#thank you all for leaving your thoughts they were fun to read!
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madbard · 3 days ago
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“Ford is irredeemably self-centered” this, “Ford’s a bad person” that, etc…
Alright. Tell me then.
What was he supposed to do?!?!
Be a better brother? Ford loved Stan! When they were children, Ford took care of his brother as best he could. But Ford was also a kid in a bad situation, and there were limits to what he could do. Not to mention that Stan relied so heavily on Ford that it honestly wasn’t healthy for either of them. Stan couldn’t stand by himself and he wasn’t trying. They were both struggling; maybe pin that on the parents instead of the kids.
Not be angry at Stan for messing with his experiment? Of course Ford was angry! This was his dream college; in that moment he thought his entire future was crumbling. I assure you, if my sibling had ruined my chances of getting into my dream school I would have been more than a little upset, and I’m sure the same goes for most of the people reading this. Of course, Ford did hold onto that anger for considerably longer than was justified, but in this case I would argue that Ford less “held a grudge for 10 years out of spite” and more “never got the chance to make things right with his brother and held onto that anger because it was better than the nauseating guilt over that final argument, the uncertainty at times that his brother was even alive.” (Which is not to say that Ford isn’t spiteful. Our man has plenty of spite. But him being spiteful is not the only thing going on here.) Which brings us to our next point.
Stop Stan from being kicked out? How?! That household does not appear to have been a safe place for either of the brothers. Should Ford have gotten himself kicked out too? Should he have known exactly what to say to talk his father down - the man who just violently threw his twin out of the house? Ford didn’t kick Stan out. He just wasn’t able to stop it from happening, and that’s not something any teen should be blamed for.
Behave himself when reuniting with Stan at the culmination of the worst period of his life thus far? There’s stress. And then there’s being dangerously sleep-deprived and at the mercy of a horrifying demon that betrayed you, leaving you alone in a shack in the woods with no one to call for help except your estranged brother, who’s complaining about a mullet, of all things. Yeah, I’m not going to say Ford’s behavior was anything other than atrocious here. But really. How well would you handle that?
Thanked his brother? Stan could have destroyed the universe; it makes sense that Ford’s upset! He’s also had literally decades to stew in the terror and fury he experienced in those last moments before falling through the portal (something which almost certainly would not have happened if it weren’t for Stan). Again, Ford’s not acting like the world’s best brother here, but it’s understandable.
Ford’s not perfect. He can be arrogant, spiteful, and bitter. He makes serious mistakes (often due to his own hubris) that put himself, his loved ones, and sometimes the entire universe in grave peril. Ford is, in fact, deeply flawed. That’s part of what makes him a fun character! It’s also what makes him a well-written and believable character. Yes, Ford acts like a jerk. He does so quite often.
Ford also spends nearly the entire narrative bouncing from one deeply toxic situation to another, desperately trying to survive and make life better for himself and his family and watching as his brother makes mistake after mistake - sometimes making choices with severe, negative consequences on Ford’s own life.
Ford is doing the best he can. He’d not a bad person. He tries to be good. He tries to do the right thing.
He just fails sometimes.
Don’t we all?
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angelbarelywrites · 9 hours ago
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♡ slashers scenarios | may i have this dance?
♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), House of Wax, The Boy, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡cw; none really!!
♡notes; this popped into my brain the other day and i thought we were due for some fluff. i’m writing part two congruently so that’ll be posted soon too!!
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Micheal Myers
> Micheal Myers does not dance
> He doesn’t know how, and he doesn’t want to learn
> But like with a lot of things, you get him to bend his rules
> He has a habit of looming in doorways to watch you
> At first it’s disconcerting, but you learn it’s just how he is
> So you pay him no mind as he’s watching you dance around the kitchen to some song that’s too popular for him to know
> Sweet and silly and carefree…
> He clicks the speaker off with a quiet huff
> “Hey, I was listening to that-“ You pout
> He rolls his eyes and puts on something a bit more to his taste
> And before you can playfully complain any more, he wraps his arms around you from behind and sways softly
> It takes a second for you to process it- he’s not normally so…gentle
> But in his own weird little way, he’s dancing with you
> He tenses a bit when you turn around- he’s embarrassed but would never admit it- but when you kiss his cheek he relaxes and gives a quiet hum
>And he keeps swaying as you lay your head on his chest
>Just for you, as long as you don’t tell anyone…Micheal Myers does dance. Just a little.
Thomas Hewitt
> Thomas doesn’t think about dancing
> He’s seen it on TV, read about it in books…but the Hewitts aren’t really the dancing types
> Nearest thing to dancing that he can think of ever doing is being held by his mama, when she’d sing and rock him when he was hurt or upset
> And it’s been a long time since anyone could hold him like that
> But one day you’re upset- he doesn’t know why but you burst into tears the moment he walked in, and it has him in a tizzy
> He quickly scoops you up, checking for any injuries but…nothing. You’re just crying and he hates seeing you like that
> So he does what used to make him feel better
> He can’t sing- or at least won’t, his words are always few and far between- but he hums, low and rumbling in his chest
> As he holds you and slowly sways you start to calm down
> You sniffle and all of the sudden giggle
> “Thomas Hewitt; are you dancin’ with me right now?”
> He looks confused but slowly nods as he thinks about it
> “Well thank you. I needed this.”
> He nuzzles you and continues until you’re calm- and far after that if you’ll let him
Bubba Sawyer
> As we know, Bubba is a very sheltered fellow, but he does like dancing!
> He’s not particularly coordinated but he doesn’t need much coaxing to twirl you around and around
> He’ll dance without music, humming a nonsense tune to you, maybe even whistling
> And if you sing to him he can’t help grinning and giggling
> It’s not uncommon for him to sway and spin with you in the living room if the radio got left on
> And he gets shy when you’re caught by one of his brothers
> “Bubba you stop wasting time, you little—“
> You cock your hip and give Drayton a cold look
> “Oh, I’m a waste of time now, cook?”
> Like always a smart remark goes a long way with Drayton, the twins immediately “oooh”ing and teasing him as he flusters
> Soon enough he’s chasing them out cursing and wielding a pair of tongs
> Leaving you and Bubba forgotten and free to sneak off and continue your fun in peace
Vincent Sinclair
> You’d have to ask
> Probably more than once, honestly
> Vincent is an artistic man, that’s not a doubt in the slightest- but he’s not even a little interested in anything that involves performance
> But you have a way of getting your way with him
> “Vince baby?”
> “…”
> “Pretty please?”
> “…”
> “If we take pictures then you can paint us.”
> He perks up a bit and you know you’ve got him
> “Cmon silly!” You drag him into the house of Wax, camcorder in hand
> Having gotten that far, you finally realize you don’t particularly know how to dance either, not really
> But you don’t tell him that, instead turning on the music and pulling him against you
> You’re clumsy and awkward and adorable as you spin around with him, not even a bit embarrassed
> He isn’t sure the reference stills are usable, but he’s more than happy the sweet moment on camera
Brahms Heelshire
> Brahms treats you like royalty- whatever you want is yours
> So if you say you’d like to go dancing, he is more than happy to arrange something
> Though of course, he doesn’t like leaving home… no matter. There’s plenty of room in the manor
> He makes a date out of it- he’s prone to making dates out of lots of silly things
> Silly or not, it’s sweet, and as always you fawn over him and praise him for the thoughtfulness
> He even bought you a cute outfit for the occasion - he loves dolling you up (pun slightly intended)
> After setting the music he bows and offers his hand- being a rich brat he knows a bit of ballroom dancing
> He’s more than happy to teach you, humming “1-2-3” with your steps
> But he’s laughing and giggling and just can’t stop gushing over how cute you are
> So if you fall into slow dancing like it’s the prom, he doesn’t mind
> Any dance with you is more than he can ask for
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magicpiano · 1 year ago
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Turns out I have more to say about this AU
Conan and Phoenix 🤝 running over a burning bridge club
Unstoppable force vs. immovable object (Kaito's luck and plot armor protecting him from an identity reveal vs. the WAA's magical truth powers that unravel everyone's secrets)
Yes, Kaito could have broken out of prison at any time, but that would make him look guilty and he doesn't want crimes he didn't even commit attached to his real identity.
Maya mentions her family has a lot of old gems used for ceremonies and stuff and how she thinks it would be cool if KID stole them. Phoenix cannot understand why she wants to be robbed. Kaito is like, "Oh? Your magical family with powers over death? Tell me more." But, you know, subtly.
This AU forces Conan to met Kaito and imo there is a zero percent chance that Conan doesn't immediately figure out that Kaito is KID. There is just no way. Like Hakuba, he just knew it to be true, and also like Hakuba, he can't prove it. (This also makes Conan more determined to find the real killer because he knows KID wouldn't have done this.)
Kaito is obviously upset at being accused of murder, but also, and he would never admit this out loud, if he killed someone he would not leave that much evidence behind. He is offended at the idea that he is a sloppy criminal.
And some stuff pulled from the reblogs:
#hakuba is there too on the witness stand#insisting that kaito IS kid but he is NOT the murderer via @inkstaindusk
This is so funny to me because in Ace Attorney cases, there is always so much evidence against the defendant that you have to disprove. So like, I imagine the prosecutor saying something like, "You believe Kuroba is innocent of a crime there is a significant amount of evidence he committed, yet you also believe he is guilty of a crime there is absolutely no evidence he committed?"
And Hakuba doesn't have a good response to that so he is just like, "... Yes basically."
Inspired by things that @scaehime and @qds-place said:
Apollo really can't see through Kaito's poker face and it freaks him out. Kaito doesn't so much as twitch when he lies. Apollo has gotten so used to his ability that it not working is really disquieting.
Athena can still hear the discord in Kaito's voice though! This is good because otherwise he would remind her too much of the Phantom.
DCMK/Ace Attorney crossover has so much comedic potential.
After Kaito graduates high school, he becomes a professional magician and travels the world preforming. (Funnily enough, KID has also started doing more international heists. Weird coincidence, right?)
Anyway, Kaito goes to Japanifornia for a few shows.
Trucy is of course a huge fan of both KID and Kaito Kuroba and wants to go to his shows which is how they get involved in the case.
Someone dies at KID's heist and poor Kaito (who definitely only came to watch because he is such a huge KID fan! Honest!) is accused of the murder. Trucy insists they defend her idol.
The WAA has people with magic truth finding powers, but they never think to ask Kaito if he is KID, only if he committed the murder, and of course he didn't, so they agree to defend him.
(I am not sure if it is funnier if they never figure out Kaito is KID or they realize it but recognize it has nothing to do with the case and they can't prove it, so whatever. But if they figure it out Trucy says something like, "magicians keep each other's secrets!" then demands Kaito does a show with her.)
Kaito at least partly goes with Phoenix as a defense attorney because he is famous for getting Mask☆DeMasque off the hook.
Also Ron DeLite is a huge KID fan. So is Maya.
Conan is there (because of reasons? Still investing the Black Organization? Idk) and, of course, he came to the KID heist too and, of course, got involved in the murder.
Conan is so upset that the legal system in this country went ahead with a trial before he was even allowed to investigate. He sneaks in of course which is how Phoenix meets him during the investigation phase.
Upon asking something as simple as Conan's name Phoenix is faced with a full five Psyche-Locks. Logically, he is sure this kid must have something to do with the crime, right? Too suspicious.
Poor Detective Gumshoe keeps messing up and Conan is ready to lose it. He can't believe Gumshoe is allowed to call himself a detective and he isn't even allowed onto the crime scene.
I struggled to decide which prosecutor would be best for this case, but I think Klavier is the funniest possible option. He knows a lot about show business and can complain about KID stealing his spot light lately.
(After the trial, Klavier tries to get Kaito to be part of one of his shows because we already know he likes magicians at his concerts. I think Kaito might even be down for it.)
Kaito 100% believes Maya when she says that she can summon spirits of the dead. Like, yeah, sure, he has seen weirder shit. He is looking for weirder shit.
If this is post Duel Destinies I can see them being very uncomfortable with Kaito's disguise abilities.
Kaito is of course found not guilty of the murder. Maybe he is even found not guilty of being KID too, like Ron DeLite. (Hakuba just loses it when he hears this)
They never did find out what was up with Conan's Psyche-Locks.
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shirogane-oushirou · 13 days ago
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no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.
i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.
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[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!
also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]
#goddd my family finds it sooooooo funny that i can't do basic tasks! it's soooo funny that i can't even think of a horror movie to watch#on halloween bc i genuinely can't remember a single one right now. it's soooo funny that i can't take cardboard boxes or#old furniture out of my room without help bc i've physically and mentally and emotionally burnt out for Months.#and me not being able to move shit out after two (2) days makes me a hoarder somehow. and ofc hoarding is a moral failing#and my mom has to give me a stern talking-to about hoarding things... that were. again. in my room for 2 days....#[tbc it isnt a moral failing no matter the reason. life is hard and things happen and it can be hard to get rid of things for Reasons.]#nevermind them making constant snide remarks about me using ugly 'mismatched' desk / storage furniture. bc it was free / cheap? no income??#AND!!!!! i have a couple of new diagnoses. which doesn't change much day to day but it does make my family making fun of me#even more dumbfounding. like. this explains a lot of really scary unexplained symptoms that constantly leave me#housebound for weeks but uhhh haha hehe hoho??? so silly so funny that i'm barely conscious for multiple weeks???#and you can see that i'm getting worse but that makes it funnier??? hmm!!!#also nevermind that i've told them the exact reason why i've been like this (read: them) but that ALSO makes it funnier somehow.#but i also can't say shit bc they're doing something ~nice~ for me (out of convenience + after almost a decade of 'don't get comfortable'#and 'don't decorate this room bc it isn't yours' and 'you need to be ready to move out by x date'#only for the date to arrive and them to pull the 'i never said that. and if i did say it i didn't mean it like that.#and if i did mean it like that i don't anymore.' card. + any big renovations are things they wanted anyway. hmmmm!!#and how i have to do all of the phys labor alone bc if i ask for help i get made fun of!!! and yelled at that i'm doing things Wrong#(hint: i'm following instructions to the letter but. my family knows better than those silly things!! ^^ ))#jfc i sure did rant. uh. yeah. things. are really weird and uncomfy and i feel thankful that i finally can have my own things on display#outside of closets and bins again after a decade?? but i'm also waiting for the other shoe to drop / them to tell me i owe them in#some way??? bc that's how it works. 'i'm doing a nice thing you didn't even ask me for so now you have to do whatever i tell you to.'#meanwhile i can't even maladaptive daydream my way through it bc my brain is soup right now. can't remember basic things abt#my interests bc i've been on negative battery / spoons for a couple of months straight and it's only getting worse.#OKAY TLDR i'm not in a state to do anything until everything irl gets settled. and i'm trying So Hard to get it all over with but there's#only so much i can do in a day before i completely shut down. i didn't even get into the insurance stuff i've been fighting too ughhhh.#so if i show up on here in short spurts -- hi! bye! hi!! i wuv and care u!!! hope youre well mwah mwah!!!!!!! i'll post what i can and then#disappear when i need to recharge. it is what it is. i need to try to sleep now... uh if this post disappears when i wake up.... yeah......#📌 [ my posts. ]#💭 [ my thoughts. ]#vent -
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endearng · 21 days ago
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Third time's the charm
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Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader Summary: During one of your movie nights with Spencer, you decide to, once again, take the lead. Or, you got cockblocked so often that you almost thought it wouldn't happen. WC: 3.1k Warnings: smut (nipple play and dry humping); reader thinks spencer might be asexual but he's just a shy puppy; they are desperate for each other; "ruined" movie night; virgin!Spencer my beloved. (I guess that's it. If I forgot something, please let me know!) A/N: Aaaand here it is! I didn't think I'd write smut so soon, hehe. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it - it's actually a sequel to Dearest friend, but can be read as a stand-alone. Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist
"It’s nice we finally have some time for each other," you hummed in agreement. "Thanks for coming over," Spencer said.
"You don't have to thank me," you said, sitting down on his couch after placing the drinks you chose from his fridge on the coffee table. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you confessed. It got him blushing.
Spencer started one of your movies. It was your choice: you usually took turns picking out a movie to watch together whenever you had the chance, since neither of you were keen of going out that often and you didn't have much time outside of work. It was a fun opportunity to know more of each other through your personal taste, since he often chose foreign films about humanities and you, well, you made him watch Easy A, which got him talking about Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter.
After the movies, you would talk to each other about it, maybe mentioning a personal experience that you remembered thanks to a particular scene or a character's arch. Maybe you would kiss.
Which was a problem. Well, not a problem, but, you see, you didn't have much time together other than going to each other's houses and out on a few dates, which were your favorite: Spencer often found the most beautiful, cozy places to take you, like coffee shops, museums, bookshops and libraries, followed by a nice dinner at a local restaurant. It was during one of those dates that something gave him the nerve to touch your hand. Holding hands quickly escalated to having his hands around you at all times possible, and it got to the point where you nearly had to peel off of him when he got too comfortable and you sadly had to leave to do something. These moments of physical touch were making you go insane, thinking about making a bolder move on him, but you thought that maybe he wasn't ready. Plus the fact that you seemed to be interrupted whenever things got too heated.
If you had a nickel for everytime you and Spencer had to stop right before you got intimate (in any way, really), you'd have two nickels, which isn't much, but it's weird that it happened twice. It was like the universe (more like Hotch and the gore that surrounded the team) were set on a mission for you to never have sex again. Besides that, more extreme thoughts plagued your mind and told you that maybe he wasn’t attracted to you like that. It often made you go home feeling a little bit insecure.
You knew that it was better to assume, but you were only human. After some pep talk with yourself on the way to his place, you convinced yourself that you would have to have this conversation with him, sooner or later. You thought so hard about this that you even came up with the possibility that he was asexual — you were fine with it if he was, obviously, because being with him made you feel whole. Still, you wanted, you needed to get this off your chest before you exploded with assumptions and unrequited feelings. Unrequited desire.
You decided to try to be subtle. Scratching the back of his head with your nails lovingly, you both watched the movie. "What are you doing?" He asked, looking at you. You could see the goosebumps on his arm, that must have been the trigger for the question coming out of his lips. You gave him a soft smile.
"It's called affection, pretty boy," you kissed the tip of his nose. "And I don't intend on stopping anytime soon."
You kissed his left cheek when he turned to look at the TV screen.
Then, you turned his head gently to kiss the right one. He glanced between your eyes and your lips, so of fucking course you were about to kiss him, but you decided to tease him a little and pecked the tip of his nose and gently kissed his forehead instead. He breathed out a laugh. Ticklish. It made you wonder where else he would be sensitive.
Stop, you slut of a brain.
When you were about to kiss his lips, you withdrew your face from his, smooching his cheek instead. He sighed, oblivious to your real intentions, impatient and utterly, stupidly in love with you.
Oops. There goes your heart. Out the window. Taking your judgment with it.
"Spence?"
"Yes?"
"Can I do something?"
"Yes," he answered. "You know can do anything, baby."
"This is a very dangerous thing to say to a girl who has the feelings I have for you," you said, grinning. His expression morphed into one that almost looked like sheer panick.
You slowly moved to straddle his lap, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wanted to, his legs trapped between yours. You sat yourself on the top of his thighs. He watched every movement feeling like the world stopped and there were the both of you, moving in slow motion, movie long forgotten behind you. His breath hitched when he came to his senses and noticed the position you were in, now that you've done what you had. "Is this okay? It's more comfortable than kissing you like… well, that," you laughed softly.
"Yes. I-It's perfect," he breathed out, hands finding your waist.
You lips finally met his in a kiss that had both of you sighing. You found out that Spencer was a really good kisser — and you were proud to be the one with whom he practiced kissing to perfection —, your lips easily falling into a passionate rhythm. Gasping for air, you pecked him on those perfect lips that were red and puffy from all the assaulting you were doing, but he quickly pulled you in for another, this time, sloppier than ever, encouraged by your own boldness. He was french kissing you. Fairly used to it, but not with the intensity of it, you groaned in welcomed surprise, hands finding the nape of his neck and getting a grip on them, not so gently as you normally did. You pulled his hair down, breaking the kiss, lips tingling and lungs screaming for air. He smirked, feeling smug at the state he left you in.
You rose slightly from his lap, still holding his head and looking straight into his eyes. By holding yourself slightly above him, the pendant of your necklace grazed his chin, like he had imagined many times after watching you fiddle with it. God, it was finally coming true, having you in his arms and intending to let you do whatever you wanted to him and him only, the way that it should be ever since the day you met. You nearly made him go insane, pulling you closer to his body than you ever were, acting like a desperate madman. You smiled down at him and kissed him again, more feverishly than before, trying to tell him through that kiss that you were his. Biting his lower lip and earning a fucking moan, you sat yourself down on him again. You felt his bulge against your clothed core and the light contact made you feel lightheaded.
You were so caught up on him that it almost made you forget you needed to talk to him first. Unfortunately, as you tried to catch your breath and to find the right words to speak, Spencer felt his insecurities creeping up on him. Despite knowing it would be best to talk to you, he felt like voicing it out loud would push you away from him — which he didn't want. He was very comfortable with the indecent small distance between your bodies.
He was fidgety. You knew you needed to address this because your boyfriend wasn't the best at voicing his needs — you remember and giggled internally at how you had been the one to knock on Spencer's door asking him to put an end to your suffering by telling him how you felt. Heh. Kudos to you.
"I wanted to talk about this with you," you murmured, now feeling his kisses peppering the skin of your neck. You knew how much he was hiding from you because he wouldn't stop moving and it was very distracting, but if you didn't speak, it would be the end of you. "I'd ask if you were okay with me and you like this, about taking further steps, shit." You moaned when he fucking bit you and kissed you right after.
He pulled away from you, hands flying up to the back of your head. Foreheads touching, eyes locked in yours. "I want it. I want you, I mean. Been wanting you for some time now—a very long time, yes." He strongly shut his eyes closed, most likely working up the courage to say something. "But I don't want to... disappoint you," he finished, sounding insecure.
Not on your watch.
"Me too, Spence. God, I want you so bad," you answered, unable to look away from him, who now looked down, paying close attention to the rising and falling of your chest. "Hey, look at me, please," you pleaded. His eyes met yours. Oh, those maddening eyes... "Believe me when I tell you, baby, I want you. And if you don't want to do anything, you don't have to. I won't push you, of course. I just wanted to have a conversation with you before, because setting boundaries is important and consent is hot—" he laughed quietly. Making jokes was your go-to way of making situations lighter and he was glad for it then. You smiled when you noticed the sound he made. "And I'm also positively certain that you wouldn't like to have our first time on your couch."
"My first time," he revealed. softly. Eyes not meeting yours.
Oh.
You didn’t falter. "It doesn't change much, baby. I still stand for what I just told you," you assured him, "I want you to enjoy yourself, Spence."
Looking back into your eyes, he declared, "And I want you."
"You can have me," you answered, "You already have."
"You'd need to guide me. You know, hands-on activity. Because I’ve never done it before…" he trailed off.
"Lucky for you, I'm great at teaching."
