile. Finally, there’s some hope to resolve this, but it’s truly a shame that nothing involving Clemens has a happy ending. Your heart is pained by the fact your best friend didn’t believe your concerns. A while later it is time for him to leave. You don't have much hope for that conversation, but you're willing to take a chance on it. You bid your friend farewell, and he is off on his way. You close the door, going back to your solitude.

…

’So, you want to speak with me..? Clear this up? Very well, let’s clear this up. I’ll make it very clear that you shouldn’t get in my way’

~Third Person POV~

Bernard walks around, determined yet clueless on how to find Clemens. Thankfully for him, he wouldn’t have to walk much farther. Clemens took no risks with your meeting with Bernard. He eavesdropped on your whole conversation, and while he was happy that he had managed to weasel his way into your head so much, he couldn't say he was happy with Bernard. The big oaf has no clue who he is messing with. If there’s one thing Clemens has other than his knowledge, it’s conviction. The German took no shit when it came to what he took seriously, and you are a very serious matter. The one thing that could keep you from being completely and utterly his is Bernard. With how close of friends you two are, it’s as if the two of you are welded together, even more so now that you’re losing your sanity. Bernard is your last pillar of stability, and he was determined to knock it over. He might even feel some joy watching your last bridge be burned to ashes.

Bernard’s eyes scan the area in front of the basement entrance, where they keep all the prisoners. He never liked this place. Far too much negativity for him. The door is wide open, revealing the dark descent down the stairway into the endless hallways of prison cells.

“Bernard.”

The warden dressed in brown turned around to come face to face with the very man he wanted to see.

“Clemens, there you are! I have been searching for you”

Clemens felt another emotion creeping its way into his heart. While he had been indulging himself in the multitude of emotions you bring, he started to feel the first emotion you brought upon him; anger. Bernard was the final obstacle he needed to be rid of. This is the man who has the best chance of sabotaging the happiness he desires so desperately, and may he be damned once again if he ever lets that happen.

“Have you now?” Clemens speaks, a twinge of passive-aggressive sarcasm poking through his words. Bernard is so dense he doesn’t even notice it.

“Yes, it’s about (Y/N). They have been seeing things recently and that has been the cause of their unease, and they say the visions they experience look like you. I know it sounds silly, but they are my best friend, and all I want is for them to be happy. I wanted to ask you if you have been seeing them more often as well. Perhaps you two have been crossing paths unexpectedly and this is all a mere misunderstanding”

It was very hard not to laugh out loud at that statement. Bernard had never been the brightest flame on the candelabra, and this just solidifies that belief into a fact.

“Yes yes, happiness. What more could a man want?”

This was a tone unheard of by Clemens. He never jokes, not even if the joke is cruel. Bernard’s eyes squint with sudden shock and confusion. What’s going on with his fellow man?

“Yes…we all care a great deal for (Y/N), and I know you two have not gotten along in the past, but don’t you wish to help them in their stressful time? I’m sure they would greatly appreciate it”

Clemens rolls his eyes. Good lord, he doesn’t know how much of Bernard’s ‘positivity’ he could take. It’s nothing like yours. Bernard’s positivity comes from a place of shallow guilt. He wants to repent for his past by hastily placing others first. Clemens knew about the heavyweight Bernard carries on his shoulders, I mean, the man doesn’t exactly make it a secret. Meanwhile, your positivity is birthed from wisdom and patience. An ideology that harmonises the mind and soul.

Clemens begins to walk towards Bernard, each step is slow and methodical. His face was blank as usual, but his aura is far darker. Anyone could tell this wasn’t Clemens’ usual disposition. Bernard’s stance becomes less open, shrinking back a little. He senses the strange change as Clemens gets closer.

“Yes, they would love it if this was all a misunderstanding. No, I’m not interested in helping. Not the way you want me to”

Clemens kept approaching, and it was clear this was not going to be a friendly chat. Bernard begins to take some steps back, keeping his eyes on Clemens as the two are locked in some sort of standoff. Neither of them ceases their movements and the more Bernard backs up, the only way left to go is down. His hand grips the railing and he carefully starts to descend the staircase, looking up towards Clemens all the while. Clemens follows and closes the door behind him, cutting them off from the outside world. No light except the candles burning away at the wax they are embedded into illuminating the stairwell. The angle and lighting serve to highlight the hostile energy radiating off of Clemens. The orange glow that emanates from the candles elevates the fire in the German’s eyes.