His grip finds your waist, lips anxiously waiting for yours — and when they touched to mold perfectly in another breathtaking kiss, he felt complete. Like nothing bad could ever happen in the world just because you were in it. His past, his insecurities, the awful things you both saw on the field, nothing mattered. Looking at you, touching you, was a nearly an out of body experience. The things you got him thinking by just kissing him. And he thought his insecurities would get the best of him. Jokes on them, you exist.
You look at him through hooded eyes. "I've never felt like this before. I feel... tingly," he confessed, lovely smile on his face, eyes blinking.
"You're feeling good, handsome," you answered, glancing at his dazed eyes.
A beat of silence. Swallowing second thoughts. "Can you make it better?"
"Is that a request or a challenge?" You asked, grinning.
"A request." He answered shyly, hiding his face on your neck, peppering kisses on your skin. You were going to explode.
"Oh, don't talk to me like that," you shivered, feeling absolutely lost, "I might spoil you and give you everything you want," you sighed.
"Let me have it, then," he answered, voice muffled by your skin.
"I'm all yours, Spencer."
He had the audacity of blushing as his fingers played with the hem of your shirt. You smiled at him. In this state, if he asked for you to run naked around town, you probably would. It was dangerous, to say the least. Softly, yet desperate, the words left his lips. "Can I take this off?" He sucked in a breath. "Please?"
"Yes, pretty boy, you can," you answered. "You can have anything. I thought I already said that."
"Yes—You did. You did," he breathed out between needy kisses across your skin, getting rid of your shirt in no time.
At first, he was mesmerized by the sight in front of him. He hadn't seen many naked (or semi-naked) women in front of him, but you were something out of this world. The bra you were wearing matched your skin tone and pushed your breasts together and there was the fucking necklace, almost mocking him by being constantly so close, too close to the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. The view was almost overwhelming by itself. You looked at him, but he couldn't possibly come up with the words that would describe you in that moment. Words had failed him, nothing else in his mind but you. The tool he used to communicate, to access the world and how it shaped reality, to comprehend the mind of another person, to get to know others... He had nothing left. Except from the pulsing of his boner against your clothed pussy, that is.
Just like that, IQ of 187 slashed to 60, Emily Prentiss said, once. Funnily enough, when you passed by wearing a sundress.
Unable to talk but, oh, so able to use his hands, they traveled up to your breasts with a featherlight touch, which didn't stop him from feeling your heartbeat. He let his hands trail over the soft and sheer fabric of the bra you were wearing. Finding your nipples, his touch got more intense. He licked his lips. His actions made you shudder and sent a spark of excitement to your sex. "Pretty," he said. "So, so pretty, my girl."
"Do you like it?" You asked, breathless from a little touching. Pathetic. "I got these thinking of you. Wanna look pretty for you, Spence."
"You are," he said, looking into your eyes, his own foggy, hands reaching to touch your neck. "You're pretty all the time, it's so unfair to me," he murmured. "I really like them on you, but… can I take ‘em off?"
"Yes. You can do anything, Spence."
Spencer wanted to burn the sight of you, in that slightly disheveled state, in the back of his mind so he could remember it forever — not that he would have a hard time trying to remember anything. Nevertheless, he did everything so slowly, almost as if trying to tattoo on the tip of his fingers the softness and temperature of your skin. He inhaled deeply, consumed by your floral-scented perfume and lifted his hands to unclasp your bra. His fingers curiously, but unhurriedly, lowered each of the straps. Like opening a gift that had been so carefully wrapped he didn't want to ruin.
But did he wanted to be ruined by you.
The sight of your bare chest was marvelous, to say the least, and he timidly grazed his fingertips against the exposed area, eliciting goosebumps and a soft whine. His mouth watered, thoughts simply reduced to the need of having you in his mouth. The striped pattern on the soft skin of your breasts around your nipples were faint, barely there, unless if you took a close look at it. It goes without saying that he was blatantly gazing at your bosom at this point.
Pupils dilated, he looked up at you, hungrily, drawing his face closer to you, curls tickling the skin of your collarbone. He inhaled your scent, mind blanking. Tortuously dragging his lips on your skin (and unintentionally smearing some of his saliva on you, he was drooling, after all) as a silent request, the necklace brushing his forehead slightly. The grind of your hips against his answered his plead to taste you.
"Oh—you're so, so good to me, princess," you moaned when he finally wrapped his lips against the nub, playing with the other.
You felt almost overwhelmed with the attention you were getting and the reaction you were having to said attention. Your underwear was sticking almost uncomfortably against your core and you felt yourself aching for some relief, aching for him. So, as Spencer worked his hot tongue on your tits, licking, softly biting, sucking, making a mess on and of you, you busied yourself by chasing the relief you both desperately wanted. The solace it provided you both with was exhilarating and made you feel dazed.
Steadily rocking yourself against him, you earned a few grunts. "You're making a mess of me, pretty boy," you murmured as he switched his attention to the other boob.
"Give it t'me—I want it, I deserve it," he breathed out, body aching with lust, cock pulsing against your covered clit. His words only fueled the fire inside you, the coil in your lower stomach threatening to snap at anytime now.
"Yeah, you do, my boy," you breathed out, pulling the hair on the nape of his neck, nearly tasting your orgasm, "gonna look so pretty when you come for me, won't you, baby?" Both hands gripping your hips, mouth never leaving your skin. You sure would be bruised by tomorrow, but this, this was definitely worth it.
"Yes—Yes, I will," He whined. He fucking whined.
"Tell, me—ah—where do you want to cum, baby?"
"Shit—" until then, you were sure that was a word you'd never hear him saying, let alone that freely. "Gonna—Shitshitshit," moaning out your name.
That's when it hit you that he had cummed his pants. It was such a fat load that it had seeped through both his underwear and his slacks — which prompted you to reach your own high with a moan of his name directly into his ear.
Both of you feeling dizzy, you slump against him, feeling his arms wrapping your frame as you rested your head on his shoulder. You both took deep breaths, the only sound in the room. Well, besides the movie you both totally ignored.
"I can't get up right now... My legs feel wobbly," you chuckled. "Are you okay, Spence?" You asked, looking at him when you didn't get an answer.
"Yeah, 'm fine," he answered, "I mean, I'll be fine as soon as I recover from you."
You laughed sincerely, "From me? What have I done to you?"
"You gave me what I wanted, you spoiled me, you broke me," he said, a silly smile adorning his pretty face. You pushed him playfully. "I can't even explain what I'm feeling right now. My brain has stopped working ever since you straddled me. Are you trying to kill me?"
"No, babe."
"Wrong answer. You're so gonna keep doing that to me, so you'll definitely be trying to killing me from now on." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
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1mlei · 1 month ago
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I absolutely love the idea that Danny kills the Joker (because creepy clowns eww) and Jason happens to walk in right as he's panicking all over the place. Danny is desperately trying to explain it was an accident, while Jason's over here simultaneously feeling the best he's ever felt since his revival and falling head over heels in love at the same time.
Very cute, very fun, wholesome murder, 10/10 will read every time.
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Danny: *shoving Joker's body behind dumpster in a panic*
Jason: "Is that a dead body?"
Danny, recognizing Red Hood as someone famous in the Realms for avenging murder victims: "Oh hi Mr. Hood, ma'am, sir.. See this isn't what it looks like, it was a total accident I swear on half my life!"
Jason: "Half your wha-"
Danny, still in shock: It's just he was being all creepy, and I've had bad experiences with clowns before, I and then this one had a gun so I pushed him a bit, didn't mean to kill the dude, honestly!"
Jason: *walks over to check body*
Danny: "Soo, total accident, and I don't feel like being arrested, so I'm gonna go.."
Jason, realizing that is indeed the Joker lying dead behind a dumpster: "Hang on, at least give me-"
Jason turning around and seeing his saviour has vanished: "Damn, didn't even get his number."
...
Jason: *giddily takes selfie with corpse*
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Jason: *patrolling in relative peace when he sees some random guy and the flipping Joker in an alley, said Joker has a gun pulled on the poor guy*
Jason: *about to swing in to save the day and take out the Joker*
Danny, faced with a clown pointing a gun at his head while ranting about all the creepy things he's gonna do: "Yea no that's not gonna fly"
Danny: *Goes full on eldritch abomination and eats the Joker's soul, leaving his body as a lifeless husk*
Jason, standing at the mouth of the alley in disbelief:
Danny, turning back into his human form: "Oh eww, so not worth it, that guy tasted terrible."
Jason: *frantically straightens his jacket, tries to fix his hair and realizes his helmet's in the way, then strikes a pose and tries to look natural*
Danny: *turns around and realizes he's not alone*("omg is that Red Hood?")
Jason, using all his rizz: "Hey there handsome, don't suppose you'd let me treat you to some dessert after a meal like that? There's a place down the street ;)"
Danny: "..What?"
----------
Alternatively, Danny and Jason were already dating but got into an argument.
Danny, walking down a street brooding thinking: "Man, I've got to figure out how to make it up to Jason, chocolates, flowers, maybe get him a book, hmmm.."
Joker: *creepy giggling as he yanks a random kid that looks like he could possibly be a Wayne into alley™*
Danny, eyes lighting up: "Ohh yes you'll be perfect, thanks dude :]"
Joker: "Wh-"
..20 minutes later..
Danny, walking into his and Jason's apartment: "Babe! I'm sorry about earlier, but I have something to make it up to you!"
Jason, peeking around the corner with a frown: "Well whatever it is it's not just gonna fix- is that the fucking Joker?"
Danny: "Yep! Don't worry he only looks dead cause I'm holding his soul hostage right now, I thought you should get to do the honours <3"
Jason:
Danny:
Jason:
Danny: "...I have chocolates and that book you wanted to read as well..?"
Jason: "Marry me"
----------
Mmmhhh yes I love this trope so much!!
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vorfreudevortex · 1 month ago
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apologies
✧.* gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso, sukuna, yuji, megumi, noritoshi, ino, inumaki, yuta
notes: a somewhat happier resolution and part two of arguments! thank you for reading <3
✧.* check out the fun facts after the attachments for background info about their fights and a look inside my brain hehe!
my masterlist
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© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.
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satoru cried in his office when he realized that he blamed you for something that wasn't your fault.
suguru's coworker sat on his lap as part of a weird inside joke everyone else at the school has between the two. he has no idea why he was so defensive to you and he truly wasn't cheating. he was so angry that you would believe he cheated that he started calling you out for the first thing he could think of, wearing revealing tops in public. satoru had to call you 8 times before you picked up and let him explain it to you. he's forcing her to transfer to kyoto so she never has the chance to hurt your relationship again (remember that suguru never left and became a teacher alongside satoru in my aus). the pictures sent to the reader leave out how suguru uncomfortably asked her to get off of him shortly after, since they were around other sorcerers and teachers (as politely as he could).
kento came home with so many flowers for you and he still feels awful.
toji's dumbass freaked tf out when you took home your clothes from his place. he was out drinking and gambling and didn't want to tell you. your relationship is rocky for a while but he hasn't gambled since.
choso is still learning communication skills and cried when he realized that he was being mean to you over nothing.
sukuna is a terrible texter and does NOT communicate his feelings well. this is him being vulnerable af with you because he really does love you and has no idea why he was grabbing another girl's ass at the bar. he tried to chase you down after you threw a drink on him, slapped and yelled at him, and ran out.
yuji completely panicked when a curse attacked him out of nowhere when he was out with you. you can't see them and you were so confused and scared that you couldn't move. he just cares about you so much and couldn't stand the fact that you could've died. he made megumi listen to him cry about how mean he was to you for like 3 straight hours.
megumi has no idea how to deal with his emotions and has never been in a relationship before so he literally thought you guys were broken up LMAO. he's trying really hard for you.
in my au toge can speak, just not direct commands, so he still rarely talks unless necessary. i thought it would be nice to have the reader understand that all of his communication skills are terrible and help him work on them.
noritoshi has a terrible outlook on love and relationships from his upbringing so it took him a minute to understand how awful his words were. he truly does love you and wants to marry you. he lowkey constantly thinks about cutting off the kamo clan so they can't control his life anymore.
ino literally cried to nanami after your argument. he's so used to putting jujutsu responsibilities before his own life and feelings, and struggles with having to take care of something that can't be fixed with his power or strength. nanami also called you and apologized for meddling in your relationship, he realized it was inappropriate but he just really cares about you and ino and wants the best for both of you.
yuta literally didn't even realize how insane and controlling he was being until you called him out. after he took you home, he latched onto you with his head crammed in your lap because he was so upset thinking that you might leave him. he swears to himself that he will kill himself before he treats you like that again, and he never does it again.
i don't like when big argument smaus end with "no biggie i forgive you! <3" so i tried to make sure that the reader either made sure they know they fucked up big time, apologized and talked to them face-to-face, they'd never do it again, or you wouldn't forgive them so easily, etc.
sorry this was so long! but i love knowing the background info and author's thoughts for smaus since they can be kind of limiting in content! i think i'll add background info and fun facts after all my future smaus for those who are interested. as always thank you so much for reading ♡
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00kittenz · 1 month ago
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── jay’s body. ( pjs ) 🔪
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๑ A string of gruesome murders have been plaguing your small town with fear, there hasn’t been many leads on who this unnamed killer could be but never in a million years would you suspect that it was someone you were so close to…
pair/genre: popular jock!jay ㅊ nerdy!f!reader, dead dove do not eat, college au, jennifer’s body au | warnings: horror, pwp, angst, smut, humor/dark jokes, set in the late 2000’s, jay is your childhood best friend, yandere/incubus!jay, mentions of depression/anxiety, childhood trauma, graphic descriptions of death and violence, gore, cheating, manipulation tactics, dub-con, virginity loss, d/s dynamics, piv, fingering, oral (m + f. rec), rough s.x, biting, slight knife play, unprotected s.x, breeding kink | words: 18.3k+ (holy shit i’m insane..)
**please heed ALL warnings before reading, i am not responsible for the content you consume !!
[ song inspo: mascara, do you believe, & cherry waves by deftones ]
this is a really long one compared to all of my other fics ! i’m happy with the outcome of this so i hope you all like it !! i poured way too much time and effort into this writing so reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <33 big thank you to the loml @p4ranormaluv for beta-ing my fic, ilysm muahh
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“you should come.” jay’s figure hovered over your desk, his face so unbearably close to yours that one wrong move could lead to both of your lips accidentally colliding. “please y/n? it’ll be fun, i promise !” his former pout returns to guilt trip you even further.
you stood your ground and shook your head, leaning back into the chair for more breathing room. this wasn’t something out of the ordinary for him, jay constantly invaded your personal space, never believing in boundaries when it came to you— and he’d get even more obnoxious by persistently asking to hang outside of classes.
“no jay, i already told you before that i have homework to do..” you remind him yet again for the umpteenth thousand time, as if he didn’t already know that, not bothering to put much thought into considering his dumb little offer.
for the past hour or so he’s been bugging you about going to some dive bar downtown with him. it seems a lot of people were attending since a locally known indie girl band, ‘sweet venom’, is going to be performing there tonight. jay would always rave about their music once he discovered them on myspace, growing quite the infatuation with the lead singer in particular. you really weren’t all that interested in going, you weren’t even a fan, plus you had way more important things to worry about. and besides, concerts weren’t your thing anyway, you’ve always hated large crowds— gives you an inducing amount of anxiety.
“ugh, why’re you so lamee, it’s like you’re allergic to fun..” he whines, dragging out his words which only made him sound even more immature. he’d never miss a beat to poke fun at you for being such a goody two shoes. “we’re not getting any younger y/n, keep going at this rate and you’re bound to end up an old, shriveled up cat lady who’s gonna die a miserable virgin !”
his snarky comments about your dry sex life didn’t phase you as much as they used to, but after a while you do get sick of hearing them all the time. to be frank, you aren’t even sure why you and jay were still such close friends, maybe it’s because of the deep rooted history you two share, dating all the way back to when you were in kindergarten; or simply could be the fact that no matter what, jay refused to never leave your side— ever.
you’ve had one too many disagreements and blown out of proportion arguments with him over the years, yet he’s never held any of those things against you, it’s practically a clean slate the next day. you’ll never understand why he’s so adamant on keeping this friendship alive when you’re just so vastly different from each other. he’s athletic, outgoing, extremely popular amongst his peers— and especially with women, of course.
jay will never admit it out loud, but he’s always enjoyed being the center of attention, not to mention he was blessed with a well above average face that he used to his advantage quite a bit. he’d often came off as pretty arrogant and crude to most people, he honestly had no filter when it came to voicing his own opinions; but that was the allure of him, made his charm even more magnetic to the dozens of girls who’d fawn over him on a daily basis. he acted as though all eyes weren’t on him, yet he secretly relished it. if he wasn’t stroking his own ego, best believe there’d be someone who would.
you glare at him, wishing he’d just shut up already and go bother someone else for a change, but you know that’ll never happen in this lifetime. “i’m actually in a very loving and committed relationship.. so i rebuke that statement, thank you very much !” you quickly fire back, gathering your textbooks and other supplies, shoving them into the compartments of your black messenger bag.
“soo, i’m guessing mark’s dick isn’t really all that satisfying enough for you ? ‘cause you still act hella cranky all the time… must not be that good,” jay couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, deciding to further agitate you. “oh, who am i kidding.. you probably haven’t even let that bastard kiss you yet.”
if you weren’t so mentally drained from the 6 hours you’ve just endured of back to back classes, you’d be beating his ass to a pulp right here and now. “we’re taking things slow !” you defend yourself once more, lifting from the chair as you’re about to head out the door, to which jay follows behind to continue his rampant taunting spree.
“it’s been 6 months y/n, how much more ‘slow’ can you take it ?” a group of girls wave at him as you walked through the corridor, but he ignores it and keeps walking like the pretentious asshole he is. “bet the dude gets blue balls everytime he sees you.”
you stopped dead in your tracks for a second, turning around to face him only to be met with a smug grin settled on his lips. the fact he gets such a kick out of constantly teasing you made it all the more aggravating, but eventually you caved in, as per usual.
“ugh, fine.. what time is it ?” you inquire, watching how he instantly lit up at your question. you knew he would’ve been moping and complaining for the rest of the day if you didn’t go with him. anything to get him to finally shut up..
“it starts at 9 but i’ll pick you up at 8:30 !” jay caged his arm around your waist, pulling you into a half hug. “oh, and make sure to wear something good.” he quickly adds.
“um.. i always wear good clothes ??” a scoff leaves your lips, slightly offended by his critique of your clothing choices.
“really ?” he spoke sarcastically, eyeing the oversized crewneck sweatshirt you wore with cats printed all over, “this isn’t middle school anymore, it wouldn’t kill you to show a little bit of cleavage once in a while.”
you flat out ignore his comments. not even wanting to entertain his bullshit anymore, if anything it would only lead to a petty argument that’ll sour your mood for the whole day. you’ve learned the hard way that sometimes— well most of the time, letting jay say whatever he wants was the best option, which is why he always gets away with it. he’s always been the more domineering one of the friendship, whilst you just sat back and let his menacing behavior go unchecked. you hated that you were such a pushover when it came to him but you’d rather just let it go than have a full blown argument that could potentially lead to him having an irrational outburst.
“i gotta go find mark, i’ll see ya later.” your mind shifts back to thinking about your boyfriend who was most likely waiting for you out in the courtyard.
“ew, whatever bye.” a look of faux disgust bestowed on jay’s features, there was no inherent issue he had with mark— just didn’t really like the guy. he felt as though he was slowly being replaced by him, which is why he latched onto you even more than ever.
once you said your final goodbyes and parted ways, you head down a long flight of stairs to go search for your boyfriend. eventually catching him off in the distance as he’s sat on a bench outside, immediately going up to hug him.
“hey babe,” mark happily greets as you embraced him, embedding a kiss to your cheek, “missed you.”
“hey, sorry i showed up kinda late.. got a little sidetracked on my way to you,” you make up a quick lie as you don’t wanna fully admit that jay was the reason for your semi-tardiness.
“got any plans tonight pretty lady ?” he asks with his arm looped around your shoulder as you sat beside him, he was hoping to spend more time with you since you’ve been so cooped up in the library studying for upcoming exams.
“well… yeah, kinda. i’m going to this concert thingy with jay tonight.” there you go, not even a minute in of seeing your boyfriend you’re already bringing him up. it’s always jay, jay, jay— this was really beginning to irritate him.
“oh..” he sighs, visibly tensing up every time he hears that dreaded name slip from your mouth. he knew this was how it usually went down, whenever he asks to spend time with you somehow jay would always beat him to it. mark truly felt like your so called ‘best friend’ was the main perpetrator of sabotaging this relationship.
“we can still hang out for a bit before that !” you suggest, attempting to try and lighten the atmosphere, but mark still wasn’t too thrilled to hear that you were going to be with jay for the whole night instead of him.
you know that mark never really liked jay, and jay also never really liked mark either. it was an odd, unspoken tension between the two but you couldn’t quite seem to put your finger on how or why it all started. mark was more adjacent to your personality, you’re both bookworms, lovers of all things pertaining to math and science, and you lived in the same honor’s apartment complex, which only housed the smartest students of the whole university. jay however… he was a spitting image of everything you strived not to be. rebellious, put very minimal if at all any effort into his studies, was borderline narcissistic, and easily irritable around others. it was like a ticking time bomb with him, you never knew exactly when he’d go off.
“yeah only for like two hours..” mark sulked in discontent, sinking lower into the seat. “you always do whatever jay tells you to do, it’s like you don’t have a mind of your own sometimes.. feels like you enjoy being with jay more than me..”
“that’s not true !” you fire back, “he’s my best friend.. that’s it. you know you mean the world to me,” you anxiously express, fidgeting with the silver, heart-shaped friendship necklace that you and jay both had since elementary school. “my roommate should be gone, i have the whole place to myself, come !” quickly, you grab his hand to lead the way back to your place.
“agh.. okay, better be lucky that you’re cute..” mark jokingly adds, letting you pull him away to the next destination.
๑ ๑ ๑
“so.. which one is he stalking online again ?” mark asks out of curiosity, comfortably sat on top of your bed, referring to jay’s new obsession with this girl band.
“the lead singer of this band, he said she’s like ‘100% his type’ or something, i dunno.” you said nonchalantly, skimming through your wardrobe in hopes of finding an outfit that jay would approve of, you couldn’t dress too revealing as it would only attract unwanted attention from random creeps, but you also didn’t want to present as too “modest” as you’ll only get teased even more than you already were by your best friend.
“huh.. interesting..” he slightly nods, reaching over to play with one of your stuffed bears that you’ve had since childhood. “i still don’t get why he couldn’t just go with someone else or by himself. he doesn’t need you there..”
you don’t answer, instead you were too preoccupied with trying on various tops, unsatisfied with most until you find a dark purple top that was a bit more form fitting. it showed your midriff just a little bit but it wasn’t too much that it would deem as “slutty”, at least in your humble book of opinions. checking yourself out in the vanity mirror to see how you look, you paired the top with some light wash flared jeans that you bought recently while out at the mall with jay.
you weren’t too keen on buying them at first but he’d convinced you to get them anyway. standing in front of your reflection, you barely recognized yourself. you don’t normally wear these types of styles but according to jay, you have to wear ‘good clothes’ so you kind of felt obligated to. finishing off the look, you took off your glasses, replacing them with contacts that you rarely wore, you’ve always hated that you struggled to put them in but it wasn’t so bad this time around.