“Clemens!?” Bernard’s voice is full of concern but is promptly ignored.

“I can see why you two are so close. You both have the same blind faith in life. Look where blind faith got you. This is why you cannot trust your ‘fellow men’. How many times do you need to be disciplined before you understand your kindness doesn’t make a difference?”

Clemens grabs one of the torches off the wall and tosses the hot ball of fire down toward the tall man. Bernard wastes no time trying to swat the cluster of heat away but is sadly met with a fresh burn to his face. The torch lands in front of his feet, catching his long heavy cape with a flame that proceeds to grow larger each second. Clemens watches with a straight face as his ‘colleague’ is almost set ablaze by his hands. Bernard manages to tear the heavy garment off his shoulders in time for the flames to not reach his spine formation. He watches as his clothes are now a burning pile of fabric on the cold cobblestone floor. His peer just tried to kill him.

All the while, Clemens inches closer and closer down the stairs. Bernard looks around for anything. He eventually lands on a long spare plank of wood that lays against the wall with some other scraps from the dungeon. He brandishes it with a grip less than confident. He takes several steps back, trying to gain distance, but Clemens' pursuit simply continues once he reaches the bottom of the stairs. The red-clad warden took long strides and reached down towards his waist. The large red cloak that covered his sides is pushed aside to reveal the sheath of his sword. His hand grips the hilt and the sound of his clean blade slipping out of its covering shakes Bernard to the core. Clemens takes a swing and the blade cuts into the wood that is held up in front of Bernard’s face. The poor, kind, and frightened warden’s heart pulsates harder than it ever has in this manor. Another hit of the short sword slices into the middle of the wood, and one last side swing made it so the wood was cut in half. Clemens swings his sword upwards into the bottom of the feeble wood, successfully startling Bernard enough to get him to relinquish his grip on the plank. The blade comes scarily close to Bernard’s chest, and he watches Clemens toss the piece of wood past him, leaving him defenceless. The sound of the wood hitting the cell door behind him echoes through the chambers. Before Bernard could do anything to reason with the stoic German, the cold blade of his short sword was placed to his throat.

“Even now, I can't say I feel any remorse” Clemens states dryly,

Clemens’ insane stare leers down into Bernard’s soul, the tall man’s brown eyes filled with shocked distress. One man is filled with apathy while the other is filled with horror.

“I don't understand. Why are you doing this!?”

The sharp metal pressed harder against Bernard’s neck, causing him to wince.

“Because I want to. No matter how unreasonable it may be”

It became silent for a moment minus the sounds of the prisoners' moans and cries of anguish echoing faintly through the cold damp corridors. Clemens inspects the emotion on his foe’s face. A grimace, tightly knit eyebrows, and trembling lips that fail to conceal his terror. Perfect. Fear is exactly what should be felt. Clemens begins to speak again, his tone as cold as the dungeon itself.

“(Y/N) is far more knowledgeable than I gave them credit for. I thought I had it all figured out, but I was wrong. They showed me the truth, and it was disgusting. I first admired their wisdom, but now I simply admire every part of them. You understand, yes? You are their friend after all”

Bernard’s mind is a whirlwind of questions, not all of which will be answered by the time Clemens is done with him. The distant sounds of prisoners wailing for freedom added to the tall warden’s unease.

“What ‘truth’..? None of this makes sense!”

Clemens sighs. Of course, Bernard wouldn't understand, and why would he expect him to? He leans down towards the man who is shakily kneeling before him, face becoming harsh and scolding,

“Do you have a brain in that large head of yours, or is it all empty space?”

Bernard’s eyes shot wide open. He had never heard Clemens speak in such a way. Truly, his friend is almost a completely different man now.

“That ‘talk’ we had was more than a simple conversation, it was an epiphany. Never once had I doubted my intelligence. If I am one thing, it is logical. I trust everyone here knows that very well. That, however, was false. I was as blind as the next damned man. The whole time, I had been driven by the denial, fear, and anger of my emotions. I thought I was better than what my heart told me, that I had cut it out of me long ago, but I have been listening to it every day.”

Clemens grip on his short sword tightens little by little as he recounts the way you destroyed him. Slowly, his knuckles turn white with the burning hatred he feels towards your kind wisdom, but the deep respect and love he has for your intelligence in an area previously thought to be useless by him.

“I have humanity, and I hate that. I hate that they made me look at myself for what I truly am. A petty, emotional human. They made me the most miserable man here, but now I have found a way to be happy…and that is to ruin them.”

Clemens’ arm thrust out and grappled into Bernard's undershirt, pulling the frightened man towards him with much force. His short sword is tossed off behind his cloak. Bernard’s trembling hands could only hold on to the German’s arm for stability, too blinded by his steadfast kinship towards his fellow men to try and tear himself away.

Clemens is still his friend, right? A friend that never talked to him, never showed up, liked him, or even tolerated him…oh.

Clemens decides he hasn't had enough. No, He has to cut Bernard even deeper, but not with his sword, no. With something even worse. With a tone too cold for Bernard’s liking, Clemens leans forward and utters in a manner too chilling for even this dungeon,

“Would you like to know something? They have been telling the truth. I have been watching them, following them every day, and you didn’t believe them”

At that moment, Bernard felt like his heart had been stabbed. He didn't believe his best friend because he wanted to assume the best in his peers. All you asked for was some faith in your experiences, and he couldn't even give you that. Maybe if he believed you, he wouldn't be in this mess.

“Do you still wish to call yourself their friend after you failed to help them?”

Bernard’s eyes became downcast. Clemens is right, isn’t he? What kind of friend doesn't support their loved ones?

“I-...” Bernard couldn't find the words, but maybe there were none to say anyway.

Clemens felt satisfied when nothing else came out of the large man’s mouth. With the extra strength granted by the determination to secure you for himself, he tightens his grip on Bernard’s white undershirt and hoists him up until his knees are not touching the ground anymore.

“I almost feel sorry for you. No brains and no sympathy”

Clemens had premeditated the place where he met Bernard. The dungeon was perfect. He has Bernard backed into the hallway with the first prison cell. The cell door isn't closed, and the space is enough for him to slip his hand in, open it, and shove Bernard inside. And that's exactly what he did. In one quick movement, the iron door was pulled back. The heavily rusty hinges groaning from the speed at which the door was forced open, and Bernard was thrown backward inside. It took a lot of strength, but when you're as fiercely determined as Clemens and as shocked as Bernard, it becomes possible. Bernard lands against the cold stone with a thud and hasn’t the speed to pick himself up before the iron door is slammed shut. The last words Clemens hears is his fellow man pleading for mercy.

“Clemens, no- WAIT!”

Some banging on the door ensued, but it didn't matter. Those doors are impenetrable. Bernard wouldn't die, at least he won’t if someone finds him in time. Either way, Clemens now has some time to figure out how to deal with Bernard if he manages to get out. It will be a while yet until someone has a shift in the dungeon. Clemens walked off, ignoring the banging and pleas for escape from his imprisoned peer. He ascends the stairs and shuts the dungeon door, leaving no sunlight to reach into the cold dark space. He takes a deep breath. That took long enough. His hand reaches into his pocket, feeling the folded letter he forged. Clemens had long since finished that note, and it was convincing enough. Bernard’s writing was easy to replicate; highly emotional with bad printing. It was harder to fake the shoddy handwriting than it was to actually forge the contents of the letter. Now all that’s left is to drop it off. He silently wades through the halls, making his way to your door. He’d known which room was yours by now. Funny how weeks of stalking will reveal that info. Making sure that no one is around to see, he slips the tip of the letter beneath your door and goes on his way. Time to wait.

~Your POV~

Meanwhile, you are trying to get ready for bed. You turn around to walk to your desk when you notice something by the foot of your door. You go over and pick it up. It reads;

‘Dear (Y/N). I understand you are still feeling unwell and I want to help you as much as I can. You know I care deeply for you and hate seeing you hurt. I would like to invite you to the Gold Wing common room tomorrow at four o’clock in the morning. I understand this hour is quite early, but I felt it would provide you with some ease knowing it would be only the two of us awake. I can bring tea as well. Have a good night.’

Bernard

Looks like you should go to sleep earlier than you normally do, but after hours of tossing, turning, and laying on your bed, you couldn’t sleep. You just wanted to be with your friend. It isn't necessarily Clemens that made you so unstable, it was the fact that no one believes you when you see him. You've heard the ‘gaslighting’ jokes back in your old life in the modern world, but god, actually experiencing it makes it so it’s really not funny anymore. You’ve done every psychological trick in the book. Brushing it off, going to other places, being with other people, and taking time for yourself. Nothing changed. In fact, it got worse. It’s gotten to the point where you think you see him in places that are simply impossible. Through the window of your room was the worst one. Your quarters are so high up in the mansion that it would be impossible for anyone to get that high, let alone keep themselves pulled up enough to peer into your room, but facts didn’t matter anymore. Nothing has made sense since the fateful day you talked with the red-clad warden. Deep down you believe these visions are a product of hyper-paranoia, but paranoia has the silly little effect of embedding itself into the very fabric of your reality.