“um, do you really have to wear such low rise jeans..? i can see your womb for pete’s sake !” mark sounded reminiscent of an overbearing dad the way he voiced his concerns, it was safe to say that he was definitely not a fan of this new look you were going for.
you playfully brushed him off, “quit being so dramatic, you’re just not used to seeing me like this is all !” you giggle at his overprotective nature, suddenly hearing a loud knock at your door from downstairs, “oh- that must be jay !”
you hummed a soft tune as you make your way down the stairs, swinging the door open to your best friend who’s grinning ear to ear, throwing your arms around his shoulders to embrace him in a hug.
“i see you actually took my advice,” jay says proudly, staring down your whole body as he examines your outfit, “we good to go ?” he asks, looking effortlessly cool in a pair of ripped black jeans and a white graphic tee that he bought from spencer’s.
“yup, i think so !” you nod in content, quickly grabbing your high-top converse that laid on the floor, they were a little beat up and had doodles all over them all because jay got bored one day and decided to scribble on the shoes without your knowledge. it added more character to them you suppose…
“i’d really appreciate if you stopped kidnapping my girlfriend all the time.” mark grumbles in annoyance, heading downstairs to kiss you goodbye. he possessively grabs ahold of your waist to show jay that he wasn’t the only man in your life that you adored— he hated that this has now become an unfriendly competition of who could gain your attention more.
jay scoffs, paying him little to no mind. “it isn’t kidnapping if she’s willingly going on her own accord, right ?” he said in his usual cocky tone, mark was getting more agitated by the second, if this were an animation, steam would’ve definitely been blowing out of his ears right now.
“listen dipshit i’ve had—”
“ok knock it off you two, enough !” you cut your boyfriend off before he could go any further, “you guys really need to stop, seriously..”
jay’s demeanor softens the minute he hears your voice, as if you’ve snapped him out of a trance, “he’s just jelly ‘cause he’s not invited, let’s go.” he links arms with yours whilst heading out the door, faintly hearing the jingle of his car keys clashing together as he swung them around with his free hand.
a part of you feels like you’ve created this whole mess between them, you’ve noticed this mini rivalry ever since you began dating mark. jay has never been one to give newcomers the warmest of welcomes, he’s constantly had this protective and territorial nature towards you, was just how he is. though sometimes, he’d take things a step too far. whenever he feels like you’re slowly drifting apart from him, he does everything in his power to drive a wedge between you and the other existing person. you and jay have always been a tight knit duo— a packaged deal if you will; and he isn’t too fond of other’s being added into the mix, he’d try convincing you that all you needed was each other— no one else ever mattered.
that was until you met your boyfriend mark of course, jay rarely ever conversed with him nor was he ever all that kind to him, but you managed to still work things out regardless of your best friend’s disapproval. in more blunt terms, you don’t think jay would’ve approved of anyone you date, he was harder to please than your own father and that in itself spoke volumes… on the contrary, you wouldn’t have much of an issue if jay were to magically show up with a girlfriend one day, but within these past two decades of knowing him you’ve never seen him date a single soul, he could literally have any girl he wanted, hell, they were practically lining up to even be near him. yet he didn’t bother giving one of them the time of day, he preferred his own solitude; except when he’s around you, that is.
๑ ๑ ๑
you had no idea what to anticipate when arriving to this place, but soon as you and jay walked into the establishment, you were invited with a completely different atmosphere than you expected. the way jay kept talking about this place you’d assume it’d be more of a nightclub ambiance but it was more or less like your average, run-of-the-mill bar where everyone went to watch the sports game on the weekend. sure there were a lot of people here but it just wasn’t the overall kind of vibe you mesh with. from it’s dingy, beer stained walls, to the generic pop music that blared through the speakers, there was a pool table in the corner occupied by a bunch of frat boys you recognized from school. your eyes landed on your past crush heeseung, who you never confessed to but still silently admired from afar to this day. you thought he was way out of your league, plus he was already dating someone else which made you harbor those secrets even deeper.
you sat at an empty booth, flipping open your phone to text mark who’s been asking nonstop if everything’s okay, though you’ve told him multiple times not to worry. there were a few girls who tried talking to jay but he seemed quite unamused by them, his mission was to talk to this band that he was fangirling over, you’ve never seen him this excited over anything.
“come with me,” jay suddenly pulls you out of your seat, making you go towards the front of the stage with him. he was smiling like an idiot, walking up to them confidently as he always did. there were a total of 5 women, all dressed in various types of leather and spikes, black filled their waterlines to look more edgy, their teased hair stayed in place with the shit ton of hairspray they used— pretty much your stereotypical rock band aesthetic. whether it was intentional or not, you didn’t know, but they definitely didn’t seem like the approachable type.
jay makes the first move, introducing himself along with your presence. “hi, i’m jay and this is my best friend y/n, i’m a huge fan of you guys ! i’m surprised you came out all the way here, aren’t you from the city ?” he sounded like such a groupie, you never took him as someone to kiss up to others, but there’s a first time for everything you suppose.
a woman with fluorescent pink hair spoke, you assumed it was the lead singer of the band since she held a microphone in her hand, “nice to meet you, i’m scarlett, but you can call me scar. yeah.. we’re a bit far out but we like to connect with fans all over, gotta start somewhere y’know?” jay nods, looking at her as if she held the key to a world he’s never seen before.
“can i buy you a drink ? the options are pretty slim but there’s these red and blue drinks that i think are kinda good. gotta drink ‘em fast though or else they turn this weird brownish color…” jay asks, hoping to give off the impression he’s older than he actually is.
“sure, thanks.” she replied, winking at him as she prepares to set up for the performance.
“great, i’ll be back right !” he turns around in a flash, tagging you along with him for the journey.
“uh, jay we aren’t over 21 yet..” you remind him, confused as how he was going to even pull this off, but he shuts down your doubtful attitude.
“i think you underestimate just how easily i can get anyone to do anything for me y/n.” he makes his way over to the bar with a confident stride, not even sweating the fact he may or may not be denied.
as jay was busy getting the drinks you overheard the lead singer, scarlett aka scar, talking to the bassist, you couldn’t help but get closer to eavesdrop on their conversation once you heard your best friend’s name being dropped mid convo.
“yeah that guy’s definitely a virgin, he talks big game but i know he doesn’t get girls..” she giggles to them. your brows furrowed in slight confusion and anger, not only was he being overly friendly with them but they were taking his kindness as a sign of weakness.
“hey that’s my friend you’re talking about, bitch !” you intervened, quickly coming to his defense, “whether he is one or not, it’s none of your damn business and he’s sure as hell not going to sleep with some washed up skanks like you.” you couldn’t believe those words even came out your mouth, but when it came to jay, you weren’t just going to sit back and let them talk about him like that.
“what’s going on ?” jay interrupts, coming back with the drinks as he noticed a sudden shift in your behavior.
“they were just talking about you !” you point over to the girls, still fuming with rage, “they said you were a virgin !”
“oh.. i mean does getting sucked off in the locker rooms by half the cheer team count ??” he jokes, snickering to himself when he remembers that moment.
you face palm, “that’s not the point, jay !” you were genuinely getting upset, why would it even matter if he was one or not ? why were they so hung up on knowing that to begin with ?
before you could say anything else or speculate any further, the lights suddenly dimmed, and the band introduces themselves to the crowd that was formed around you. scar went on a whole spiel about how they’re so grateful to be here and saying how they hope to bring more fans with this performance, they were promoting their new single, ‘bloody roses’ which you thought was a pretty corny and cliché title but nonetheless you were only here in support of your friend.
as the band started playing their first song, everyone began head banging to the music, including jay who was more than excited to be here. maybe it was because of the previous encounter you just had with them, but the music wasn’t necessarily hitting for you. it wasn’t the genre per se, you enjoyed bands such as hole, nirvana, and metallica, but they just seemed like complete rip offs of those said bands. it seemed like you were the only one who thought this way considering everyone else was vibing around you— especially jay who was singing along to every lyric word for word. you seriously couldn’t wait for this night to be over with..
not even ten minutes later, you heard a blood curdling scream off in the distance. your body stilled with uncertainty, wondering what could’ve possibly triggered such harrowing emotions, yet that was soon dissolved once you saw the burst of flames invading your vision. a rush of panic kicks in as you finally register what exactly was going on and the only thing on your mind was to get the hell out of here. everyone else had the same idea as you, bodies scrambling left and right, hurriedly trying to find an entry to freedom. you checked to see if jay was following behind you still but he wasn’t, he was gone. and so was the band.
you shouted his name as loud as you could, eyes becoming bleary whilst trying to find the nearest exit, pushing all the other attendees out of the way as the only thing you cared about in this moment was getting to safety and finding jay. you remembered that the bathrooms had a small window so you made a mad dash to the stalls, praying to god that you’d be able to fit through.
surprisingly there was no one else there, grabbing a step stool from the corner to help you climb up and ease your way out. profusely coughing from the smoke that lingered underneath the door, you use all your strength to pry the window open, body running solely off adrenaline. relief washes over you when you’re able to successfully get it to crack just enough to squeeze your body through, gasping for oxygen once you’re finally met with the outside world again.
you looked back and see that the entire bar is now ablaze– with people still inside. you watched as parts of the building collapsed, crumbling to the ground as more people were coming out. you’ve never witnessed anything more horrifying, hearing the cries of others shouting for help as they were locked in with no way out. some were so badly burned that they looked unrecognizable, their scorched skin bubbling from the third degree burns. you couldn’t bear to see such chaos but you couldn’t look away. this sight was going to be engrained into your memory for the rest of your life..
anxiety struck through you when you realize jay was still nowhere to be seen, you still had your cellphone in your pocket which you debated on calling 911, but you assumed they’d already be on the way with paramedics. you were surprised to have even made it out alive, but you hoped to god that jay was also able to escape the inferno. when an arm reaches out to suddenly grab your wrist, your first reaction was to scream loudly. still suffering from the shock of what you just experienced.
“chill the fuck out, it’s just me y/n!” you instantly recognized jay’s voice, turning around to face him. you couldn’t believe it was really him, completely unscathed just like you. you immediately wrap your arms around him, holding him tighter than ever before. you’d be able to rest easy now knowing that you two were perfectly okay.
“i was looking for you, had me worried sick !” your eyes brimmed with tears again, but it was more so tears of happiness. you wouldn’t know what you’d do if you didn’t have your best friend with you anymore.
“i’m sorry… we should’ve stuck together. i didn’t mean to abandon you..” he didn’t sound like his usual self, this time he was more frantic, just as much in shock as you were.
“oh thank god you two are alright !” scar, the singer of that shitty band runs up to the both of you, “you guy’s should come back to my van, it’s safer there.” she proposes, helping you back up on your feet as you were too weak to do so on your own.
you shook your head at that idea. “no way, i’m getting out of here, come on jay!” you grab his hand but he doesn’t follow along.
“actually, i think i’m gonna go with them..” he says, letting go of your hand to head towards the van with the other girls.
“are you crazy ?!” you couldn’t believe he’d choose them over you, even if he was a huge fan, it still didn’t make sense for him to leave with them rather than his own damn best friend. you felt betrayed.
“look i’m in survival mode just as much as you right now, we gotta get going before anything else happens !” scarlett rushes to the driver’s side whilst the others hopped in the back along with jay, who seemed perfectly fine with getting in a vehicle with some random strangers he just met.
you’re steady calling after him but he doesn’t listen nor budge, simply watching as the van speeds off. knowing deep down in your gut that something awful was going to ensue…
๑ ๑ ๑
it’s been two painstakingly long hours and still no call or text from jay. the worry was only building up inside you. what if something bad really did happen ? what if he needed your help and you left him all alone to fend for himself ? the guilt was slowly starting to eat you up, consuming your already troubled mind. but then again, you thought you may be overthinking as you usually do. he was probably having the time of his life, probably even went to some after party with them. the betrayal of him leaving you still lingered in your thoughts. how could he have done this to you ? maybe he really was the selfish jerk that mark always painted him out to be. but maybe you were just as bad for letting him leave like that. you should’ve been more assertive, now you won’t be getting any sleep tonight until you know for sure that jay will be fine.
you decide to call mark, needing to get all of this off your chest before you drove yourself anymore mentally insane than you already are. he picked up on the last ring, assuming that he was most likely asleep by now.
“hello ?” the sound of his sleepy voice gave you a sense of comfort, which is exactly what you needed at this time.
“hey..” you spoke softly, unsure of what to even say right now. you didn’t want to say anything straight away, you had to lean in towards that kind of conversation first.
“how was the concert ?” he asks, yawning as he kept talking.
you paused for a second, knowing that you’ll worry him the minute you finally express what happened hours ago. “there was a fire...”
“what ?!” there was absolutely nothing that could’ve prepared him for that, now he’s the one in full-blown panic mode.
“yeah..” was all you said in return, still trying to wrap your head around everything. the mental image of all those people still trapped inside, unknowing of their indefinite fate will forever stick with you.
“holy fuck.. you’re okay, right ?!” you could hear his body shifting under the sheets as he fully woke up from hearing this tragic news. he would’ve never been able to forgive himself had you not survived, he’d spend all of eternity blaming himself for it.
“yeah.. i’m fine. there was a stampede, you could hear their bones breaking and people running out the building as they were still on fire.. i don’t even wanna know how many didn’t make it out..” you felt sick to your stomach, you should’ve done more to help but all you thought about was saving yourself, how selfish…
“fuck.. i’m so sorry you had to see that y/n, i’m just really glad that you were able to get out of there…”
“jay left with that band but i told him not to.. he hasn’t spoken to me since then and i’m really worried, we have to go save him !” you couldn’t shake this ominous feeling that something went horribly wrong, you had to trust your instincts on this one.
“who cares about jay ! people died !” mark was baffled by how you were still only thinking about him when the main person you should be worrying about is yourself.
he then proceeded to go on an endless tirade about how horrible of a friend jay is and that he knew he shouldn’t have let you go there with someone as untrustworthy as him. you just “okay” and “alright” your way out of everything he said, but you still had this deep inkling that you were right and you need to be there to rescue him. there was no real proof that he’d be in any danger, but something just seemed so off about that group as a whole..
that’s when you heard the sudden buzz of your doorbell, thinking it may just be your roommate who forgot her key, though it was quite late and you wouldn’t expect her to be coming back around at this time of night. you stilled in your bed, internally debating whether or not you should go down there to investigate; but you ultimately decide to do so anyway.
“shh, wait— mark i think i hear someone at the door...” you tell him as you hesitantly get up, putting on your bunny slippers and slipping on a robe before slowly creaking the door open.
“who is it?” he asks, just as confused as you were.
“i-i don’t know.. that’s what i’m trying to find out..” you whisper, heading into the hallway, producing quiet footsteps as you held onto the railing that lead downstairs.
the air around you felt suffocating, only met with a grim silence whilst putting one foot in front of the other. each step you took became increasingly more cautious, you had no idea why you were such a nervous wreck or why you thought there’d be an imminent threat lurking your way, but the way your heart was thudding rapidly out of your chest made your flight or fight senses fly off the radar.
finally making it to the door, you suck in a bated breath, swallowing the thick lump that sat in the back of your throat. your hands shakily curled around the shiny knob but the minute you open it you’re left feeling even more uneasy as there wasn’t anything nor anyone at your doorstep. just pitch black darkness greeting you, along with the chilling sound of trees rustling through the wind. a heavy, lingering fog accompanied the atmosphere, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine.
you were puzzled, feeling as though someone was playing a sick joke on you. you could’ve sworn you heard it, unless you really were going crazy after all. you knew that you were a little loose around the edges, but there’s no way that you could’ve made that up— it was far too realistic. soon as you were about to brush this whole thing off and chalk it up as just a freak accident, your ears detected faint shuffling, movement coming from a far distance. this time coming from inside the confines of your own home.
…what in the actual fuck is going on right now ?
“i just heard something from the kitchen..” you made sure to keep your voice low, mind and body riddled with the fear of the unknown as you clutched onto the phone harder than ever. you couldn’t see much of anything, but you followed whatever the hell was making all that commotion.
“don’t go near it ? what the fuck, that’s horror movie 101 knowledge. never go to the noise !” mark warns but you don’t take his advice, instead you slowly crept into the living room, remaining vigilant of every move you take.
the noise only grew louder and since you knew that your roommate wasn’t here, this only made your panic heighten, afraid that there may be a possible intruder. carefully stepping into the kitchen without making a sound, your hands scramble to find the switch, turning on the light to reveal the cause of your worry. the noise stopped the minute you were able to see again, and an instant sigh of relief leaves you once you notice it was just a leaky faucet, screwing the handle to shut it back in place. but that relief would soon deem itself short lived when you hear that same cacophony of sounds from earlier, again.
you spun around to see your fridge wide open, and someone actively rummaging through it. your body froze in place, simply unable to move no matter how hard you tried to relax your muscles. it was as if something were controlling you, telling you not to move an inch; like it was protecting you from whatever may be on the other side. scraps of food met the tiled floors, containers and cartons being tossed and thrown in a rampage. as the refrigerator finally came to a close, you were more than shocked to see that it was none other than jay, who’s covered in dried blood from head to toe.
“mark.. i’ll call you back i gotta go..” you muttered quickly to your boyfriend, feeling the need to tend to your friend who’s clearly not in the best of conditions right now.
“what?! no, don’t hang up y/n, please don-” you hang up on him before he could even finish. you were slowly able to regain your strength again, tiptoeing towards the boy who hasn’t even bothered to look up at you yet.
he looked more than unwell, as if he had just survived the most brutal attack of his life. his actions resembled nothing of a human, watching as he mindlessly consumed whatever he could find in his wake. he came across a pack of raw chicken that you’ve yet to open, savagely tearing through it, devouring the meat with his bare hands. you weren’t sure how to react to any of this, but you knew that he was exhibiting anything but normal behavior.
“what are you doing ?!” you finally broke the quietness that filled the room, but you were met with no response in return.
upon hearing your startled voice, he stopped eating and averts his gaze to you. his eyes were soulless, no emotion throughout him whatsoever, looking at you as if he’s never seen you before. instead of getting up he crawls over to you, still refusing to utter a single word. your lips part to speak again but you notice a shift in his odd aura, he began coughing in the most grotesque way possible, as if he were trying to get something to leave out of his body. that’s when he starts to profusely vomit, everywhere. it wasn’t just any normal vomit though, it was a black, spiny fluid, spread all over the tiles and even spilling onto your clothes.
“jay what the hell’s wrong with you ?!” you yell at him but it was no use. he was never going to answer you, it was like he was possessed by some kind of spirit.
he finally got up on his feet, never breaking eye contact with you, his dark pupils pierced through you like the sharp edge of a butcher knife. jay could smell the fear you emitted, it only made him want to gravitate towards you more. the only sane option that ran through your mind was to call the police, taking several steps backward from his presence, but of course he doesn’t let you do that. he only moves faster, pushing you up against the wall with superhuman aggression. he grabs ahold of your wrist tightly, forcing you to drop your phone, a loud thud produced as it made contact with the ground. he remained silent throughout the whole ordeal, flashing you an eerie smile, only a hairs breadth away from meeting your plush lips.
you whimpered in fear, but he keeps shushing you, petting the crown of your head like you were a crying, wounded animal in need. “are you scared?” he whispers into you ear, already knowing the answer to that. he only continues to taunt you, licking a long, slow paced stripe along the base of your neck, coating his saliva onto your soft, shivering skin.
he wouldn’t go any further than that, simply letting go of you and backing away as if he just now was able to acknowledge what he’s done. his breathing grew heavier, unable to even look at you, it felt as though he couldn’t control his own body anymore. before you could do anything, he swiftly heads out of the back door, leaving without a trace.
“jay !” you try to call after him, but to no avail, you were left all alone, traumatized for the second time of the night.
you’ve went through the five stages of grief all in under a minute, unsure of what to even do in this moment. you’re standing here, confused, overwhelmed, and mortified— but now there’s black vomit all over your kitchen floor and on yourself. you weeped again, hopelessly trying to piece together the fragments of what the fuck just happened moments ago.
๑ ๑ ๑
the next day everyone’s talking about the fire at school. many were mourning the losses of their precious loved ones, sobbing uncontrollably from the horrific events that occurred from the night before. you sat in physics class with jay, who acted as if nothing even happened last night, carrying on as he normally did. your professor mr. choi, took a moment to speak about what happened, mentioning the saddening news that took place not even 24 hours ago. what was even more odd was that jay was smirking the entire time, attempting to hold in his laughter as he heard the professor speak, you hit his arm in response of his apathy.
“this isn’t funny..” you scold him for being so insensitive, “people died, jay ! it’s all over the news, we even made it internationally…”
he rolls his eyes, “yeah, so? people die everyday y/n, they’re not special. i’ll give it a week max and i bet you no one will be talking about it anymore.”
how could he even say something like that ? especially knowing that he knew some of the people who passed away, your beloved peers who fought for their lives at the very last seconds of being alive. it was more than insensitive, it was just plain cruel.
“what’s wrong with you ?!” you looked at him as if he’s gone mad, which he quite literally has considering what took place at your apartment last night. you haven’t mentioned it to him yet but you were reluctant on doing so, he’d probably deny everything anyway.
“what’s wrong with you ?? god.. did someone piss in your cereal this morning?” he wasn’t even remotely phased by anything you were saying, if anything, he saw it as one big mockery.
you scoff in response, mumbling something under your breath as you listen to the professor continue on with his speech. you always knew jay was the type to never wear his emotions on his sleeve, but it really rubbed you the wrong way at how he didn’t seem to shed an ounce of care about any of the people who lost their lives so abruptly.
“stop talking to yourself, makes you look even more like a weirdo,” jay quickly comments, he was irritating you the more he kept talking. if you weren’t in this classroom right now, you’d be cursing him out and giving him hell to pay— but you simply kept your mouth shut for the time being. there’s a time and place for certain things..
your melancholy only worsened as the day went by, feeling this heavy, cinder block weight of depression carried on your shoulders. the more you thought of it, the more shitty you felt. anyone would have survivor’s guilt after what you’d gone through, but it only multiplied as it fully settled in, you felt guilty for even doing something as minuscule as breathing. you truly believed that you didn’t deserve to survive, that it should’ve be you in place of someone else… why didn’t you help anyone ?
once class was dismissed, you hurried up out of your seat to go meet up with your boyfriend. jay followed behind you like a lapdog of course, but you didn’t want to speak to him. you debated on confronting him about yesterday, though you decided not to as you weren’t even sure where to begin.. you’d like to think that this was all just some intense fever dream you had but you know it wasn’t.
you physically remember being there, in your kitchen, sobbing to yourself while cleaning up the mess that jay left. you couldn’t go back to sleep after that, not after the way he looked at you like that. vividly picturing the devil’s carved grin plastered on his face, like he was going to rip your heart out of your small body and eat you alive. if you’re being completely honest, you were more fearful of your own life in that moment than you were at the bar.
even if you did tell him what happened, there’s a slim chance he’d take any responsibility for his own actions. his pride would never let him. you remember when you were kids he’d always make you get into so much trouble with him, but the minute you two got caught he’d simply deny everything and pin it all on you. jay was always able to manipulate his way out of just about anything— sociopaths are quite charismatic. you’d often joke with him that he was one, to which he’d never deny or confirm. deep down you’d hope that your own best friend wasn’t, but those old memories gave you all the same reminiscing feelings you felt years ago. or maybe, you were just as demented as he is.. birds of a feather flock together, right ?