The letter is sweet but strange. The nice part is that it will be just you and your best friend, and that support was one you simply could not afford to lose. You were so desperate from anyone safe to be around that even requesting to meet at strange hours in the morning just seemed like him trying to be considerate of your predicament. You will do anything to restore normalcy, and if becoming an early bird is the way to do that then so be it. Normally, you’d be terrified of this place at such an hour, but it couldn’t be any more terrifying than it is during the day. Some candles are lit, signifying the beginning of a new day. Luckily for you, Matthew’s intrinsic connection to the manor acts as some form of a clock. The halls are much dimmer than usual, but it’s just bright enough to make your way to your destination. These are ungodly hours to be awake. The sound of your footsteps is quiet, barely audible as you walk faster than average in hopes of clearing your buzzing mind.

Simultaneously, it is time for a certain someone to finally confront you. Truth be told, Clemens was worried about a confrontation. It is imperative you reach a certain level of brokenness before he shows his face in full to you. By now, all the times he let you spot him from the corner of your vision before vanishing in the blink of an eye will have taken enough toll on your psyche. Even better, the constant doubt you receive from everyone else pushes you further to the brink. Your friends help to break you without even noticing.

Yes, you may be trapped in here with all of them, but you have not had the same traumatic experiences as them, and a fresh mind is a fragile mind. It is much easier to get under your skin than the average inhabitant of the manor, and like always, he is correct. You are sufficiently cracked in the ways of mental stability. The cold static environment of the manor only served to add to this spiral of insanity. Sighting after sighting, hallway after hallway, day after day that stretched out for who knows how long…it all blended together. Perfect to get you to crumble even faster. There’s only one move left to play before this little game of psychological chess is over. Checkmate.

Clemens staked out near your room that night. It wasn't too difficult. Even if someone passed by in the hallway, with enough apathy you can make anything look passable. He knew it was a matter of time until you came out, and sure enough, he heard exactly what he was searching for. The sound of creaking door hinges broke the silence through the dark hallway. There you are, looking both ways before starting your little panic parade down the hall, and finally, no Bernard to get in his way. He swiftly follows, ensuring his footsteps are kept in time with yours to not give away his position. You walked with urgency, your hair flowed in the small breeze you made for yourself. Your hands are held to your chest, and if they aren't, they are tangled in your hair, almost as if you were trying to forcefully pull the thoughts of fear and paranoia directly from your head. It was simply precious. How he wishes to be behind you, hands laced in your hair, watching you twitch and squirm as he takes your place in trying to pull those thoughts out, loving your despair as you both come up unsuccessful. Unfortunately, it’s too late for either of you to get rid of each other. You’ve cemented yourselves equally in the other’s mind, and there's certainly no going back to the way things were and Clemens is all too happy to welcome this exhilarating change. A new miserable expression for him to heed every day. Do not be mistaken, it’s not just your face he admires. It’s your mind, your words, your impact, your ideologies. You’re the antithesis to his worldview, and he wished for nothing more than to control you, the source of everyone's hope, directly in the palm of his hand and make you a pawn for his contentment.

You stop pacing to take a short breather in an open foyer. The room is cold, but the chills of anxiety are colder than that of the air. Your breathing is heavier than it normally would be. You simply couldn't understand. Why could nobody see what was happening? Are you truly starting to lose it in here? Why did this only start happening after one conversation? You’ve only seen his full face twice since that day, and you felt more awful each time you caught a glimpse of that cursed visage of him. You are starting to think that it really is all in your head until you hear something. A misaligned footstep. You're not alone. You immediately turn around only to be met with a face most horrifying.

“(Y/N).”

Clemens spoke in his usual tone of voice. He wore his usual expression too, unreadable. After all this time, Clemens, in the flesh. Time stopped for a moment right then and there. Your heart drops with all the speed of a meteor hurtling toward Earth, and your breath hitches so sharply one could have mistaken you were choking on something. All drops of blood in your body froze as you finally see him in full for the first time who knows how long. Countless times you’ve seen merely a sliver of his face, but now you get to witness it in full, and it could not be more terrifying. Despite your horror, a smile creeps up on your face. He’s here, and he's real. You knew it was real.

“You’re here…”

Your smile grows along with the tears that are forming along the bottom of your eyes.

“Haha. I knew it..! It was real! Haha— I was right! I knew you were real!”

You are stuck in a terrifying mixture of terrified and overjoyed. ‘I’m not insane!’, you celebrate to yourself, but that's not exactly the case. Yes, it was real, but you’re also not the same person you were when this once started. Your mind has been scarred by the haunting image of his face and looming presence. Each tiny glimpse you caught of him was like a puzzle piece and now you’ve collected every piece - every detail - of his completion. Now you get to see the final image. It’s an image that never in a hundred years would you wish upon yourself, but here you are, rejoicing in your worst nightmare. To your surprise, Clemens barely smiles along with you. He walks closer, but you haven’t the ability to move away. You’re stuck like a deer in headlights.

“Yes, I am real”

He says with an unidentifiable tone. Each step he takes is another concrete confirmation he is in front of you, talking to you, looking at you.

“You were right from the beginning. It wasn’t the rose painting you saw, it was me.”

The red rose painting Bernard convinced you you saw, was just him.

“I was in the library as well, watching you read your book...”

You remember like it was yesterday, screaming bloody murder when you looked up and saw his eye staring at your figure.

“I was so close to being found. A shame Henry wasn't fast enough. Maybe then people would’ve believed you.”

He’s mocking you, but oddly his face shows no signs of superiority. He wears the same type of face he always does; nothing. You struggle to get the air unclogged from your throat. Your brain is a foggy mixture of outrage, relief, bafflement, and terror. The urge to run away is strong, but your need for answers is far stronger. He’s finally here after so long, and you need to know what the point of it is.

“Why?” You ask quietly, voice nothing above a pathetic whisper

He walks closer, now directly in front of you. His face is dimmed by the small light of the candles, shadows covering the majority of his face. He reached out, and you shut your eyes tight. Unexpectedly, you get pulled closer to him. He embraces you, keeping you nice and flush against his body.

“Because I hate you” He states plainly.

Despite his statement, he holds you tighter, cradling you with a gentle yet terrifyingly firm grip. It’s like he’s hugging you. A very controlling and possessive hug. The insanity Clemens had been driving himself into over the past month has built up immensely. He couldn’t let anyone else know about this newfound love of emotion, nor could he let word get out about his obsession. He knew his actions were irrational, but now that he knows the truth about what it means to be human and what it means to be him, irrationality is always at the core of decisions. What else can we do except for what our flawed brains tell us?

“You tore away everything I thought I knew about myself, and to make it more insulting, you did it with that forgiving smile on your face. I thought I lived above it all. I never let my emotions dictate my actions. I only did what was logical, but you showed me I was blindsided from the very beginning. I am a human filled with as much emotion as the next idiotic sinner. It’s just as you said. Discarding humanity was never the answer. The answer is to embrace it…”

The words you spoke to him did this. All you wanted to do was help. Sharing your compassion has always brought good into the world. It was your greatest strength. How could your idea of happiness be twisted and warped into something so horrible?

“And my emotions tell me I want to ruin you as much as you ruined me. I can promise you that nothing will bring me more joy in this life than knowing you are as broken as me”

You couldn’t speak. Nothing you could say would make any sense. Joy is sorrow, and hatred is cruel love. What could you possibly say? Clemens doesn’t push you for a response. It seems he’s content to simply stand here in silence with you in his arms. He’s waited long enough for this moment, and he’ll savor it whether you have words to say or not. You hear him take in a content breath, slow and easy.

“You may not know, but I am an artist,” He says gently. His thumb tenderly grazes over your spine, creating a frigid shiver that runs through your back down to the soles of your feet.

“I’ve been imagining things, something I do not usually do. I’ve been imagining you in my room, seated before me. A blank canvas on my easel and brush in hand, painting you for hours”

The mental image alone is enough to make you feel utterly sick. You try your hardest to force your brain not to think of it, which is far easier said than done.

“I find your sorrow captivating, (Y/N). I can’t deny the amount of happiness I feel knowing you are miserable. I love you, and I hate that. Even now, I wonder if I should hold you, or rip your throat out”

Every bit of fight in your body has been sucked out. All that’s left is to be frozen in time. He’s smarter, faster, and stronger than you'll ever be. What hope do you have of escaping? What on earth does he want from you now? It seems no actions you can take will fully please him. In the end, he hates you. He said it himself.