๑ ๑ ๑
jay would only become increasingly possessive as time went on. he’s always exhibited quite clingy behaviors but things only snowballed from the night at the bar and onwards. he’d constantly be blowing up your phone, texting you the weirdest, most cryptic shit at 4 in the morning; or if you didn’t respond fast enough for his liking, he’d call you over twenty times until you finally answered, not caring at all if you were with mark. he only made you feel more guilty if you expressed needing space, simply threatening to harm himself or make it seem as if it’d be your fault if something bad were to happen and you didn’t pick up the phone. you don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but he surely hasn’t been acting like himself ever since he interacted with that band.
a month has flown by and you notice jay was starting to look paler than a ghost, the dark circles under his eyes made it seem as though he hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep in months. he looked like death. as if his own flesh was eating him from the inside out. you thought maybe it could be due to stress of some kind, but it wasn’t humanly possible for him to change this drastically. he resembled nothing short of a sickly patient lying on their deathbed, awaiting the grim reaper to come knocking at their doorstep at any minute. he lost a lot of muscle mass as well, turning into a weaker, much more frail version of himself. it truly pained you to see him in such a state, how sunken in his face was, gaunt like a skeleton. an unbearable sight indeed..
“you look like shit..” you tried to say it the nicest way possible but there was no other way to express your concerns, “you okay.. ?”
“gee thanks, and yeah, never been better actually.” jay replied, his tone laced with the utmost sarcasm.
obviously you don’t take his word for it. you know there’s something deeper going on but you didn’t impose any further. you didn’t want him to get upset or agitated with anymore of your prying, so you let it go for now.
the distressing environment around campus only thickens when a brutal murder was reported a few weeks ago. the sight of a decomposing body was found in the middle of the woods, right behind the football field. one of the professors discovered it as they took a walk along the trail— later identified to be soojin, the pretty little captain of the cheer team. her organs were scattered all over the perimeters, painting the greenery with a bold, crimson hue. some parts of her corpse weren’t able to be located, as most of her disemboweled body was eaten by the hungry animals, feasting on her rotting flesh like they just scored a full course meal.
this only caused an uproar of mass hysteria throughout the school, leaving everyone to believe that there may be something even more sinister going on. a vigil was held for her just as there was for the other victims who died in the fire; friends, family, and other town folk gathered around in memory of her. a police investigation was launched shortly after, but there haven’t been many updates on the case so far as no foul play was detected. the authorities simply assumed it to be an animal attack— albeit one of the most gruesome and barbaric attacks they’ve ever seen in their careers.
when you spoke to jay about it one night, you discussed all possible theories you’ve been brainstorming in your head. you believed it very well could’ve been an animal that did it, possibly a wild bear that just enjoys munching on humans for dinner— but he told you that was far from likely. however, you thought maybe he was only saying that just to instill more fear in you, which secretly worked.
you didn’t completely dismiss the possibility of it being some bloodthirsty animal.. she was torn limb from limb with absolutely no sign of weapons being used, so the likeliness of a regular person being able to do something of that caliber with their own bare hands made it almost slim to none. you truly thought her death was one of the saddest ways to go out.. you never spoke to soojin a day in your life but she was pretty popular and fairly well liked amongst everyone, you’d never guess her of all people would end up with a fate like this.
as you trudged through the halls, you bumped into one of your classmates ryujin, who’s been asking nonstop if you could set her up with jay. you’ve known for a while that she’s always had a thing for him and was hoping you could play cupid and be the middle man for her. you’d been putting it off for a while since you highly doubted that he’d reciprocate those same feelings, but being the good sport you are, you end up telling her that you’ll talk to jay, although you couldn’t make any promises.
upon meeting up with jay later on in the day, you proposed the idea to him, but of course, he declined almost straight away saying he wasn’t interested. he referred to her as that ‘weird, stoner goth chick who tries too hard’ and wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole. you definitely expected him to be adverse to your idea, but maybe not to this extent. you just wanted to see your friend happy but of course jay always has to ruin it…
however, not even an hour later, he ends up agreeing to it, as if a switch had flipped in his brain. you thought it was a bit strange how he’d simply gone from one extreme to the next but you didn’t question it as you had no reason to. ultimately, you were just happy for ryujin, at least she’d get to spend some alone time with her crush.
you on the other hand, had a multitude of worries of your own. you and mark were supposed to go see the new twilight movie in theaters, just to get your mind off everything— yet what you felt most anxious about was what’ll occur afterwards. you were planning on losing your virginity tonight, feeling as though you were ready to take the next step with him. well, at least you thought so.. but now you weren’t even feeling sure of that anymore. a part of you felt pressured to just lose it already and since you were dating mark, you may as well do it, right ? if only it were that simple..
๑ ๑ ๑
your nerves were at an all time high as you laid beneath his bare form. inhaling, exhaling, and repeating those same steps over and over. your mind was racing a million miles per minute, staring up at the ceiling as you rethink all of your life decisions.
everything seemed fine at first, until it wasn’t..
you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it, but all you knew was that this felt strange.. something doesn’t feel right.. all you could do was lay there, utterly detached from reality.
numbness.. that’s all you felt..
you wanted to crawl into your own skin and die, you shouldn’t be so repulsed by your own boyfriend being on top of you— but that was the only emotion you bore.
everything felt so foreign to you, his touch, the way he caressed you, it didn’t feel right. you couldn’t shake this odd sensation, it was something you didn’t want for yourself. you wanted to puke, absolutely sick to your stomach.
he kissed your neck, but you don’t feel a thing. completely stoic and emotionless. all you’re thinking about right now is jay. you had this inclination that something went terribly wrong and you needed an escape.
“i-i can’t do this.. i’m sorry..” you finally say out loud, quickly pushing him off of you before anything else could continue.
“did i do something wrong ?” mark asks, confused by your sudden coldness.
you simply don’t answer, scrambling to put on your clothes and leaving his house in a hurry to go and run to your car. you began driving in the direction of jay’s dorm, not knowing whether he’d be there or not. the limited amount of streetlights made it even more difficult to see, but you spot a shadowy figure heading towards you on the main road.
in a rush of panic you slammed onto the brakes hard, trying not to run over whatever’s coming towards the vehicle, thinking it was probably a deer or something—but you see that it’s jay, his clothes stained in blood just like night he was in your kitchen. you immediately got out of the car to go help him but he was no longer there anymore, as if he’s vanished into thin air.
confusion doesn’t even begin to describe what you were feeling.. reluctantly heading back home, hoping that it was all some vivid hallucination that you were having— but the minute you went upstairs into your room, you see jay sitting on your bed, not a single drop of blood detected anywhere on him anymore.
“what are you doing here ?” you ask, blankly staring down at him over the rim of your glasses.
“just wanted to drop by and see my favorite girl.” he smiles crookedly, looking much healthier than he did when you saw him earlier, “what’s wrong with that, hm?”
“why’re you in my bed ? just go back to your dorm jay.” you didn’t have time for his little games right now, you just wanted to shut the whole world out.
“but i wanna stay… plus we always used to sleep together when we had sleep overs.” he pouts, proceeding to get even more comfortable as he had no plans on leaving anytime soon.
“is that my grateful dead t-shirt?” you get a bit closer to examine, growing irritated that he went through your stuff without even asking.
he doesn’t respond, at least not in the way you think he would. instead, jay harshly pressed his lips against yours. stretching the neckline of your shirt to pull all your weight on top of his. he managed to have some self control at first, but that didn’t last too long as he savored the taste of you. hesitantly, you kissed him back, whimpering at the feel of his tongue prodding at your lips, begging for entry. your mouth slightly parts, giving him just enough leeway for him to devour you in the sloppiest, most depraved way possible. he kissed you hard, hard enough to knock the wind out of you. nothing but raw passion and burning desire throughout.
his lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, tangling your hands into his messy, raven locks. jay would only grow more unhinged, never letting you gasp for air for more than half a second. he explored the depths of you, every nook and cranny, like he wanted you down to the marrow, swallowing you whole. he felt this primal urge in wanting to bite you, to sign your death with his teeth— but he resisted, at least not yet anyway.
when his hands came up to find your hips, his touch felt scorching hot against your skin… lifting your skirt up inch by inch. then the realization of what you��re doing finally hits, that you have a goddamn boyfriend and this isn’t something you should ever be doing with your best friend. quickly getting off of him, shouting in protest.
“jay, what the fuck ?!” you were horrified, not even wanting to look at him anymore.
“language y/n !” he giggles at your filthy vocabulary, licking his lips to capture your taste once more, “don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it either.”
“but i’ll admit, the reason i’m here exactly is.. i have a confession to make..” he takes a dramatic pause before continuing, “i haven’t been completely honest with you, and you’re the only one i can trust.”
you look at him strangely, unsure of what he fully meant by that, “what is it..”
“i’m dead.”
now you’re staring at him as if he just said the most absurd shit you ever heard, which quite literally it was.
“huh ? what do you mean you’re dead?”
“what do you not understand y/n, it’s pretty self explanatory.” he casually says if he were simply talking about the weather.
“i’m not sure i follow..” you didn’t get where he was heading with any of this, hoping that it’s just some joke with a bad punchline.
“it means i’m dead— as in not alive.” he repeats nonchalantly.
“jay, shut up. you’re not funny.” crossing your arms in annoyance, growing more impatient with him by the second.
“it’s true, i swear !”
“you’re ridiculous..” you’ve had enough of his little shenanigans, ready to walk away from him but he grabs you at the last minute, forcibly bringing you back to meet his gaze.
“just listen, it’ll all make sense soon,” he pleads, flashing you a sweet, puppy eyed look that could make anyone fold almost instantly.
“‘kay.. fine whatever.” you heave a sigh, sitting back down on your bed, still a bit reluctant on hearing him out.
“there’s something inside me… an evil entity,” he explains further, “ever since that night at the bar my body feels.. different.” he proceeds to tell you this dumb story that you weren’t buying for a second.
“c’mon, you really expect to believe tha-”
he cuts you off, proceeding to go on a whole tangent, “remember that band i told you about ? they drove me out to the creek, dragged me out of the van and offered me as a virgin sacrifice in exchange for fame and fortune. they kept telling me how hard it was to make it as an indie band so this was the only option they had left.. all i can remember afterwards was how much pain i was in… they each took turns stabbing me to death, singing some creepy chant as they did it, then they lit me on fire.. but the problem is that i’m not a virgin, so when scar and her little gang murdered me the ritual backfired and a demonic spirit took over my body. i was able to escape the forest but i left feeling so hungry.. so on my way back home, i saw some girl on the opposite side of the pavement, she looked quite edible so i ate her. and that’s how i started eating human flesh.”
you had no words. your only reaction was to blink rapidly at everything he just told you. there’s no way he could be telling you the truth, stuff like that only happens in movies, pure fiction. “that’s the craziest fucking story you’ve ever made up in your entire life jay.”
he seemingly grows frustrated at the fact you aren’t taking his words seriously, but he kept on talking anyway. “i’m being serious y/n, you’ve gotta believe me ! they’re basically agents of satan, they simply used me as a pawn. i was their gateway to the lifestyle they so desperately wanted to achieve..”
“so what you’re saying is that you’ve been reincarnated as a demonic spirit that feeds off of human flesh ? that’s what you’re trying to get at ??” you ask, confirming his very weird, but oddly specific narrative.
jay nods, “yes, that’s precisely what i’m trying to say.”
“so.. you’re telling me you’re the one who killed soojin ?” you question outrightly, hoping at the very least he had nothing to do with it, but if what he is saying was true that could very well be a possibility.
he nods again, “yep. and ryujin.”
your blood ran cold the minute upon hearing that, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, “wait- what ?!”
“yeah, i only agreed to meet up with her just to eat her. so it’s practically your fault that she’s dead.” he shrugs, seeing it as if it was no big deal.
you couldn’t comprehend a single thing your ears were hearing right now.. your own classmate was dead and gone because of your best friend.
“you’re a fucking monster.. she had a whole life ahead of her. hopes and dreams just like the rest of us..”
“well, now she’s food for worms, sucks to suck,” jay shrugs again, speaking so nonchalant about everything it made you want to scream at the top of your lungs.
disgusted didn’t even amount up to what you felt, sitting there in silence trying to process all of this.
“anyway, wanna see something cool?” he asks, not even bothering to await your response as you gave him the most questionable look of all mankind.
“i can withstand any injury without pain and i’m difficult to kill, see.” he takes one of your gel pens from your nightstand and stabs it straight into his own wrist, he was bleeding heavily at first but then the wounds start to close up within a few seconds, eventually fading away as if he didn’t just stab himself at all.
“see ! how cool is that ?? like some x-men type shit,” he says like a giddy school kid, bragging over his new abilities. “when i’m full, i’m practically invincible. i’m a fucking god.”
again, you were too stunned to speak. you genuinely thought you were losing your mind at this point, there’s no way any of this is real. it’s all a bad dream. you just need to pinch yourself and you’ll wake up, right ..?
“oh by the way, that night i snuck into your place, i was having all sorts of thoughts.. even thought about hurting you but i could never do that..” he finally admits to the night when he went into your kitchen, “i was just so hungry but nothing would satisfy my craving..” his eyes were a window to the truth, and by the looks of how empty they were, it was safe to assume you still had every right to frightened.
“jay, i- i really think you should leave…” your whole body was practically shaking, you couldn’t bear to look but you were far more terrified of looking away— falling apart at the seams.
he doesn’t even budge a little upon hearing you, “oh c’monn y/n, let me stay the night; we can play boyfriend and girlfriend like we used to… good times am i right ?” he strokes your hand with his, not even fully understanding the gravity of what he’s done or said this whole time.
“jay you’re freaking me the fuck out !” you raise your voice louder, removing yourself away from his touch. how could you let a literal murderer touch you ?
“there’s no need for you to be. i already told you that i’m not gonna hurt you.. at least not in that way..” jay clung onto you again, this time dragging you back down onto the bed as he forced himself on top of you.
you scrunch your eyes shut at the feel of his hands on you, idle fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. a surge of heat flushes down your thighs, blood rushing to your cheeks... and to your core. god, you were so embarrassed right now.
“w-what are you doing …?” you breathe out, opening your eyes once again, only to see him staring straight into your soul.
“don’t get all shy on me now.. we’re just havin’ a bit of fun,” he answers, “just messing around like the old days, right ?” he slid his index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimeters away from yours.
“jay no, please-” you begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.
“shh, it’s okay, i’ll take the lead. we can go slow… i promise i won’t bite. unless you want me to.” he darkly chuckles, tilting his head to the side, pressing a light kiss to your lips. surprisingly, you reciprocate it. he pulls his hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting too much pressure around it just yet. “see, i knew you’d be into it, you’re my little freak, aren’t you ?”
you hated that you were getting aroused from this, the way he spoke to you in that husky tone. that same bubbling heat rushing to your core again.. you wanted to fight it, you truly did, but you couldn’t. your mind was telling you one thing but your body was reacting differently, as if you were under some spell that he casted.
you don’t know what to answer to that. is there even anything you can even say back to him ? you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to. and besides, what’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and your mattress, his fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face, would you really be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this ? he practically knows you better than your own self at times, of course he’d be able to tell…
he kisses you again, but this time much hungrier, his tongue dominating yours easily. he nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your soft flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath— apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth.
he grazes the bump of your pussy covered by your lace panties with his fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. you wanted to close your legs shut, but when he slowly rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a desperate whine escapes your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. the moment only brief until he dips his hand into your underwear.
you try to make him stop by grabbing ahold of his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that only makes him chuckle in response.
“mm.. already begging for me, sweetheart ?” he softly laughs, smirking at you. “excited by the idea of my fingers in your little cunt instead of your boyfriend’s ? hm ?”
you frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this... your thoughts are going into a completely different direction. what the hell’s wrong with you ?
“you wanna know how it feels, baby? what it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” his dirty talk only continues, you couldn’t fathom this was really jay speaking to you in such a vulgar manner like this. your best friend who’s about to take your virginity whether you wanted it to happen or not, he was going to make sure that mark could never have you in such a way, wanted to ruin it for everyone else like he always does.
he’s not waiting for a response as he starts stroking your bundle of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. you let out another whine, this time of genuine pleasure.
jay then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for too long as he pushes a finger into you without warning. you bit down on your bottom lip harshly— the size of his fingers in no comparison to yours. your eyes swelled with water, faint little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit.
“i know, i know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” you nod your head, confirming his words. “it’ll feel good soon, i promise. you’re probably only used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”
when he says this, you have a hard time believing him. how could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this— when it’s not what you wanted..
he begins moving his fingers in and out of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. he’d curls his fingers every so often, making a little hook shape, patting your sweet spot. the intrusion was uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace.
tears continued to flow, falling down to your cheeks, lashes all wet and sticky, but they weren’t the result of your pain…
“god.. look at you. so pretty when you cry,” jay murmurs beside your ear, butterflies swirling in your stomach when he tells you this.
he unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his shoulder. you now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g spot. you dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. this makes you breathless, head rolling back onto your pillows, having never experienced anything like this before.
“o-oh my god-!” you exclaim when jay’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. your legs couldn’t stop twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.
you’d probably be more aware of how hard he was if it weren’t trapped in his loosely fitting jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than jay fingering you, hitting your sensitive spots each time he thrusts in.
“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, moving faster. “you feel it ? huh?” he asks and you’re able to croak out a weak ‘yes’. “tell me how it feels.”
you hate his questions— you hate them so damn much. he knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.
“g-good.”
“yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans and whimpers you let out.
“yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and slowly nodding your head. “fuck !” you curse out when you finally reach your high, nails digging into his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body violently shaking.
jay helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy dewy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all while said in the sweetest tone, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet.
“good girl,” he praises, “see, i told you it’d feel great.”
he still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. it’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but jay retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.
he could simply stop there, but he won’t— not until he fully got what he wanted, he needs more…
he pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening with your arousal. “open wide for me, baby,” he instructs.
you glance at his hand, a little repulsed. you’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for him.
you then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in.
“suck,” he adds on, expecting you to blindly follow all of his orders, and you do so without a second thought.
he stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. the taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… it doesn’t taste like much of anything, in fact.
he removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “just as sweet as you are,” he grins. “stand up for me, wan’ you to suck me off.”
your wobbly legs do their best at balancing themselves, slowly getting up only to be told to get back down on your knees. you sink down to the ground, leaning over to eye his stiff erection through his pants, slowly rubbing your hand over it as you palm him in your grasp. he hisses at the feel, already loving how you obediently take orders, how you’ve become nothing but a mindless slut for him.
you didn’t know the first thing you were doing but you did what felt natural, so you free his cock from the confines of his pants and underwear, watching as it sprung out and slapped against his stomach. jay was huge. his veiny, pink dick standing tall in front of you, gulping as you debate on how you’re going to take all of him in your tiny mouth.
his length throbbed in your small hand, tip already leaking out a pearly bead of precum, dribbling onto your fingers. you slowly press your mouth against the tip, keeping it there for a bit to get a little taste of him and to get used to the feel. then you swirled your tongue lightly around it, loving the salty tanginess of his precum against your tongue.
“fuck… feel so good around me already,” he bit his lip harshly, gripping the sheets as he groans with pleasure.
you wrap your mouth tighter around his length as you begin to slide your head down. bobbing it back and forth, keeping a tight suction on his cock, making sure not to use any teeth. you feel jay’s hips jolt up from the feel as you drew more saliva from your mouth, making a mess all over yourself.
he let out a low moan when his length hits the back of your throat, accidentally gagging at how much you took. you couldn’t take all of him in your mouth completely, but you did the best with what you could, bobbing your head as your hand stroked the rest. the way you looked while taking him made him want to bust at the very sight, nothing could compare to having your mouth around him.
“atta girl, keep going— just like that baby— ahh….” he keeps encouraging you, giving you small praises here and there. he does his best not to keep his eyes off you but he wanted to shut his eyes from how good you were making him feel, you were such a natural at this. as you continued stroking his cock with your pretty, talented mouth, he elicits more moans and it only makes you want to make him cum faster.
jay bit his lip even harder, trying so hard not to close his eyes, taking in shallow breaths. he could feel himself getting closer and his whole body tenses up like he’s got a volcano erupting inside him.
“shit— think ‘m gonna come… damn baby…”
you couldn’t say anything since his cock was buried deep down your throat. the only thing on your mind right now was getting him to finish inside your mouth. you lightly hum as you pick up your pace, he matches your movements with his hips, fucking your mouth aggressively. there was saliva everywhere, your face was flushed and you seriously looked such a mess. a beautiful mess, all for jay.
you feel his thickness throbbing in your mouth and a warm sensation hits the back of your throat. white ropes of his cum releases into you and you swallow it immediately, to which you earn yourself a “good girl” as you look up at him, drinking up all his cum. surprisingly, he tasted pretty good, emptying every last drop of him, once you finally pulled away he orders for you to get back on the bed and to bend over for him. you only hesitated for a second, looking at him credulously before doing what he asked of you, trembling legs meeting with the soft sheets again.
“are you…?” you say under your breath, peering over your shoulder to see jay stroking himself, looking at your glistening pussy that’s spread on perfect display for him.
“gonna put my cock inside you ?” he finishes your question for you. “yeah, i am.”
you stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. he pumps himself a couple more times before aligning his head with your dripping wet entrance. his free hand keeping your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.
“careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” he swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing throughout the room.
you can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. the burning sensation of your cunt getting stretched out was enough to make you see stars, and he was right. this hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings were not comparable at all.
“jay-,” you cry out, holding onto the sheets below you for dear life until there’s no more blood circulating in your knuckles.
he hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. when he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.
you bit onto your lip, compressing a moan that dared to slip from your mouth again. he deliberately pounded into you, like he wanted everyone near to know just how badly he was ruining you, wanting you to beg and cry out for mercy, like he wanted every bone in your body to bend and break.
you involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. he thrusts himself deeper into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at an agonizingly harsh pace. each time he bottoms out, jay makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.
your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restriction. it’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.
you don’t know how long you can stay in this position for, especially when jay’s drilling his hard cock into you like nothing else matters. it’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.
you’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath fanning against your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. you can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your gummy walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him right in.
“shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis.
he kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. he leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. as he thrusts into you, his balls smack your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. jay lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face.
your mouth gaped to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. he didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough. making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you to death or eating you— or both. jay doesn’t care, he just wants it. it doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. jay feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.
“please.. jay, so good..”
“gonna come in this tight little virgin pussy.” he captured your waist pulling you closer into him. “wanna put a baby in you, bet you’d like that, huh ?”
“holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until strings of white paints your insides. “oh, god…”
he stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. he then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you.
but he wasn’t done just yet, he wanted you to be completely, utterly, and thoroughly ruined by all parts of him. his fingers, his cock, and now his tongue.
“just need another taste..” jay couldn’t get enough of you, practically blinded by lust, all he wants is to have you, only you, no one else was more perfect than you.
he bends down, toying with your clit and licking your opening until you turned into a yelping mess underneath his tongue, tugging onto the sheets, pillows, whatever you could grasp, feeling like you were about to die. he had a strong grip on your thighs, kept you in place while you came on his tongue like you were made for it, so pretty and ashamed that he’s lost all self-restraint, if ever had any to begin with.
he continued to lap at your cunt, kissing and sucking at your clit, moaning into your heat. hands caressing your thighs, fingernails piercing, spreading you open wider for him. you grind against his face and jay couldn’t help but groan at the way you were so enthralled by the feel. his tongue never letting up against your clit, following your cunt with every movement you make, not letting you catch a break from the feeling of him against you.
his mouth domes around your clit, sucking you right in, teeth lightly grazing against your bud, momentarily making your back arch. mid arch, jay slips two fingers into you. the slight sting makes you hiss as he stretches you out again, long digits buried to the knuckles inside of you upon initial thrust. he soon plants open mouthed kisses against your cunt, fingers working their way in and out of you at an obnoxious pace, curling naturally.
the combination of jay’s tongue and fingers, along with his lips planting kisses against your cunt in between sloppy licks, is all too overwhelming. you couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers, pulling them in to beg for more, to which he gladly gives. fingers fucking into you faster, much deeper than ever before. the feeling of your impeding orgasm has you shaking, practically vibrating, unable to brace yourself for it.
tears pooling down the side of your face as you moan out for him. the tips of his fingers repeatedly hit the soft, gushy spot deep inside of you, biting his lip as he watches you come undone for him all over again. his thumb massaged your clit, slowly but surely dragging you further off the edge. you felt yourself relax into his touch, into the feeling of lust and desire fully engulfing your soul. that’s when it takes over… your vision blurs, almost going black, mouth agape as you let out broken moans. it’s all too much for you to handle, but you never want it to end..
your chest is getting hot and heavy, tightening as you cum, releasing all stress and tension, absolutely melting into this state that makes you feel like you’re floating. your body was on cloud nine as your cunt spills all over his fingers, wetness squirting all over jay’s forearm and thighs.
“jay…” you said his name on repeat, so low and barely audible, mind all foggy and hazy, as if he’d hypnotized you and the only word you can say was his name.
๑ ๑ ๑
a modus operandi. every killer has one, don’t they ?
some tend to prey on the young, weak, and most vulnerable. some may even go so far as devising a foolproof scenario that’ll get others to feel sorry for them, only to lure them right into their devious traps.
jay was no exception to this rule. he knew exactly how to use his good looks and charisma to get anyone to fall for his tricks. he didn’t need to put in too much effort, he didn’t have to seek anyone out because they’d come to him anyway. and no one knew a goddamn thing besides you. which only made you want to scream internally. only you knew the real truth.
ryujin’s death was the next topic of discussion for this whole week as more terror spewed upon the town. no one saw it coming, she was the last person anyone would think could be a target. gossip spread around quickly, revealing more details about the scene of the crime.
some of her internal organs were missing and was cannibalized just like soojin was. her body was so badly mutilated the authorities couldn’t even identify her at first. many were now believing it to be an act of some kind of satanic cult as there was a gigantic pentagram smeared in blood on her bedroom mirror. some were even saying that she looked like ‘lasagna with teeth’, to which you shuddered at that mental image being planted in your mind.
there was a campus curfew set in place to ensure the safety and wellbeing of the rest of the students. everyone’s worried they’ll be next, and since the killer hasn’t been caught this only made the entire town as a whole become on edge. the streets were barren, no sign of any activity past nine o’clock. no one felt safe, it was as if everything was on lockdown now. many were concerned that the upcoming spring formal would get canceled, but it’s been confirmed that it’ll still be held, although the times were changed from 7-10 PM to 6-8 PM to follow the curfew’s ‘no one out past nine o’clock rule’.
while studying in the library, you decided to do some of your own research about jay’s strange condition, reading as many occult books as you could find. you later discovered that he’s an incubus; a male demon that has sexual activity with other women. he was at his weakest state whenever he’s hungry, needing to feed on human flesh in order to sustain his lifespan and overall appearance. you never believed in the supernatural before all of this, but now that you’ve seen it with your own two eyes, you don’t think you’ll be able to live a normal life again.
“this can’t be real… there’s no way any of this is a coincidence, first the fire now a cannibal psycho’s on the loose?” mark rants about the recent murders as you sat on the swings at the park together. you were jealous of how blissfully ignorant he was, how he had no idea how much deeper this all ran.
“i know… it seems like we can’t catch a break, now the whole words got a raging tragedy boner for us..” you sigh out heavily, still shocked by how much media coverage all of this was getting, and even more uncertain if you wanted to tell him everything.
“you alright ?” he suddenly asks, noticing the way your head hung low as you stared at your feet. it was as if he could read your mind.
you pause for a moment, battling with your own inner demons on whether or not it was a good time to tell him everything, but you decide to be honest. it was the least you could do after what happened the other day…
“actually no.. i’m not..” you couldn’t withhold this information all to yourself anymore, you had to tell mark. you needed to keep him from going to the spring formal; it wasn’t safe for him to go, even if you would be with him.
so you spill everything, starting off from the night of going to the bar with jay, how he was brutally murdered and left for dead by that girl band who used him as a sacrifice, you told him about how he was there in your kitchen, and how he ended up slaughtering so many innocent people in his wake. you felt so sure of yourself that mark would believe you, but you were soon proven wrong the minute he opened his mouth.
“yeah you’ve officially lost it y/n, i hope you know that.” he looks at you as if you’ve gone crazy, mirroring the same actions as you from the night that jay confessed to you.
“i’m telling the truth mark, you’ve gotta believe me. you have to promise me that you won’t go...” you practically beg, hoping that all of this won’t fall on deaf ears, but of course, he doesn’t listen.
“i’m sorry but i don’t believe anything you’re saying right now.” he chooses to remain stubborn, staying in his ignorant little bubble as if you were just making all of this up just to get a reaction out of him.
“mark, i love you and care about you so much, that’s why i’m asking you not to go.” you continue to try and reason with him, hoping that he’ll change his mind somehow, even if you sounded like a lunatic you didn’t care.
“he’s going to strike again that night, i can feel it. it’ll be like an all you can eat buffet for him !” you may not be the most morally correct person, but mark’s life was on the line. you just don’t want him getting turned into satan chow…
“look, i’m going and that’s final y/n. with or without you.” he wasn’t interested in hearing whatever else you had to say, he’s already made up his mind and there no use in changing it.
you huff out of frustration, unable to think of anything else so you do what you feel was best for him and the both of you. “mark, i really didn’t wanna have to do this but it isn’t safe for us to be together. i think it’s best we break up..”
his eyes widened, feeling the pace of his heart quicken at your sudden words, “what ? you can’t be serious, y/n.”
“i bet jay put you up to this, didn’t he ?” his jaw clenched, fuming at the thought of jay conspiring a whole plan in getting you two to finally break up, it’s what he always would’ve wanted, and now mark feels like he’s just lost that seven month long, intensive battle against him.
you repeatedly shook your head, denying his accusation. but deep down you knew that you’ve already broken his trust anyway. maybe it was for the better that you were no longer together.
“are you really too blinded to see? he’s always been a bad influence on you..” mark was fed up at this point, feeling rightfully hurt by how easily you wanted to end this relationship all because of jay. “if he told you to jump, i bet you’d ask ‘how high?’, he’s got you wrapped around his finger, controlling you like a damn puppet !”
you were now the one to get in defensive mode, visibly getting upset. but you couldn’t get too upset, you knew there was a small truth to that statement, you were willing to do a lot of things you normally wouldn’t for jay, but you weren’t just going to let mark talk to you like that. your pride was too strong, plus you were already dealing with enough as it is. parting ways from each other was probably the best solution for you two.
“no.. i was only trying to protect you, but don’t say i didn’t warn you..” you gave him one last chance to rethink his decision but you knew he wouldn’t.
on that note, you end up heading back home. leaving mark all alone to go ponder in his own thoughts, feeling his eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he watched you walk away, fading into the void of obscurity.
๑ ๑ ๑
the night of the spring formal was finally here. the night you’ve been dreading since having that conversation with mark, forcing you to break up with him. the minute you got here you’ve been on high alert, scanning the area for any sign of suspicious activity, bringing a swiss knife with you as an added layer of protection. everyone was dressed in their best attire, bodies swaying to the music as they all tried to have a good time despite of everything that’s been happening. you didn’t see mark which you thought was a good sign, but surprisingly, you also don’t see jay anywhere either.
you were engulfed in nostalgia once mr.bright side by the killers airs on the overhead speakers of the gymnasium; which used to be you and jay’s favorite song in high school, but that fond memory only brought a wave of sadness to your soul now. looking back on those days, you specifically remember how much jay’s presence gave you strength to keep going; to keep existing. you truly felt as though you had no reason to live, but he gave you one.
during your adolescent years, it was nothing but turbulence and chaos. your father would routinely come home at the crack of dawn, drunk as sin and belligerent, destroying everything he touched. your mother would do her best to shield you from seeing and hearing their daily arguments, telling you to go straight to your room and lock the door until she says it’s safe to come back out. but being the nosy, and curious child you were you’d push your ear up to the door and listen. hearing the most horrid, degrading words he’d spew, beating her black and blue until he physically grew tired and passed out on the couch. you’d run away from home a couple times, going to jay for comfort, finding solace in one another.
jay could easily relate to your struggles, how you both felt as though no one saw you as real, raw human beings. his father left before he was even born and his mother would dabble in sex work to keep the lights on. he despised every single one of those men who’d come into his home, sometimes his mom would be gone for several days on end, forcing him to grow up at a young age and take care of himself. he wanted to seek revenge on all of those men who violated her, kill them with his own bare hands. maybe that’s why he’d act out so much, he was just a kid being a kid— but no one ever saw the cries for help, no one paid attention to the signs. just labeled a pretty boy with ugly intentions. you never saw him that way though, you were the light at the end of the tunnel, his saving grace. yeah you may have been the awkward kid who didn’t talk much, but eventually he got you to open up. and ever since then, you’ve been conjoined at the hip.
a part of you still wants to believe that he’s that same naïve boy you once knew, still so lost and so confused. but you couldn’t keep making excuses for him, even if he was a damaged soul, so were you. you truly brought out the best and the worst of each other, having seen each other at some of your lowest points in life. which is why you made a vow to never leave the other behind, but we change and evolve over time, it’s natural to grow distant. jay simply couldn’t handle the fact that someone else made you smile, made you feel all those emotions he made you feel— you were slipping right through his fingers. you were all he had left. and he wasn’t going to lose you, not now, not ever.
๑ ๑ ๑
an hour’s passed by already and there was still no sight of either of the two. your mild worries would soon fester into full blown anxiousness when you get this innate feeling that mark could be in danger. you weren’t exactly sure where he was, or if he’s had an encounter with jay, but all you could think about right now was saving his life. even though you betrayed him in the end by sleeping with jay, you couldn’t let him die, you’d never be able to live with yourself if you let that happen. so you hurried out of there and went looking for him, having zero idea exactly where you were headed, but your mind just kept telling you run, run, run.
you don’t know how long you’ve been running for, maybe around twenty, thirty minutes ? who even knows anymore. your legs grew tired, stopping midway to take a breather, until you ended up at an old abandoned pool house. you had an overwhelmingly bad feeling about the place the more you looked at it, but when you heard the gut wrenching screams coming from inside that only confirmed your suspicions, sounding a lot like someone you knew. you ran inside, following their cries for help as you try and locate which direction it was coming from, only to find jay who seems to have found his next victim— your ex boyfriend.
“get away from him !” you demand while shouting from across the room. you can feel your heartbeat accelerate as you’re speed running towards them both, forcefully pushing him off of mark, tackling jay onto the floor.
“i thought you only did this to girls !” you had held some hope that jay wouldn’t harm him, but then again you should’ve known this was bound to happen..
“i guess you can say i go both ways,” he devilishly smirks, swiping the blood off his lower lip with the sleeve of black tux.
jay throws you off of him, causing you to wince in pain as your face made contact with the cold, tiled ground. you wouldn’t back down that easily though, getting right back up to finish what you started. sprinting towards him before he could get back to the work of his own brutality.
“you know, now that i think of it. you were never a good friend to me,” you angrily spat, walking up to him with your head held high, refusing to let fear win this time. “you used to rip the head off my barbie dolls and pour spoiled milk all over my bed !”
jay chuckles at your little speech, utterly amused by your resilience, even found it cute how you were still reminiscing about the past. “and now i’m eating your boyfriend, at least i’m consistent.” he shrugged.
“you make me fucking sick..” you grit through your teeth, grabbing ahold of him before he could take another bite out of mark’s shoulder.
using all your strength, you’d shoved him into the pool, submerging him into the water, attempting to drown him, but those efforts were futile when he regains control. he pulls you back, teeth becoming sharper, like tiny daggers, sinking them into the flesh of your neck. before you could react, you’re the one being lodged into the water; claw-like nails digging into your scalp, razor sharp, weighty against your skull.
it’s hard to keep your head above the water due to the forceful heaviness and before you know it, attempting to hold your breath renders itself useless due to large amounts of water infiltrating your lungs. you’re flailing, thrashing around, arms lifting— hands frantically attempting to grab ahold of anything, only to slash through the water, legs kicking mindlessly.
you had to get him off you real quick, or else you felt as though you were going to die. your body grew weaker and weaker, seeing your life flash before your very eyes as panic fully sets in. it felt as though this was going on for hours.. being edged by death over and over; feeling as if you were going to black out soon. your vision was blocked by the dark, murkiness of the water, ensuring to agitate you with fright, unsure of when it’s all going to come to an end.
and then it does… finally able to emerge from the coldness as you cough up all the water you inhaled. it took a few minutes for you to be able to learn how to breathe again, attempting to calm yourself down, only to turn around seeing both jay and mark wailing in pain for two completely different reasons. mark was lying on the ground, putting pressure on his neck as jay stood there frozen, holding onto the pool skimmer that was deliberately pierced through his stomach.
“you son of a fucking bitch…” he mutters, remaining still for a second, as if he was processing what just happened. a slew of more curses left his lips, sucking in air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can. he’d slowly but surely drop to his knees, and a few seconds later he’s collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood.
you go up to mark, staring down at his wounded figure, his neck and shoulder bleeding profusely. “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you..” you sniffled, unable to hold back tears you’ve shed, wishing you could’ve been just a few minutes earlier.
“it’s okay.. i love you y/n..” mark weakly spoke, coughing up red splatters of blood as he took his last few and final breathes.
you gave him one last kiss as his eyes closed, you checked for a pulse but there was no sign of life, officially pronouncing him dead. you turned around and jay was gone. forcing you to run out of the place to go and looking for him. there was no other option you had left at this point, it was either you or him that was going to end up dead tonight.
eventually you’d caught up to him in the woods, finding him at a nearby tree, as if he were waiting for you to come searching for him.
“i have to kill you..” you cut straight to the point, grabbing the swiss knife that was at the bottom of your ankle boot, pointing it towards him.
“not if i spill your pretty little guts all over this ground first,” jay laughs, barely moving an inch. still seeing this as all one big game to him, enjoying the thrill of it all.
“why’re you try to be the hero all of a sudden ? still feeling guilty you couldn’t save all those people who burned to death ? they were all a bunch of worthless scum anyway, if anything, i did them all a favor.” his head tilts as he asks so many questions, attempting to throw you off, knowing that it’d only agitate you further.
you backed away as he kept coming towards you, still pointing the sharp edge at him, “you’re wrong, jay. they all deserved to live yet you took it all away like the sick, inhumane fuck you are.”
“is that really what you think of me ? then why’d you let me take your precious virginity, hm ? can’t you see ? i’m the only person who actually ever gave a shit about you.” the smile on his face was so uncanny, as if it came straight out of a cartoon. he was nothing but pure evil, and he knew it.
you couldn’t bear to listen to him speak anymore, it was giving you a headache, you had to end this quickly. you remember while doing your paranormal digging, that a blade to the heart can kill any demon, now it’s all up to you to finish the job.
“i don’t care how long it takes, you’re going to die by the end of this night.” you stated matter-of-factly, you weren’t going down without a fight, and jay happily accepted your challenge with open arms.
he bursts out into more laughter, but it was anything but normal, it sounded maniacal, as if he were taunting you. “i’d love to see you try, sweetheart.”
he lunged forward to snatch the knife out of your hand, wrestling on the ground with him to try and get it back. you couldn’t let him win, not after all you’ve went through. all you had to do was plunge the weapon into his chest and you’d end this reign of terror once and for all. but once you obtained the knife, positioning it towards his chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
“if you’re going to do it then just get it over with. just do it already.” he bitterly spoke, repeating his words over and over, egging you on in your already frenzied state. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, it was like the minute you had your chance, every particle inside of you froze…
“shut up, shut up, shut up !” you couldn’t even think straight, just shaking your head nonstop while screaming at him to stop talking.
jay could’ve easily overpowered you by now, but it was almost as if he wanted you to do it, willingly ready to die by the hands of you.
“and to think i used to truly believe you were my other half…” you looked at him in disgust, unable to see him as the man who you once knew for practically your whole life. you felt as though you wasted so many of your precious years befriending the most evil, conniving person on the planet.
“silly girl... don’t you remember ? i bit you, so you'll eventually obtain my supernatural powers.” he reminds you of what happened not even an hour before, “our souls are connected now.”
you shook your head in protest, refusing to even entertain that idea, “no… i could never be like you, i’d rather die than be like you..”
jay didn’t seem to be bothered at all by your opposing comments or your lack of compliance. if anything, it only made him want you even more. sure, you may not be cooperating now, but he’ll soon condition you into believing that the only thing you’ll ever need is him.
he cracks a faint smile, “i’m afraid it’s already too late for that, my darling,” he spoke to you softly. not even realizing he’s took the knife from your hands, bringing it down to your thighs, letting the blade run across your delicate skin.
“jay…” you say his name quietly, barely above a whisper. something inside you shifts the minute your gaze meets his, a warm, fuzzy feeling tickling a certain spot within your brain chemistry. you don’t know how to describe it, but your body feels different, so inexplicably different. as if it doesn’t even belong to you anymore.
“you know i’ve always loved you y/n,” jay sweetly coos into your ear, “i just have an awfully morbid way of showing it.”
his words flustered you to no end, feeling guilty for wanting to just give in, all the fight soon evaporating from your body. although you still had so much love for mark, your undying love for jay over the years trumped all of those emotions. the primal desire for him only grew once he’d connect his lips with yours. kissing you tenderly under the glowing moonlight. just you and him, along with the coppery taste of blood on each other’s lips.
you know why you couldn’t kill him. because if you did, you know there’d be no one else in this world who could ever understand you in the same way he does. the two of you shared an eternal bond that could never be erased nor replicated. if you were the kerosene, then he was the match, slow dancing in each other’s flames gracefully.
a made match in heaven ? no, more like a match made in hell.
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lightseoul · 26 days ago
Note
16 please 👀
Congrats btw for your 2K milestone!! 🎉 WAHOO
number 16, coming right up! thank you for playing and for the congratulations, lovely <3 i hope this one makes you laugh!
(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)
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16. "I WANT TO GO HOME TO MY WIFE." (0.7k)
it’s probably by the tenth sigh of the night—not that anyone’s counting—that poor kaminari finally snaps.
“seriously, dude?”
bakugou, who’s seated across from him with kirishima and sero adjacent to the both of them, only lazily raises an eyebrow in question.
at that, the electric hero pouts. “at least try to pretend you’re having fun.”
a few feet ahead of them—the men collectively chose to be seated at the back of the small dive bar despite kaminari’s protests—the stand-up comedian currently doing a set cracks another joke. an undercurrent of laughter flows across the room, but none of the four contribute to that.
“sorry, denki,” sero starts, a not-so-apologetic expression plastered on his face. “i’m with bakugou on this one.”
the slim, ebony-haired man glances at the stage, “the jokes aren’t landing for me either.”
“aww, come on, you guys!” kirishima, the ever-unfailing saint that he is, pipes up with a borderline overcompensating grin. “let’s just stay for a while longer for denki, alright?”
sero shrugs in response, but turns in his seat toward the stage anyway. bakugou, on the other hand, only grumbles before reaching for his phone in his right pocket.
thumbing his password under the table, his fingers click on the messages app, then to his number one favorite contact.
for a second, he debates whether or not to shoot you a text. you were so excited to finally get started on that anime you’ve been meaning to watch, that you almost seemed like you didn’t care that he was leaving you home for the night to hang out with the guys.
biting on his lip, he absentmindedly goes through your last exchange before finally deciding fuck it.
while typing out a well-crafted message, his eyes dart between his screen to his friends then back down again, trying to seem inconspicuous.
the last thing he needs is for the bored tape hero to tease him with that annoying ass shit-eating grin of his.
reading through it one last time, bakugou finally presses the send button.
much to his delight, it doesn’t even take you a minute to reply.
(8:43 PM) baby 🧡: heey! i’m still watching—am on episode 5 now. hbu? aren’t you busy with the boys?
the smile he wasn’t aware he’s been sporting immediately drops when he’s reminded of the predicament he’s in. peering back up at the front, he has to fight the groan that threatens to bubble from his mouth when another performer goes up.
oh, well. at least you’re texting him right now.
he quickly types out his response.
(8:45 PM) me: Busy being fucking tortured. This is the worst night ever.
“yo, bro, who got you smiling like that?”
bakugou whips to glare at the culprit, who’s now wearing the very same shit-eating grin he’s just been thinking about avoiding a few moments ago.
pocketing his phone, bakugou snarls at the man. “shut the fuck up. all that doom-scrolling is rotting your fucking brain.”
“i think you getting the reference says something about you, too, bakubro,” kirishima offers from beside him.
bakugou shoots the redhead a menacing scowl, which the unbreakable hero accepts in stride.
“are you guys even listening?” comes kaminari’s whine.
“sorry, denks,” sero replies, before turning to regard the rest of the group. “i thought we agreed to stop doing these guys’ night outs? none of us are as good at planning get-togethers as mina.”
at that slightest bit of opening, bakugou takes the opportunity and moves to stand up, grabbing his wallet and car keys before inserting them in his back pocket, surprising the three men.
before any of them can say a single word, though, bakugou tries to shrug nonchalantly, muttering his simple explanation.