“T-Then what do you want me to do?” You asked, your voice fractured as smashed glass.

He thinks for a moment, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest clashing with your staggered shallow huffs.

“Stay. I’ve finally found my happiness, and it’s you.” Clemens softly explains, “You’ll stay even though I hate you, ja?”

You nod your head. It’s better to stay in line than to try and push him away in such a dangerous state. Clemens unveils the smallest of smiles. Of course, your agreement does not come from any willingness, but he’s so happy you're complacent. Truly, you feel hopeless to escape him.

“Wonderful. You will come back to my quarters with me, and I will show you where you will sit when I paint your portrait. You can see what I have been working on as well”

While his voice is calm and collected, Clemens feels his heart quicken. The rush of vitality caused his grip on you to get momentarily tighter. It was certainly noticeable too as you tense from the more firm touch.

“This is ‘excitement’. It is nice…”

“...”

“Ich liebe dich…”

He escorted you to your room with newfound satisfaction. It is cosmically ironic how the two of you swapped emotions. While Clemens has now found the answer to fill the empty void in his heart, you feel empty and caged. Your mind and face are wholly empty while there is a new spark of life within his eyes. You couldn't feel your legs as they shakily carried you along in his path. Clemens keeps a brisk pace, and the air feels extra cold this early in the morning. It felt like either two seconds or an eternity before he stopped. You’re at his quarters. He opens the door and what's inside makes your stomach churn like the pits of hell.

Countless paintings hung up on his walls, all of your face. Drawings and sketches of your image strewn across the floor. He had turned his room into an obsessive sanctuary dedicated to you.

“Oh my god…” You gag on your words as they feel ripped straight from your throat. Your face is pale as a ghost and your body feels numb. You have never felt worse in your whole life.

Clemens didn’t say anything in response to your horror, instead, he gently took hold of your cheek, wiping away a small tear you didn’t even know fell from your eye.

“You’re even more beautiful up close”

You’re petrified to the point you don’t even feel the small kiss he places on your cheek where your tear leaves a streak of dampness, and that is exactly the way he likes it.

~Time Skip~

You sat there, motionless in the grand velvet chair he had in his room. You stare at nothing in particular. You’d seen every painting in his room by now. There was nothing left to look at.

“Augen bitte hier…”

You’ve learned by now that if he speaks as he's painting you, he wants you to fix your posture and look at him. You’ve made the mistake of refusing, and it’s safe to say you’ll never make it again. You fixed your line sight towards him once more, straightening out your shoulders and lifting your chin higher. Despite his vacant visage, he seemed pleased,

“Perfekt”

His voice was smooth and dark as he focused intently on his brush strokes. You sat there, motionless and expressionless for a few more minutes until he placed his brush down, and walked towards you. You showed no signs of fear, disgust, or anger as he neared you. He stood in front of you, bringing his hand up and brushing it through your hair. He mumbled something about you looking beautiful, but you had heard it all before.

Ever since Clemens had gotten you in his grasp, he had been more vocal about his feelings. He’s far more open to expressing how beautiful he thinks you are, how much he despises you, and how happy he is that you’re dispirited. Most of your days are spent at his side now. He doesn’t seem keen to let you out of his eyesight, especially when there are other people around. When people see you with Clemens, they don’t seem willing to converse to you. You just accepted the reality that no one wants to talk to you anymore because they hate you now that you’ve changed, but the truth was Clemens had taken advantage of your strange behavior to weave a story about you losing your mind. No more did they have the sweet bundle of sunshine they loved, and he furthered his lie by saying you didn’t want to speak to any of them out of paranoia and doubt. Emotional manipulation had become his ultimate weapon, and it was terrifying how well he wielded it against you and everyone you loved.

Who you love…

You wondered where Benard was. Nobody has seen him for a while, and you haven't heard anything about his whereabouts. You hope he’s okay.

“Don’t let your head fall as I am painting you, okay? I need to see you clearly”

His hand went to your chin, stealing your gaze and tilting your head upwards. You swallowed dryly as you looked into his eyes. Those eyes never held anything good in them. You nodded weakly, agreeing to his words.

“Yes..”

He leaned closer, shifting his grip to bring your head to the crook of his neck. The smell of paint and old books evident on his clothes.

“Gut. Dat ist besser”

Your life as a caged muse was just as empty as you are, and he couldn't be more happy for your sorrow.

—END—

#blackmoonowl #yandere #not my oc #Hora Aurea #Clemens Averink #horror #wardens

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