“what was that?” came sero’s teasing tone.
“i want to go home to my wife, idiot,” bakugou barks before he can stop himself.
at that, kaminari finally throws his hands up in defeat.
kirishima only shrugs himself, “that clicks.”
while the menace snickers. “simp.”
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papercorgiworld · 5 months ago
Text
Listening in and panicking
Mattheo, any Tom, Enzo, Theo, Blaise and Draco
Your boyfriend overhears you say something that makes him believe he’s not the one you planned to be with and panics, with each having their own dramatic reaction.
Thanks for the request! Usually it’s the reader that overhear something, so it was fun to focus on the guys overhearing something, misunderstanding it and panicking about it. I actually almost had this finished last weekend but Draco was being difficult and it took me another week to finish this! So I’m happy it’s here! Sending you all a lot of love and kisses. Happy readings!
Mattheo
That the quidditch game hadn’t gone well was a light way of putting it and Mattheo really needed you to brush through his hair so his muscles would instantly relax. For the past few hours Mattheo had been contemplating whether or not to crash your girls' night. He knew he could be demanding and didn’t want to be the asshole boyfriend who ruined this for you. He was especially afraid of your judgy friends who probably didn’t hold Mattheo in a high regard as a boyfriend. However, he was damn near losing it when he heard the Weasley’s fireworks. “They won a game. Not the cup.” He hissed, throwing away his cigarette and surrendering to the desire to be with you.
He could hear the giggling of girls when he approached Pansy’s dorm and took a deep breath as he raised his hand to give a gentle knock on the door. 
Mattheo halts his movement as he hears your voice, he listens intently but is only able to make out some words. “What?! Someone like Cedric? How did you end up dating Mattheo Riddle of all people?” Pansy’s sharp voice sucks out all of Mattheo’s breath and he’s nailed to the floor as he listens to your voice. He can’t really hear all you’re saying because your voice is soft and further away than Pansy’s, but he does make out one thing. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Matt.” 
Mattheo’s distrusting nature took this entirely the wrong way and he didn’t even bother to listen in further. After those words his feet take him far away from you. His heart aches as he now believes he’s not the guy you want to be with while you are all he wants for the rest of his life. He feels suffocated by the fear of losing you and rushes out of the castle. 
It’s Fred that spots Mattheo’s appalled face first. “Still not over your epic loss.” He snickers, not aware that Mattheo is more than pleased to run into an excuse to punch. “Get off of my brother!” George screeches before taking a swing at Mattheo. Fuck, I forgot there are always two of them.
A soft knock at the door has all the girls narrow their eyes at the door. “Are we expecting anyone else?” Pansy looks disgusted at the thought of some loser girl wanting to join her elite girls’ night, but as she gets up to open the door it’s Theodore who pushes it open just wide enough to stick his head through it. “You better have a damn good excuse Nott.” Pansy crosses her arms with a death glare that would match your boyfriend’s. “Mattheo.” Theo simply states making your heart skip a beat not just at your boyfriend’s name but at the seriousness of Theo’s voice. “That guy is always in some kind of trouble and not an excuse to come in here.” Pansy snaps, far from interested in whatever mess Mattheo had gotten himself into, but you had already gotten up from your spot among the soft pillows. Pansy lets her head fall, not pleased that you were leaving, but you just give her an apologetic smile and pull your hoodie over your head.
Mattheo rolls his eyes when he sees you enter the hospital wing, but he also couldn’t help but return his gaze to you. In short pyjama shorts and an oversized hoodie that Mattheo didn’t recognize was his, you looked so innocent and for a moment he forgot that you broke his heart. You took a seat next to him on the hospital bed, while studying his injuries. “You’re an idiot.” You whisper, but Mattheo just snorts and lets his head fall back into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah well, apologies that I’m no Cedric Diggory.” Mattheo says with a quiet but poisonous ring to it. 
Your eyebrows knit together for a few seconds before it hits you. “Unbelievable.” You chuckle and Mattheo looks up at you with pained and confused eyes. How could you think this was funny when it was heartbreaking to him. 
“You sure are no Cedric Diggory.” The soft laugh that follows your words puts Mattheo at ease. “You’re better than anything I had ever hoped for. So Matt, don’t ever jump to conclusions as ridiculous as the ones circling your head now. I love you and I don’t think I could ever love someone else.” Mattheo stares at you with a clenched jaw and glassy eyes. “I really hope so, because I don’t want to lose you.” His voice is raspy and you give him a soft smile, before leaning in. Your boyfriend is more than pleased to feel your touch, deepening the kiss as soon as your lips brush his. 
Tom
You and Tom had been dating for a while and it was clear that you were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend, but Tom was not one to put labels on relationships especially with all dark things surrounding him. He was losing his patience with Hogwarts and its professor questioning his ambitions. His always stoic and charming attitude had almost been broken by Dumbledore’s intrusive questions. It had upset him  to such a level that he needed you around regardless of your plans.
Agitated and in need of your calming voice Tom is ready to burst in and ruin girls night when he overhears you and your friends banther. “What, him? He’s nothing like Tom?” Some girl squeals. “He’s the exact opposite.” Another laughs. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Tom Riddle.” His eyes go dark the instant he hears you say his name. His tongue moves as his mind rages with absolute fury for you. You of all people, you that he needed more than anyone. He wasn’t even your first choice. Suddenly all your friends in the room faint and you jump up, immediately checking for a pulse. It’s in that silent moment of relief when you realise that your friends are just asleep that you hear footsteps outside.
You swing the door open with your wand ready in hand, but when you spot your boyfriend you relax. “You can’t just hex people.” You sigh, you tense up a bit when Tom turns to face you with emotionless eyes. “I can, I'm a wizard.” You knew better than to mess with him when he was as cold as he was now. “What’s going on?” You calmly ask, walking towards him. “Explain to me what you meant with ‘someone like Tom Riddle’?” A featherlight huff of air escapes your lips as you meet his eyes, you can’t keep a smile from tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Someone who hexes four people to sleep because he’ll take any excuse to believe that he is unloved, rather than listen to the sentence as a whole. I fell in love with you Tom Riddle and I don’t intend to fall out of love with you.” Your boyfriend feels almost attacked by your words. You love me? “You mean love as in the big sense of the word?” Tom’s voice is hesitant, failing to sound demanding or charming. “Tom, the word love has no small sense of the word. It’s a word that’s always true and always full of emotion.” 
“Should I wake up your friends?” Tom offers, feeling a bit embarrassed at how he overreacted. You chuckle and walk over to him and he’s happy to wrap his arms around you as you think over his offer. “Nah, I much rather spend the night with you.” His lips search yours for a tender kiss. I love you too.
Enzo
Your boyfriend was insulted when you picked Pansy over him. We could be having a bath together, but no girls’ night. I need a new girlfriend… Who am I kidding, I need just mine asap. Ignoring his friends warnings about how dangerous Pansy could be when someone interrupted her gossip nights, Enzo basically ran to Pansy’s dorm, like he needed you for urgent matters. Then again, in Enzo’s book intimate quality time with you was always an urgent matter. He needed you and he would have you now. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Enz.” Enzo’s happy puppy face falss the second he recognises it was you talking. 
The next morning an unwashed, unshaven, not properly dressed Enzo is picking at his food when you jump in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He lets you, but he doesn’t react and you frown, looking over at his friends you see them raise their shoulders. Odd. You shuffle between him and Blaise and turn to face your boyfriend. “Talk to me Enz?” “Not hungry.” He states and without even giving you one look he gets up from the table and leaves. You are absolutely frozen in your seat at what had just happened. “What did you do?” Mattheo asks, unable to hide his curiosity and amusement. No one had ever seen Enzo like this so everyone at the table was dying to know what had happened, but you didn’t have a clue. 
You take breakfast on the go and follow your boyfriend. Quickly stuffing your mouth as you head for his room. You enter and see him lying on his bed with his back turned towards you. “Enz, talk to me, what’s wrong?” You get no response except for a lazy shrug so you decide to move closer and sit by his side. As soon as you do so he turns around so again his back is facing towards you. At this point you were getting slightly annoyed with his behaviour. “Enz-” “Just break up with me already!” Enzo snaps and he jumps up heading for the door.
When you see him angrily swing open the door you snap. “Sit your ass down, Berkshire!” Enzo stops in his tracks and for a second no one moves, not you, not Enzo, not the people in the slytherin common room who were absolutely terrified of what was about to go down. Enzo closes the door and turns to face you. You immediately notice his tired eyes and you walk over to him. “Enz-” Your soft voice breaks your boyfriend’s stubborn attitude. “I’m nothing like the type of guy you wanted… you just accidentally ended up with me.” Your eyebrows knit together and Enzo explains himself further. “I overheard you and your friends talk last night, I wasn’t listening in or anything, I just missed you.” His voice sounds painfully broken and your grab his hands meet his eyes with a sincerity. “I didn’t accidentally end up with you. You charmed me. You spend days flirting your way into my life, my head and my bed… You made me fall in love with you and oh boy did I fall for you, Enzo Berkshire, you and all your charm. Did first year me think to ever end up with you? No. Do I ever want anyone else? No! You are the one, Enzo.” A small smirk tugs on his lips as he can’t hide his happiness anymore. “I’m the one?” Your boyfriend questions sheepishly and you nod, making him smile brightly. “I’m the one.” He repeats, eyebrows wiggling, pleased with that new piece of information. 
Theo
Stealing you away from a girls night wouldn’t be easy, but Theodore had come prepared. He hated himself for being this needy and this cheesy, but he flicked away his cigarette anyways and picked up a small box filled with your favourite snacks. His friends and everyone else at Hogwarts were starting to see that the tough guy act that Theodore had been keeping up for years was cracking as his softer side was becoming more and more visible everyday all because of you, the love of his life. Walking towards Pansy’s dorm a small smile creeps up your boyfriend’s lips as he stares at the snacks in his hands. Salazar, I’m whipped for this girl and I don’t even mind. Your voice interrupts his thoughts and his eyes lift to the door in front of him. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Theo.” Pansy snickers “Yeah, he’s nothing like the guy you just described. So weird you fell for him.” You chuckle at Pansy’s words. “Silly, I know.” The word silly rings in Theodore’s mind as he speedwalks away. 
“I so want to marry him.” You laugh and continue dreaming out loud. “He would be such a sweet and sexy husband… oh and omg he would be the greatest dad to our kids. I just know he’ll be so invested with their dreams and hobbies.” You roll on your back and stare up at the ceiling, when you sigh in a dreamy way Pansy smashes a pillow in your face. “Hello! Girls night, stop dreaming about your boyfriend… and instead tell us nasty sex stories or something.” Everyone burst out laughing and you spend the night not having a clue that in Theodore’s mind you two were done.
The next morning you are still unaware of your break up and instead fall in love even more when you find a box filled with your favourite snacks outside of Pansy’s dorm. “That’s just disgustingly adorable.” Pansy jokes as you walk in the direction of the great hall. “Husband material.” You sing and smile at Pansy. However, you stop in your tracks when you spot Theo lazily hanging over some girl's shoulder joking with her about something. He notices you and you want to smile, but he instantly looks away making you frown. You and Pansy walk over to him, but your heart already knows something is wrong. When you stand beside him Theodore reluctantly pulls his attention away from the pretty girl at the table to give you an agitated look. “Look (y/n), I heard you last night, I’m not the guy you planned on ending up with and I don’t mind, but let’s not waste any more time on this relationship and just go our own way.” You stand there absolutely perplexed and you’re absolutely horrified to hear some girls giggling at the scene in front of them. When you finally open your mouth Theo doesn’t even let you speak. “It’s been fun, but really I’m busy here.” 
Never had anyone stomped on your heart and humiliated you like this. With teary eyes you turn around and rush out of the great hall, only to hear Ron hushed voice, “That was brutal.”, followed by loud smack, probably Hermoine. 
Theodore didn’t even look as you walked away, but Pansy’s silent but demanding presence forces him to again look away from the girl he’s trying to play. When Theo looks up Pansy wastes no time. “You absolute baboon!” There’s a silence as she just looks at him like he’s vermin. “First of all you don’t eavesdrop.” She smacks him on his arm. “Secondly, you missed out on the part where she said she wants to marry you.” Smacks him again. “Contrary to her opinion, I think you would be a shit dad considering you are a god awful boyfriend.” Smacks him even harder. “Go apologise!” “But she said-” “Apologise!” Pansy’s shriek horrified everyone in the great hall, but Theodore just stood there confused. He had been so convinced you didn’t really want him, you had just fallen for him but it was never supposed to last and now Pansy’s telling him that you want the same as him, marriage and a life together.
Slowly and slightly terrified Theo opens the door to your room. He’s immediately met with the sound of your sobs and when he spots your figure curled up into a ball his heart breaks even harder than it had done yesterday. You turn around expecting to see Pansy, but you’re shocked to see an apologetic looking Theodore slowly walking towards you. “No!” You snap at him and get up. “Get out!” You yell and throw a pillow at his head. “Please listen, I made a mistake.” You grab the table lamp on your night stand. “Yes, you did by coming here!” He’s quick to grab your hand and keep you from smashing the lamp on his head. “Don’t. You love this lamp.” You girth your teeth, of course Theodore knows you love that lamp, he knows everything about you. You start sobbing again and Theo struggles to find words so he just gets to his knees. “It was a misunderstanding. I thought I was just a fling to you and it broke my heart… and I did a dumb thing.” Your eyes go wide. “A fling? You thought you were a fling?” You can’t believe your dumb ass boyfriend. Theodore takes your hand in his and kisses it softly. “Please forgive me.” He begs in a soft voice. You look at him sitting on his knees, holding your hand, looking lost. “Please.” He urges and you start laughing. “There are no words to describe you, Theodore Nott.” Theo gets up and smiles. “How about future husband? Does that describe me?” He pulls you closer and a cheeky smile forms on his lips. You loved him, but forced your smile into a line. “I’m still mad.” You state and your boyfriend’s confidence fades. “Obviously. Just let me make this up to you.” You better!
Blaise
“I dare you.” M attheo whispered near Blaise’s ear for the millionth time. “Still not playing.” Blaise sighs and Mattheo growls in annoyance. “Why?” Blaise looks up from his book. “I’m not ruining my girlfriend’s girl’s night because you want me to spy on your crush… I also don’t believe they would even let me stay.” Mattheo huffs. “I don’t have a crush, it’s research, and you should at least try to get in there.” Blaise shakes his head no. “I’ll do your homework.” Mattheo offers. “I’ll do it better.” Blaise sings, making Theo chuckle. “I’ll clean your side of the dorm.” Blaise looks up at Mattheo. “Have you cleaned a thing in your life?” Mattheo thinks about it and quickly realises that he needs to think of a different offer. “I’ll shut up for at least 24h hours if you try to get in.” “Oh, please Blaise, do me a favour and just go, so Matt will be silent.” Blaise sighs and gets up. “Fine, I’ll take one for the team.” Draco and Theo both cheer, making Mattheo frown.
As Blaise approaches Pansy’s dorm he hears several girls snicker and followed by lots of chatter that he can’t make out, until he’s right in front of the door. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Blaise.” Without a second though Blaise turns on his heels and walks back to his friends. Once there his friends all look up to see his horrified expectation. “You okay mate?” Mattheo asks worriedly and Theodore puts his book down to listen, but Blaise can’t form an answer. What does that mean? Why does she wonder about how she ended up with me? 
Blaise just stares in front of him like he was solving some physics problem and not being very successful. Draco takes a piece of parchment from his study notes and forms it into a ball of paper before throwing it at Blaise who seems to wake up from his thoughts and again turn on his heels. “Odd.” Theodore says and Draco shrugs, but they all continue with their business. 
Blaise is back at Pansy’s door and swings it open this time, making all your friends scream for a second. “What the hell, Zabini!” Pansy snaps. “Why do you wonder how you ended up falling in love with someone like me?” Blaise’s eyes focus on you. “What does that mean, someone like me? You mean my colour, my nerdiness, sporty side, or that I’m a bad boy type of guy? And more importantly, are we done? I mean, I would like to know if you’re breaking up with me.” Pansy crosses her arms and groans, dropping her head before snapping at Blaise. “Did she not just say that she fell in love with you! Seriously, if you eavesdrop, at least do it right!” 
“I’m not breaking up with you!” Blaise sighs in relief and you get up from your seat. Blaise looks around and feels a bit embarrassed when he notices all your friends saw his moment of panic. “And what I meant with someone like you was someone as cool and composed as you… but I guess that facade just fell.” Blaise chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess I panicked for a moment, but that was only because I thought you were going to break up with me. Now I’m cool again.” You  smile and lick your lips. “It was kinda sexy.” You whisper and his hands make their way to your hips as you kiss him. 
“Ew! Get that dude out of my girl’s night!” Pansy expresses her annoyances making you both smile into the kiss. 
Draco
“Girls like it when you interrupt their little parties and show them love in front of all their friends.” Enzo frowns at Draco’s statement. “Your girl might like it but Pansy will not.” Draco huffs and straightens his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of her.” This false play of bravery makes Enzo snort. “Even Matt is scared of Pansy and his father is the dark lord.” Enzo argues, but Draco just waves his arguments away and heads for Pansy’s dorm. 
“The guy you describe is nothing like Draco!” Pansy squeals, shocked by the person you had just described. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder how I ended up falling in love with someone like Malfoy.” You say rather serious. Draco considers whether to continue listening in, but his ego is too bruised. I’m not the kind of guy she wanted… Did she start dating me out of pity or something…
After a few seconds Enzo sees Draco return, clearly upset. “Told you, Pansy’s scaryyy.” Enzo sings as Draco just speedwalks past him and Theodore lounging in the common room. Both Slytherins shrug, but make no move to check on Draco. 
The next morning you joyfully walk, almost skip, to your boyfriend who is rather depressingly resting his head in hand as he stares endlessly in front of him. “Bad night?” You ask in a gentle whisper and his eyes move to yours, but he doesn’t answer, only the corners of his mouth twitch in response. The heartbrokenness is obvious in his eyes and your joy fades away as you sit beside him. “Who is he?” You almost hurt yourself trying to figure out who Draco is asking about. “The guy you actually like?” You raise your eyebrows and his absurd question. “Oh that guy, total moron… YOU! You dummy! I like you, you know that.” You laugh at Draco’s silliness but he doesn’t even smile so after a few seconds your smile fades as well. “I heard you talk yesterday… about this other guy… that’s nothing like me.” There’s a long silence as it takes you a moment to figure out what your boyfriend is talking about. When you do, you immediately want to assure him, but interrupts you before you get the chance. “I just need to know if I still have a chance with you…” His eyes look lifeless as he confesses his fear of losing you and you. 
You sit up straight and cup his cheeks. “Draco Malfoy, I love YOU. There is no other guy! You hear me?” Even though you’re holding his face in your hands he shakes no. “You said-” You sigh. “Draco, before I came to Hogwarts I had a crush on another guy who was nothing like you, but as soon as I met your dumb ass I thought that has to be the love of my life… weird but true.” Draco stares deep into your eyes in an attempt to check if you’re telling the truth. “So you’re not dumping for some tanned six pack bodybuilder type?” You laugh out loud and Enzo and Mattheo raise their eyebrows as they approach you. “Draco is an idiot.” You say smiling. “I could have told you that before you started dating.” Mattheo jokes sitting down opposite of Draco. “Looking for a new boyfriend?” Enzo quips, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “I’m single and ready to mingle.” Draco throws a pancake at Enzo who dodges it elegantly. “Don’t even think about it Enzo! I’m an idiot but not that big an idiot to let her go.” You smile at your boyfriend and he kisses you gently. 
2K notes · View notes
ovaryacted · 3 months ago
Text
GUARD DOG
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─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x fem! reader || WC: 5.0k
SYNOPSIS: On another one of your joint club outings with Wade, your boyfriend Logan stands by to make sure you enjoy your night. Once you both arrive at your apartment, he tends to your needs and helps you relax.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Established Relationship. Age gap implied [Logan is his canon age, Reader is mid to late 20's]. Alcohol consumption. Kissing. Unprotected P in V. Shower sex. Fingering (f receiving). Manhandling. Biting/Marking Kink. Size Kink if you squint. Mutual fantasies of public sex. Worst!/Variant! Logan Howlett. Grumpy! Logan in public, soft! Logan in private. Wade is the third wheel who drinks for fun but can't get drunk (obvi). Descriptions of the reader's clothing (mini skirt & skimpy top). Reader is shorter than Logan in heels. Logan can pick the reader up.
A/N: Lord this was a pain in the ass to write for absolutely no reason, but I am glad it's done. Big shoutouts and thank yous to @ozarkthedog and @pedgito for reading this over and encouraging me. And also thank you to @zloshy and @studioghibelli for holding my hand and helping me out with the brainstorming process. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy! <3
NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3
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To this day, Logan doesn’t know why he still puts up with Wade’s shit or agrees to his antics. But he doesn’t mind doing it so long as it keeps his eccentric friend off his back and keeps you happy.
The club he was brought to was loud, the air thick with the pungent stench of weed, and he swears he could distinctly sniff out cocaine in the bathrooms, irritating his nose. Bright strobe lights strained his vision, and the obnoxious pop music vibrating through the walls was anything but pleasing to his sensitive ears. Thankfully, the bar had Jack Daniels on the shelf, enough to do the job and keep himself busy.
He raises his arm to lean against the bar, sipping away at his fourth cup of whiskey, knowing that the buzz he feels will go away as quickly as it hits him. Adept eyes scanned the club, landing on your figure as you danced to the current song.
Logan admired the sway of your hips, the mini skirt you wore riding up your thighs with every pop and swivel. The low-cut top you paired it with shifted when your arms rose to the beat change, the open back showing more than enough skin to leave to the imagination. He could taste the light sheen of sweat from your neck at a distance, amplifying your natural pheromones that elevated the perfume you sprayed on earlier.
He did what he did best. He watched. Even with his dominating presence, he was hyper-aware of the other men who stood by prowling like hawks, stalking their prey and waiting for the best moment to attack. Wade was enough to keep you safe during your joint club outings, but now that he was with you, Logan ensured you made it home every night.
You were smart and vigilant, always were before you met him. But Logan was familiar with the instinctive behavior of men, especially men like him. Ill-tempered. Selfish. Prone to arguments and have an affinity to attract trouble. He knows what they were all thinking, creating mental checklists of what tricks they’d use to guarantee you went home with them instead. Countless fantasies of their hands feeling you up, touching you in ways that Logan was allowed to, in a way only he could.
His heart thumped in his ribs at the thought. The innate possession he felt towards you flared as he impatiently wiped his hand over the dark denim of his jeans, ignoring the growing itch to claw the next fucker that thought about coming within six feet of you.
You could hold your own; you’ve told him more than enough times that he didn’t need to stand by and monitor your every move. Yet he does it without hesitation, refusing to give anyone else a chance to breathe you in or get close enough to touch what was his. 
Wade waltzes to the bar and orders another martini, glancing at Logan and contorting his neck to peek at you dancing with a blissful smile.
“Having fun, Wolvie?” he asks, grin widening as his lips envelop the thin straw in his drink, slurping it up like a refreshing cup of water. 
“You know the answer to that,” Logan mutters, finishing the rest of his amber liquid in one gulp before tapping the cup on the bar countertop and asking for a refill. The bartender flashes him a look of concern, receiving a flick of Wade’s hand and topping off the glass.
“You’re five drinks in. Quit being so fucking grumpy,” Wade sneers, detecting someone walking in their direction. “Now flip that frown upside down, Logie bear. Our girl is coming over, and I don’t need you getting your panties in a twist because you’re moody.”
Logan rolled his eyes before spotting you striding to him, standing in front of the burly man with a hazy smile. He noticed the multitude of heads that turned to follow your direction, tracking you with every step you took toward the deviant pair. A low whistle seized his attention, Logan’s head rapidly spun at the sound to find its source and nip it in the bud. The growl settling in the back of his throat simmered down once your soft hand touched his chest, grounding him to you.
“Hey, old man.” Even in heels, you still couldn’t reach him face-to-face, smirking when his thick arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer. “Enjoyed the show?”
“The music in here fucking sucks, but I can’t complain too much,” Logan’s lips hovered over the shell of your ear, lowering his voice as he spoke. “You were my favorite part.”
“Oh, you weren’t looking at the girl in the cocktail dress? I don’t know, her dress was real short.” The corner of his mouth curled up, challenging your statement that feigned any truth. Giggling, you clutched his bicep, the alcohol loosening your tongue to speak more bluntly. You pivoted to spot Wade, who watched you both from afar in animated shock.
“Problem?”
“Sorry, honey. I just can’t stand seeing the two of you be all touchy-feely in front of me. It’s very disturbing.” Wade finished his martini, ordering a margarita and explicitly asking for a tiny umbrella. “I hate that you took my spot. Creeping in like a slut into a happy home and snatching my man away.”
Ever since Wade had introduced you to Logan almost a year ago, it had been an instant connection he got front-row seats to witness. He was excited when he finally compelled Logan to go to the club you both frequented, recalling how he raked his eyes over you when you weren’t looking. It was only a matter of time before you left the club with Logan one night, and Wade met him at the front door the following day like a disappointed parent acknowledging his walk of shame. 
All jokes aside, considering the pair he just unleashed into the world, he would believe himself to be the city’s most qualified and successful cupid.
“Can’t call me a homewrecker if there was no home to wreck, sweetie,” you shrugged, hearing Logan’s dry chuckle.
“Sure, whatever. But you should be thanking me, you know? You get to have those big, meaty hands on you all the time. Not to mention you get to fuck him and actually see his d-”
“Wilson.” Logan’s voice cut him off, causing Wade to murmur under his breath. You fronted the brunette, messing with the collar of his leather jacket.
“Don’t be mean to him. He’s right. I do have the happy privilege of fucking you all the time.” Your glossy lips hypnotized Logan, his hand kneading your rear as he caught your breathless laugh again. He’ll never fully admit it, but he’s always loved your lack of filter when you had a little bit to drink. You were funny and engaging without needing the extra boost, but something about you being openly vulgar made his blood flow south.
“That you do.” His ego blazes inside him, leaning forward to kiss you in the club for the first time that night.
You happily accepted it with a pleased hum, tasting the Jack he’d been drinking and exchanging the flavor of vodka still on your tongue. Your fingers clutched at his jacket, body pulsing with need as the alcohol in your system beelined straight to your clit. Audible gagging noises pushed you to draw away from Logan, your drunken sight landing on the culprit.
“Oh, am I interrupting you guys? I told you to give me a PDA warning next time before you start getting freaky, otherwise I’m joining,” Wade taunted, getting a scoff from you and an irritated grunt from his friend.
“How about we share another drink? Will you forgive me then, Wadey?” You flapped your lashes at him, his wrinkly skin creasing to mimic your gleeful appearance.
“Fine, but only because you know how to sweet talk me. Tequila?” Your optimistic nod motivated him to order another round of shots for the two of you to down. You felt a gentle squeeze on your arm, meeting Logan’s gaze and silent questioning. Can you handle drinking more?
“Just a few more, and we’ll go, okay?” You stroked his chin, kissing the corner of his jaw in reassurance. He asked to test your senses, only intervening to stop if you were too far gone to speak to him. Unlike him, he wants you to keep your liver intact.
“Alright. But the second he starts offering you shit to snort, we’re leaving.”
“I would do no such thing!” Wade dramatically reacts, offering two tequila shots while holding some of his own. “Besides, I don’t need our precious darling over here fucking up her pretty nose. She needs that thing to smell your bullshit from a mile away.”
With another laugh, you swallowed the shot of clear liquid, inhaling a hiss and consuming the next, sucking on the lime to reset your tastebuds. Your body warmed with a buzz from the drink, an electric shock coursing through your veins as it roused you. 
“C’mon, sugarplum, you owe me a dance.” You didn’t have time to waste as Wade dragged you to the dance floor, throwing Logan a flirty wave and joining your mutual friend. The Wolverine returned to his position, manning his post and sipping on the remaining liquid in his glass. He kept tallies on the wandering eyes that gravitate to you, fighting the urge to rip out every single one.
He’ll keep the peace for your sake. You were already his, you’ve been his ever since you took him home and made him stay the night. What more did he have to prove?
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It was nearing two in the morning when you finally decided to call it a night. By now, the heels on your feet started slipping, and your footing grew unsteady when you attempted to walk to the bathroom. You held your bearings long enough for Logan to call a cab home after buying some greasy food for you to eat, shooing Wade once he said he was stopping by Vanessa’s.
Logan’s touch was constant the entire way home, skimming your thigh and lower back in the cab, responding to every one of your little mumbles to keep you awake until you arrived at your apartment. Getting you out of the backseat was another hassle he was familiar with, aiding you to stand up straight without accidentally exposing yourself. The best solution he came up with was carrying you inside, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he held you steady and trekked inside the apartment complex.
He didn’t mind the faint squeezes of your arms or the clenches of your thighs around his waist. You were calm, safe, and happy, mindlessly humming in the crook of his neck as he eased his way through the front door. Strong arms entrapped you as the familiar walls of your bedroom filled your vision, Logan placing you on the edge of your bed with a huff of breath.
“I’m gonna get you a cup of water. Alright?” Logan’s hazel eyes met yours, taking in your feeble nod.
“Okay,” voice light and airy, you patiently waited for Logan to return as promised. Within a minute, he had a tall glass of cold water in his hand, a few ice cubes floating at the top.
“Open up. Need you to drink some of this for me.” Heeding his command, you sipped the refreshing beverage, soothing your parched throat. You got halfway down the glass before he drew the cup away, placing it on the bedside table for later.
“Let’s get these heels off now,” Logan suggested next, descending to his knees and bending his leg to raise your foot on his thigh, messing with the straps tied to your ankles.
“Yes, please. They’re fucking killing me.”
He chuckled as you wiggled your foot at him, allowing his thick fingers to unclasp the buckle that held your heels together. Peeling one of the shoes off and dropping it to the floor, he loosened the other, the heel falling to the ground with an audible thud.
Strong hands held your right foot by the ankle and gently twisted it, stretching the tendon after a long night out and doing the same to the left. You whizzed contently at the touch, the devoted rubs of his thumbs and forefingers massaging your feet after hours of dancing never failed to make you feel better. Before you started dating him, you underestimated Logan’s capacity to be affectionate, but he eventually got the hang of things once your relationship grew more steady. 
Sure, he had been alive a long time, you got that warning from Wade prior to meeting Logan. But once you cracked through that tough exterior, you developed a soft spot for the man buried under all that trauma.
“Always so nice to me yet grumpy with everyone else,” you said, running a hand through his hair as he stayed on his knees.
“You’re saying you don’t like special treatment?” he teased, the look in his eye heating your belly. He caressed your shin, drawing circles over your skin as you watched him.
“Never said that. Like it too much sometimes,” he stood up, kissing the top of your head and walking to the bathroom to wash his hands.
“Let’s take those clothes off and get you in something less skimpy.”
“Already? You didn’t tell me anything about my skimpy outfit. Thought you liked it…” you feigned a pout, and Logan raised a curious eyebrow.
“You look good, you always do. I told you that before we left.” He loomed over you, a shiver rushing down your spine when his musk surrounded you. His hands were at either side of your hips, palms resting on the mattress as he observed you.
“I like it when you get all dolled up for me.” One of his knuckles moved to graze your bare forearm, the hair on your skin rising from the goosebumps that followed. “Hate that everyone else gets to look, though.”
“You did good tonight. Didn’t claw anybody in the ribs.” You were only half joking, but you knew it wasn’t such a farfetched idea for him to do just that. All it took was one guy to come too close, and Logan’s knuckles were splitting to unsheath the blades embedded between them.
“Trust me, I was thinking it.”
“I know you were. Still happy you didn’t, so thank you for that.” You held his cheek and tenderly kissed him. “Now take my clothes off.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Logan tugged your mini skirt down your legs, tossing it to the floor. Your top was next, lifting your arms so he could pull it up from your torso, leaving your top half bare. He leaned back to take you in, raking his eyes over your uncovered figure. You were only clad in the lace black thong he noticed earlier when you were getting dressed, the thin piece of fabric doing nothing to conceal what he knew lay underneath.
“You’re staring again.” Your voice brought him to reality, a dry hum being his response.
“You don’t usually complain when I do,” he noted, growing more cocky at the uptick of the subdued tension between you.
“Because I like it when you look at me, smartass.” You held him by the fabric of the white tee hiding under his jacket, hands roaming over the expanse of his chest and stomach, messing with the metal of his belt buckle.
“Seems like you want something…” Logan hungrily watched as your legs spread wider to accommodate for his thicker ones between them, lingering to pounce on you.
“Want you to fuck me.” A rich groan tumbled out of Logan when you yanked him down for a kiss, chasing his tongue with your own and biting his bottom lip. His large hands skate over your thighs, textured fingers pinching your hip to keep you in place. Pulling his head away, he exhaled out of his nose, lightly grazing the tip of it against yours.
“Not until we shower. You smell like Wade and tequila.” He walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, messing with the knobs to get the searing temperature you liked and coming to capture your dumbfounded expression.
“Are you fucking serious?” You shouldn’t be surprised. Though you think he was just finding more ways to get you to sober up.
“Very. I don’t need you smelling like him in bed. I want you to smell like you.”
Rising to your feet, you entered the bathroom and bent down to peel your thong off. Holding the last piece of clothing by the tip of your finger, you flung it to Logan, swaying your hips with an added flare as you stepped under the showerhead. The steaming water hit your aching body, comforting your sore legs from standing on an arch for so long. 
You heard shuffling from the other side of the glass barrier, enjoying the feel of the scalding spray as burly arms encircled your midriff, holding you loosely by the waist. Turning to face Logan, he eyed you with a softness reserved only when you were alone, your love worming its way into his cold heart and chipping away at the frozen bits and pieces over time.
“I’m surprised you haven’t melted yet from how hot this water is,” Logan jested, pressing yourself closer and gliding your fingers over his torso.
“You’ll get used to it,” you brushed his comment off, his rough fingertips coasting down your back, much softer than how he handled you in the club. “You’re the one that likes showering with me anyway.”
“Course I do, but I’ll never know how you tolerate this. You sure you aren’t the mutant here?” You lightly slapped his sternum, petting his skin with a shake of your head.
Logan maintained the scorching temperature of the shower stream as he held your chin with his forefinger and thumb, bending forward to kiss you, slow and passionate as it always was. You reached for his broad shoulders, opening your mouth to welcome his tongue, the muscle curling around yours with ease.
Maneuvering to pin you to the tiled wall, your hands ran up to the nape of his neck, driving your fingers through his wet hair as you sought more of his touch. Logan parted from you, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and neck, biting at the skin. Your breathing grew more sporadic, desire surging through you and flourishing between your thighs.
“Logan, please,” you were already begging for more, and he hadn’t done anything prevalent yet. Even with the alcohol slowly ebbing away, your arousal intensified, and a desperate craving for his attention overwhelmed you.
“What do you need? Tell me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his tongue rolling down to your clavicle, sucking a mark into the side of your neck for you to uncover in the morning.
“Need you to touch me.” Unabashedly, you took one of his hands by the wrist, spreading your thighs to position it where you needed him most. His fingers quickly found your pussy, drenched and crying out for his touch. The tips of his pointer and middle fingers drifted up to your sensitive nub, twitching under the initial rubs he delivered.
“Yeah? Need me to make you feel good, sugar?” Logan’s ego continued to ascend as he observed the expressions on your face, your eyebrows furrowing when his digits plunged into your aching hole.
“Been like this for a while, hm?” The smooth timbre of his voice spurred you on, directing his free hand to hold the bottom of your thigh, raising it to his hip and keeping it in place.
“Since you kissed me in the club.” Your confession fell over his lips, nails digging into his shoulder blades, leaving crescent indents in their wake. “Wanted you to fuck me in the bathroom.”
A deep moan rumbled in Logan’s chest at your words, crooking his fingers into that spot tucked at the roof of your entrance. You whined loudly at the touch, tossing your head back against the tile behind you and clenching hard around his thick digits.
“Next time. All you gotta do is bring me there, and I’ll fuck you over the sink.”
You couldn’t help but envision what it would be like to follow through on Logan’s proposal. How he’d pursue the imprint of your natural scent, mixing in with the aroma of your perfume that emanated off of you in waves. His lips would make a path over your shoulder and neck, leaving teeth marks for the club members to see after he was done with you. His fingers would wrap around your throat as he fucked you against the counter of the bathroom sink, forcing you to look at your reflection as you took him from behind.
Mascara streaked down your cheeks in dark smudges, your lip gloss fading and leaving a ring on the base of his cock from when you sucked him off, his cum dribbling down your thighs while he grabs your torn underwear and stuffs them into his pocket. And once you’ve both had your fun, you’d take his hand and stroll out of the bathroom with a smile, proudly flaunting Logan’s claim for everyone to acknowledge who you belonged to.
He was focused on the dives of his fingers inside your cunt, concentrated pulses to your g-spot and sneakily adding his thumb to the mix to press into your clit. Your half-lidded eyes glanced at him, the tell-tale signs of your upcoming orgasm creeping up and building in your gut. Logan could sense it too, the increase in your heart rate and the pulsing of your walls signaled that you were getting close, desperately seeking that release he could give you.
“I know you’re close.” He picked up the pace of his fingers, punctuating his thrusts to work in a third digit to stretch you out properly, the circles on your bundle of nerves becoming relentless. “Come for me, darlin’. C’mon, let me feel it.”
Trained like a dog to obey his command, your climax hit you with force, the strained rope of tension snapping and shooting relief up your spine. Gripping at the nape of his neck, the moan you emitted resounded through the bathroom as your thighs quivered from Logan’s ministrations. The slick walls of your pussy convulsed around him, giving you a few more pumps with his fingers before he took them out, watching in a daze as he licked them to taste your slick with a satisfied grumble.
“Always taste so damn sweet,” Logan remarked, letting you taste yourself on his tongue with another kiss. The hard length of his cock twitched over your lower belly, the ache of being empty overwhelming your senses.
“You can take a little more right, princess?” It was a genuine question, analyzing your energy levels after a long night out. But you craved to feel Logan the best way you knew how, nodding your head at the thought of feeling him deep inside where he belonged.
“Want you, please,” you implored, large hands grabbing the underside of your thighs to lift you from the ground, Logan’s strong hold keeping you upright on the wall. The tip of his cock bumped against your opening, your arms wrapping around his neck as he positioned himself.
“Hold on to me.” You did as he said, mewling in pleasure as he sank into your waiting cunt.
You welcomed him without resistance, his legs and forearms flexing to hold you up as he drove his hips forward until he was down to the hilt. A whimper wormed its way out of your mouth once Logan was tucked snug inside you, the tip of him hitting depths only he could reach. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of him, legs wound tighter as you adjusted to him.
“That’s it. Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Logan confirmed with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing you in. He concentrated on the way your wet heat enveloped him so well, pussy molded to take him like that was your purpose.
Leaning more into your embrace, he began to move, shifting his hips to dive into you just the way you liked. Deep and even thrusts sent you reeling into ecstasy, your toes coiling as he persisted in his consistent pistoning.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried out at his movements, the upright position Logan had you in propelled the tip of his cock to hit the roof of your entrance with rehearsed accuracy. Your clit came in contact with the hair at the base of his length, the delicious friction adding to the amplified sensations.
“Feel so good. Fucking warm and wet. Shit.” He rambled against your throat, both of his big hands cupping your ass and keeping you secure as he fucked up into you.
Logan used his strength to bounce you on top of him in time with his jabs, heavy balls smacking into you as he picked up the pace and chased his release. You tightened again, nails biting into the taut skin of his shoulders and raking down, drawing a noisy groan out of the man from the pain. His skin reddened with the streaks you left behind, mending together as his regenerative powers healed him in seconds, removing any evidence of your marks.
“Logan, need it, need you. Please.” He understood what you were asking for, the pounding of his hips getting sloppier on your instruction. “Want you to fill me up…”
“Cum again for me and I will. Fill your pussy up the way you need.”
He wasn’t asking. Your deft fingers went up to his hair and gave him a harsh yank, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, meshing your mouth with his. Logan panted a breath and followed with a hiss at the slight ache, the urge to fill you up awakening the most primal parts of him.
Your climax washed over you abruptly, mouth positioned in a silent scream as you unravel underneath Logan. He whispered words of praise in your ear, prolonging your orgasm for as long as he could. Your walls flexed and spasmed around him, soft cries morphing into helpless whimpers with every fierce buck of his wide hips. Molten pleasure surged down his back, and his hands sought purchase on your body, squeezing hard enough to bruise. 
“Fuck,” Logan rasped into your skin, stifling his growl with a sharp bite to your neck. The blunt ends of his teeth dug into you, hard enough to tear at your flesh that bloomed into bright red and will fade to purple.
With a few more lunges, he burrowed himself deep inside, painting your walls with his spend and claiming you like he always has. Your legs tensed around his abdomen, making sure to keep him safely tucked and not let a single drop go to waste. You slumped against him, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder as he littered soft kisses over the marks he left behind in a muted apology. 
“Better now?” he asked, carefully bringing you to stand on the ground, keeping his hold on your hips in case your wobbly legs gave out.
“Mhm. Much better.” You nodded, offering him a kiss and enjoying the aftermath of your respective highs. The carnal appetite you felt earlier dimmed down to manageable levels now that you got what you wanted.
“Good,” Logan reciprocated your delicate kisses, doing what he could to calm and prep you for bed. He knows you could theoretically go for another round, but your exhaustion was palpable. He’d have to make up for it in the morning.
He took your loofah and body wash, pouring the liquid over the net fabric and scrubbing at your figure. He washed you meticulously, rinsing off the suds, and you returned the favor by cleansing him too. Your scents interlaced together as you washed each other, a smile sneaking up on Logan’s face at the realization.
After the shower, Logan did the honors of drying you off, rubbing you down with lotion, and grabbing a baggy dark T-shirt to dress you in. You brushed your teeth as he searched for his sweatpants, alternating between using the sink until you were both ready to end your night.
You eased into the mattress first, tugging the duvet to the side for Logan to follow you and lay on his back. Instinctively, you cuddled into his side once he made room for you, throwing an arm across his chest and lifting your leg to bend comfortably over his thigh.
“You’re gonna make me breakfast, right?” you questioned sleepily over his shoulder, familiar with the post-coitus routine he established in your relationship. In a few hours, you’ll find him making pancakes in the kitchen, or he’ll be under the sheets between your legs again. Either way, it’ll be a good start to your day so long as he’s the first thing you see when the sun beams through the bedroom window.
“I’ll think about it.” Jabbing at his ribs in mock retaliation, you closed your eyes and listened to the distant sounds of the city filling the room, soothing you to sleep.
“Love you, baby. “ You’ll doze off before you hear his reply, nuzzling into his body and chasing the stability and comfort of your personal weighted blanket and heater.
He waited until your breathing evened out and your heart rate leveled, beating on par with his. Giving you a side glance, you were fast asleep, embracing Logan like a teddy bear. Pressing one final kiss to your forehead, he watched you sleep for a while longer, stroking your backbone and holding you close.
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
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eufezco · 5 months ago
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THE MUSE
Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?
Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)
Benedict didn't know how to ask you.
You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.
You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.
But your friendship with him had always been special.
When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.
You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.
That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.
—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.
—Good evening to you too, Benedict.
—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.
—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.
—Indeed.
You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.
He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.
—And...?
—I need practice female form.
You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.
—And you want me to...?
—Pose for me.
You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.
Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.
—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.
—I need you to ...
Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.
—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—
—I need to practice naked female form.
Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.
You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.
—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?
—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.
Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.
He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.
—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.
—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.
Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.
Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.
He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?
Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.
The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.
—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.
Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.
—Could we try another position?
You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.
He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?
Lust.
Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.
Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.
He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.
You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.
Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.
—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.
—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.
He was satisfied with your answer.
Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.
He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.
—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.
Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.
You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.
You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?
Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.
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gyuswhore · 4 months ago
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Grease (the tragedy)
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“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”
jeon wonwoo x reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!
synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.
[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe
and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh
and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!
masterlist
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 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???
Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 
It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 
[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine
Today 7:20 PM
[You]: im here?
The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.
So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 
Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 
The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 
You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 
“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”
“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”
He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!
It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 
“O–oh, I see.”
The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 
Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 
“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”
“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”
Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 
The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 
“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”
“Her husband.”
“I see.”
Silence. 
“How do you know her husband?”
He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 
“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”
“Workshop?”
He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”
“No, she didn’t.”
It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 
One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 
“What kind of cars do you work on?”
“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”
“Have I heard of it?”
“The cars?”
“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”
“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”
You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.
“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”
“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”
“Family business?”
“Uh–sort of.” 
“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”
“Is there a problem?”
Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 
“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 
“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.
“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”
There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 
“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 
“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 
Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 
“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”
Did he…snort?
“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 
“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 
“Nothing.”
That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 
If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 
“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”
Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”
“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”
“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”
Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 
“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”
“For laughing?”
“And for being obscenely late.”
“And?”
“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”
“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 
Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”
“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”
The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”
“More like I don’t care to be personable.”
“That can’t be good for business.”
“The cars speak for themselves.”
He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 
“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 
“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”
The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”
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“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 
There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 
Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”
The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 
“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”
“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”
“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”
Lies, it was entirely her fault. 
Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.
“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"
“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”
“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”
“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”
“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”
“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”
Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 
That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 
“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”
How fitting. 
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“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 
You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 
Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”
“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 
“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”
What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 
You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 
The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 
The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 
Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 
“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 
To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.
“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 
“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 
No, just a failed love interest.
“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”
“Do you need help with your car?”
“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”
With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 
By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 
At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  
“Am I late for something again?” 
Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 
“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.
“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”
“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”
He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.
Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 
A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 
“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 
You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”
“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 
Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”
“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 
“So you can fix it?” 
“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”
Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”
“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”
It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”
“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 
“Because that’s gonna cost…?”
“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 
“But—” That’s it?
“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 
“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 
The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 
Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 
Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 
“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”
Wonwoo stares pointedly. 
You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”
He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”
“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 
Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”
“What does it do?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Touché.” 
Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”
Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smirks, “Touché.” 
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You questioned if this was a mistake. 
Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.
The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 
But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 
Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 
Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 
Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…
The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 
“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”
“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”
“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”
He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”
“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.
He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”
You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 
Goodness, what’s gotten into you.
Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 
“Shall we go to the office then?” 
Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 
“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”
“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”
It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.
“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 
Cute. 
There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 
You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”
“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”
“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 
He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”
You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”
He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 
As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”
“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”
“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 
“And if you charge me double?”
“Might not charge you at all.”
“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 
“Might.”
“And what’re the conditions for that?” 
He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”
You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”
He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”
“Hm?”
“Can I? Let you know?” 
It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 
“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 
You hesitate. “I think so too.”
“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 
“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”
He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”
“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”
“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 
“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 
You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 
Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 
“Are you doing anything else today?” 
“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”
He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”
You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.
This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.
He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 
Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”
He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”
“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.
“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”
If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?
“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”
You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 
Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 
When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 
“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”
Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 
That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 
“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”
He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 
There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 
“Was that okay?”
“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”
“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”
You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 
“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 
“Fuck, yes you can.” 
With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”
You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 
Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 
You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 
Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 
“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”
He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 
You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 
The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 
You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 
“There,” he pants. “Almost.”
You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 
“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”
And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 
The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 
“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 
He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”
You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”
And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 
And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 
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2K notes · View notes
talaok · 3 months ago
Text
What's a fanfiction?
"You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"
Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: By mistake, you send Joel, your neighbor, your dad’s best friend, a fanfic you wrote, and when you go to his house to talk to him about it, your worst fear comes to life… and then your biggest dream.
Warnings: age-gap, he blackmails you (but youre very much into it) smut| oral sex (m receiving), facefucking, 1 lil threat of anal, p in v sex, creampie, sir kink, small little breeding kink moment, so much degradation, and a lil bit of praising.
a/n: i am aware this is not written very well, but i was thinking too much and then i remembered that at the end of the day i do this for fun and its not that serious, so please overlook all the shitty parts. love ya very much<3
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Read.
Read-
He read it. He fucking read it and you're gonna jump off a cliff and die.
You swore- you fucking swore you sent it to Miley yesterday night. Right before you went to sleep, you finished writing it and sent to her- except obviously, that wasn't what had fucking happened.
You'd sent it to him
And now you needed to find a fucking solution.
__ __ __
God even knocking felt like torture,
"oh hi y/n" Sarah's smile was nothing like her dad's, it was all kindness and sweetness, while Joel's... well Joel's always had something strange lurking behind his.
"Hi Sarah" you forced your lips to mimic hers, although the nerves were making it difficult "Is your dad home? I kinda need to talk to him"
"mh-mh" she nodded, gesturing for you to come in "he's in his study upstairs"
You stepped into the house just as she crouched down to pick up a gym bag
"You know where that is right?" she asked "I'm late for practice, I gotta go"
You felt your heart drop as her words sank in.
She was going out- she would be leaving you alone with him, in his house, in his study-
But then again, considering what it was you were here to talk about, maybe it was for the best.
"Yeah, don't worry" you forced another smile
"great" she beamed "see you later then"
And just like that, she was out of the house, and you were sole in the middle of your neighbor's entrance.
__ __ __
Again, another knock that felt very much like a punch to the gut
"come in"
His voice was warm and strong like it always was, that same voice that made your panties dampen just at the thought of it.
"H-hey Mr. Miller" you swallowed thickly, pushing open the door as if an army of zombies waited on the other side
"Darlin'" he nodded at you from behind his wooden desk, a hint of a grin shadowing his lips
Darlin'
Darlin'
God this fucking man
"h-hey" you said again, cursing internally while you tried remembering why you were even there.
Oh, right. Just about the most awkward thing ever.
A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest, making the hair at the nape of your neck stand.
"Whatcha doing here, doll?"
You felt heat rush to your cheeks, and then you felt your eyes fall to the floor as your hands fiddled with the edge of your skirt.
The skirt you purposely wore to come here- for him-
god what a stupid fucking-
"Thatta real pretty skirt you got on"
Your eyes snapped up to him, but he took his time glancing away from your legs.
"Oh- I- thank you" you murmured
"Jus' call 'em like I see 'em, darlin'" he shrugged, leaning back into his chair "Now's that all you came here for? To show me your new pretty skirt?"
"n-no" you rushed in to say, perhaps too quickly to be fully believable "I came here because I- uhm" You bit your bottom lip, the nervous fiddling starting back up again
"I ain't gonna bite babydoll"
Fuck- at this rate your panties would start melting.
"last night-" you gulped "I kinda- I... well I sent you something by mistake"
"ah" he hummed, raising his brows as he clicked on something on the laptop next to him "I gotta say, issa real... interesting story this one"
No-
NO
Fuck my life and everything ever in the existence of the universe fuckfuckfuck-
"who's..." he trailed off, reading off his screen "Javier?"
Your lungs had turned to stone and your mind to dust.
This couldn't be really happening, no, I mean, even if he'd read it for some reason he surely wouldn't be... taunting you for it.
"Mr. Miller-"
"real lucky guy" he said, his lips twitching into a soft smirk as he looked at you curiously "You brought him home to meet your daddy yet?"
"n-no" you stuttered, your mind a big ashamed mess and your whole body frozen like a statue "n-no he's not... real"
You watched his brows come together in confusion.
"what's that mean he ain't real?"
A shaky sigh fled your lips as you surrendered to your fate
"He's a character... f-from a tv show"
He remained silent, and as comfortable with silence as you were it was a different kind of story when Joel Miller was staring at you... so you talked again.
"T-that's a fanfiction, I- I write them sometimes, it's... fun"
His eyes searched yours for answers, faint amusement sparking in the back of his irises.
"what's a fanfiction, doll?"
Death wasn't such a scary thing after all- yeah it sure as hell was a better alternative to this.
"It's a... made-up story, that people- that I- sometimes write about fictional characters I like- a-and then I post it for p-people to read"
"And this Javier..."
"Narcos" you blurted out "H-he's from the show Narcos, he's not real"
His mouth twitched into a subtle smile, his eyes raking all over your body as if he was checking to see if it was really you in front of him
"I've seen that show" he said, his brow raising "Ain't he a bit old for you, babydoll?"
"Y-yes well- I-I-"
But you had no excuse for that, you could never tell him the truth, about how much you liked older men... about all the celebrity crushes double your age- so you just bit your lip, looking down at the floor.
The noise of his chair creaking as he got up made your heart skip a beat, but it stopped completely only when you heard him step closer to you... until he was right before you.
The only thing you could see were the socks covering his feet, and part of his black jeans- you didn't have it in you to actually look at him, to see him laughing at you, but you had no other choice when two of his fingers pulled your chin up.
"so you sit in your room, imagining this old man doin' all this stuff to you, and then you write it down?" he spoke, his beautiful mouth so very close to you "And here I was thinkin' you were a good little girl"
Your breath caught in your throat at those words, and he... yeah he definitely noticed.
"Please don't tell my dad"
"well I don't know" he moved some hair from your face, "I think this is somethin' your daddy ought to know"
a well of fear dipped into your belly, your eyes widening
"n-no please" you begged "Please Mr. Miller don't, I'll do anything- anything at all"
"oh sweetie" he cooed, "that ain't somethin' you can tell a man, especially not after he's read all the dirty things you fantasize about in your pretty little head"
"Mr Miller-" you bit your lip
"Mr Miller?" he repeated, looking down at you like you were the smallest little creature in the world "That ain't what you were calling Javi now, was it?"
A small, almost imperceptible gasp left your mouth.
He couldn't be saying... no right?- except...
"Joel-"
"that ain't it either" he shook his head, his thumb tracing the shape of your lower lip "you know what it is babygirl"
Either you were gonna make a fool of yourself, or this really was what he wanted.
"S-sir"
The slightest, most feline smirk pulled at his lips in satisfaction "thatta girl" he murmured "you don't want your dad to know what a dirty lil' girl his daughter really is?"
His breath was fanning on your mouth, and his touch was making your legs turn to jelly.
"n-no" you shook your head almost imperceptibly
"no?" he asked again, just to see you squirm, just to savor this moment for a little bit more.
"no sir"
He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat, his eyes looking into yours, memorizing every inch of your face, of the anxiety, the ardor, the plead in your expression.
"then get on your knees"
Your eyes widened in shock, the air going up your throat suddenly getting stuck
"w-wha-"
"what?" he asked, not even sounding like himself anymore. His tone was sweet, calm even, but something almost dire lurked underneath his words.
"you seemed eager to do it when Javi asked" he tilted his head, his fingers still holding your chin.
If you didn't know better you would have guessed it was jealousy that traced his tone whenever he spoke the name of your fantasies's protagonist... little did he know the main reason why you even liked Javier was his resemblance to him- to Joel.
"Mr- sir" you stuttered "I-"
"I don't like to repeat myself y/n" he spoke sternly, his eyes boring into yours "Do you want your daddy to know or not?"
You didn't need to answer, you only held his stare as he let your face go, and you slowly, unsurely, and awkwardly got to your knees.
"wasn't so hard now was it?" he asked, his eyes dark enough to fade into the night sky "what are you waiting for?"
"I-"
"You need instructions babydoll?" he chuckled "'cause I ain't gonna give 'em to ya" he said while your heart pounded in your chest "I know you know how to do it" he smirked "Described it so well in your little fanfiction"
"b-but I-" you tried to take a deep breath but doing anything while he towered over you, while his crotch was right in your line of sight was proving to be very very difficult "I've only ever done this once" you gulped, trying to keep eye contact
"yeah?" he smiled, his hand going to the top of your head, gently patting it...that really shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. "then how come you knew exactly what to do with Javi? don't tell me you just guessed"
He either didn't believe you, or was really not expecting that. But it was the truth- you'd only ever done anything once... and it's not like it had even felt that great.
"Well, I- I do research... and I- I read a lot"
If you thought he looked predatorial before... you had no idea how bad it could really get.
"research huh?" he mocked, his voice as deep as it could get "Oh baby you're digging yourself a hole here" he tsked, shaking his head while looking almost disappointed "I really think your daddy ought to know about all the research his lil' girl's doing under his roof"
"No!" you begged, your bottom lip trembling.
"No?" he asked, tracing it with his thumb "Then I suggest you make it good, babygirl"
And that was that.
Your trembling hands undid his belt, then lowered his zipper, and finally pulled his pants down until they pooled at his feet.
Fuck
He was huge- even with the boxers still on it was very clear the man was just massive-
"I don't like to be teased y/n"
"s-sorry sir" you responded automatically, noticing his cock twitch within the confines of the fabric in appreciation of your obedience.
You had to do it slowly, you had to pull his boxers down slowly so you could have time to calm down, to not panic in front of the huge cock that was gonna be right in front of you at any moment-
And yet it didn't work- a soft gasp fled your mouth as you freed his manhood.
He only chuckled, watching the fear in your eyes, and quite frankly, very much enjoying it.
"I'll tell ya if you're doing it wrong" he simply spoke, his hand going to the back of your head to guide you closer to where he wanted you.
He was getting impatient. And you didn't want to disappoint him.
Yes, he was blackmailing you, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been dreaming of this for years.
You looked like a frightened kid as you wrapped your right hand around him, and you looked even more out of place as you opened your mouth and started fitting his length inside of it.
A weak grunt rumbled from his chest "Hollow your cheeks" he ordered, having you obey in a heartbeat.
"fuck that's good" he groaned now, watching you intently as you started bobbing your head, trying to fit more of him into your mouth "Good little slut"
You didn't know a moan was gonna flee your mouth until it had- until your whole face felt hot and you waited terrified for Joel's reaction.
Exect he was smiling- no- grinning like you'd just given him the best gift he'd ever received.
"Oh, you're really something else ain't ya, darlin'?"
"mhp" Your muffled noises were all the more entertaining to him, especially paired up with the sight of your thighs rubbing together.
You were so fucking wet you feared at any moment you would start dripping onto the floor.
"so needy" he murmured, his hand now gathering your hair in a makeshift bun "You wanna touch yourself, baby girl? wanna feel good while you make me feel good?"
"mh-mh" you tried to nod, to beg, to say yes please for the love of god let me.
"that's too bad" he tutted, sounding like he was holding back a laugh "Javi didn't let you do that now, did he?" he smirked "You wrote it, I think it's only right you get to experience it, babydoll"
But before you had time to ask yourself if he meant all of it, he'd spoken again.
"that all you can take?" he asked, watching the first half of his cock in your mouth with amusement "Here- how 'bout I help you out darlin'" he smirked, his hips retracting just to thrust into your mouth-
It wasn't a hard jab, but still you choked, and then you choked some more as he did it again, watching you fit more of him into your mouth as saliva drooled to your chin and your eyes watered.
You could feel the texture of every inch of his dick with your tongue, the feel of his veins, and the taste of his precum were all you were aware of.
"like that- see, jus' needed a lil' help" he groaned "Even a slut like you needs it sometimes"
His pace had quickened, and tears were now streaming down your face.
"shh" he shushed you once you choked yet another time "I know it's big baby" he cooed, his thrust much less gentle than his words, although that was all an act too "I know, I know... but you're gonna have to be a good whore for me and take it aaall into that slutty little throat, ok?" he murmured "just try to breathe through your nose"
What did he mean try?
What if you tried and failed?
But you weren't actually worried- you had never thought being horny could actually be painful, and yet, there you were, literally so wet and turned on it hurt.
You couldn't even see him anymore through all the tears covering your eyes, and you didn't even realize you were actively choking and making a complete mess of yourself, all you could feel was his big fat cock, and dream about how it would feel inside of you.
"God fuckin-" He groaned like an animal as he finally bottomed out, his dick making a permanent dent into your throat at this point "Jesus Christ"
He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, watching you struggle, and then, just like that, he was out- and you could breathe again.
He didn't even give you time to catch your breath, to finish coughing like a maniac that he'd already given you another order.
"get up," he said "take off your clothes"
He really did want to recreate the fic- you were- you were about to have sex with Joel Miller, THE Joel Miller, your neighbor and dad's best friend Joel Miller.
oh fuck
"What did I say about repeating myself?"
You scrambled to your feet, pulling your shirt off at the same time.
You heard him snort but didn't pay it any mind as you took your bra and skirt off as quickly as you could.
You really were desperate.
But when it came to your panties you slowed, everything suddenly feeling very real.
"what are you waiting for?"
"s-sorry sir" you mumbled, finally dropping them at your feet.
A soft groaned fuck climbed up his throat as he examined every inch of your body.
You would be covering yourself, feeling a little self-conscious, if it wasn't for the fact that his gaze had turned you to stone.
"pick your panties up" he said as if getting out of a trance.
You frowned, confused, but obeyed nonetheless.
Maybe he didn't like the mess...
"Put 'em in the first drawer," he said, nodding back to his desk.
Oh
He followed your every move as you walked past him, but it was only when you were at his desk, that he started stalking towards you.
He was right beside you now, and somewhere along the way he'd lost his shirt, because your back was now pressed against his chest, and your ass was right against something else.
"I'm keepin' those" he murmured, his deep voice right next to your ear, his hands going to grip your waist.
You dropped the panties where he asked and nodded, turning to him, finding his face, his mouth, but an inch from your own.
"Yes sir"
His cock twitched again right against your backside as his mouth ghosted yours.
"Bend over"
You swallowed thickly, doing as he said.
You shivered feeling the table's cold wood meet your skin, but you got hot all over again once you felt Joel's words.
"Spread your legs"
You did.
"What an obedient slut I've turned you into" he grinned, proud of himself
"Where do you want it?"
You felt his cock slide between your cheeks, making you whimper and arch your back.
"here?" he slid it in between your legs, connecting with your clit.
You moaned as you shook your head no
"here?" he asked again, this time his dick prodding at your asshole.
You gasped as you mumbled "N-no sir- please"
"You want in your throat again babydoll, 's that it?" he teased you, his tip still leaving smears of his precum on your hole
"mh-mh" you shook your head no again "Please"
"no?" he snickered, "Then where?"
"Here?" he asked, the tip of his dick finally getting exactly where you wanted him "in your slutty lil' pussy?"
"yes- p-please sir- I-"
"say it" he taunted you, almost slipping in.
"I- I need it"
"what do you need?"
"Y-Your cock sir" you begged
"Where do you need my cock?"
"I-I need it in my pussy" you cried- he was so close if he would just- "I need your cock in my pussy sir, please I- I'm begging you-"
"good little slut"
He pushed in with one singular, hard thrust, making you cry out so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard.
He was so big it kind of burned at first, but as he thrust in again and you heard him groan in pleasure, there was no going back- you were in complete bliss... and your brain had turned to mush.
You were moaning- loudly.
"fuck-" he grunted "you're such a whore darlin'"
The sound of how wet you were as he plunged into your heat was filthy.
"Y'know- I usually give women an orgasm before I fuck 'em," he said as his balls slapped rhythmically against your skin "but you're just a whore- and whores don't deserve to be treated with respect, do ya?" Your back arched, feeding him more of yourself as your walls squeezed around him "Nah, you deserve to be used. Used like the little sluts that you are" he kept grunting, not paying any mind to how loud you were being, or how the desk had started to slip because of how hard his thrusts were "And it ain't like you need it, is it darlin'?" he chuckled, suddenly pulling you up, his right arm around your torso keeping you pinned against him "you're makin' a mess" he murmured into your ear, shivers running up your spine "and besides, this' how you wanted it- wrote it jus' like this in your lil' story didn't ya, ya little slut?"
He bit your earlobe just as his dick hit your cervix, making your brain short-circuit.
It was all so hot- so fucking hot.
"I can't imagine what your daddy would say" his mouth was on your neck now, but his pace was the same as ever, as hard and unapologetic as it could get "knowing what nasty things his little girl likes to think- to write" he chuckled "bet the poor guy would have the fuckin' big one if he knew"
"if he knew how you like to be fucked by men 30 years older than you" he groaned, feeling you squeeze him as you whimpered his name incoherently "if he knew how tight you get when I tell you how much of a slut you are"
Your eyes were rolled back, and your head had dropped against his chest
"please"
"If he knew how good you fuckin' take my cock" he murmured right against your mouth, your legs trembling "How desperate you are for it"
He was going even faster, and he was now supporting your whole body because your legs weren't working anymore.
"If he knew what a fuckin' whore he raised" he grunted, plunging his cock as deep as it could go, molding your body to him "how she's my whore now"
And that was it- that was it.
You felt actual tears stream down your cheeks as bliss took over your body- as you cried and moaned and trembled until you were done, until you'd finally recovered.
"I'm gonna come inside babygirl" It wasn't a question, it was an order, just like every one he'd given you for the past hour "Jus' like Javi" he grunted, his thrusts more erratic now "except this is real life baby- and you better hope it doesn't stick" he smirked, feeling your walls squeeze involuntarily at his words "God you're such a slut"
"Now take it all like a good one"
You couldn't help but join his moaning as he came, as he filled you up to the very brim.
You were a mess- cum was already running down your thighs as he slipped out of you, but you still followed his lead and started dressing again- only your panties were in his drawer and the walk back home would be a real awkward one.
"You post these stories?"
There was no point in lying, you'd already confessed to it.
"I- yes" you swallowed, putting your bra on "o-on Tumblr"
You could very well see he'd never heard of the app
"How are you called on there?"
He'd stepped closer to you, watching you fiddle with your shirt in your hands.
His belt was unbuckled, his jeans still open, and you were starting to feel ready for round two already.
"S-sir you want t-to-”
"I gotta know what other things your daddy can't know about” he murmured, moving a piece of hair from your face “and all the things I’m gonna do to my lil’ slut”
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theetherealbloom · 4 months ago
Text
TAKE ME DOWN TO LIFT ME HIGH
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Summary: In the grand city of Rome, you, a senator's daughter, are entangled in a world far removed from your aristocratic upbringing. Your chance encounter with General Marcus Acacius, a renowned gladiator and war hero, changes your life forever.
Paring: Marcus Acacius x f!reader
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, AU, PWP, Some Plot and more smut, ANGST, Fluff, SMUT, Fingering, PIV, Unprotected Sex, Exhibition Kink, Age-Gap, Ancient Rome, Canon Violence, Gladiators, Blood, Gore, Politics, Sexism (it’s ancient rome, babe), Sneaking Around, Forbidden Love, Loss of Virginity, Boobs,
Word Count: 6k
A/N: The amount of research I had to do for this was insane. I was more obsessed with Greek Mythology than Roman so I needed a refresher. Hehe, there’s not a lotttt of drama, but it leans more into the smut side and just cheesy over all plot lol and a little fun ceremony in the end. Everyone say thank you to @wheresarizona for listening to me go feral over Marcus. Go send her some love cause she deserves it :>
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
dividers by: @/saradika-graphics
Song: Selene by NIKI
| Main Masterlist |
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The return of General Marcus Acacius was an event of grand opulence. The streets of Rome were alive with screams and celebrations as he rode his golden chariot, smiling and waving at the throngs of admirers. It was as if the bloodshed and death that marked his victory were distant echoes, easily forgotten by the jubilant crowd.
"Long live General Marcus!" someone shouted.
"A true hero of Rome!" another voice rang out.
You weren't supposed to be in the crowd. Your place was at home, learning household chores such as cooking, cleaning, and weaving—the essential skills expected of a Roman matron. Yet, here you were, hidden beneath a hood, blending with the common folk as you watched the celebrated general parade down the street.
As the parade came to an end, you discreetly followed behind the procession, your eyes fixed on General Marcus Acacius. He was dressed in white and glittering gold, a stark contrast to his usual attire of blood-stained armor and weapons. Even though he was smiling and waving at the crowds, you could see the disdain in his eyes for such a grandiose display.
You had heard stories about him, rumors whispered amongst the noble families of Rome. They spoke of his ruthless acts on the battlefield, of his unwavering loyalty to Rome, and of his preferences. Yet here he was, parading through the streets in all his glory, hailed as a hero by everyone.
You couldn't help but feel drawn to him despite everything you had heard. There was something about him that intrigued you, something that made your heart race and your cheeks flush.
Your mind was filled with thoughts of General Marcus Acacius, wondering what kind of man he truly was beyond his reputation as a war hero.
As you stood there, trying to remain inconspicuous, your eyes met his. The connection was electric, almost as if the gods themselves had intervened. Marcus’s gaze was so intense that it seemed to pierce through the crowd and find you alone. He noted every feature of your face, his expression betraying a hint of fascination.
You felt your cheeks flush with heat and quickly looked away, breaking the eye contact. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned and began to scurry home, the thrill of the encounter leaving you breathless.
Your pulse raced as you made your way through the bustling streets of Rome, trying to push aside the image of General Marcus Acacius's piercing gaze. You couldn't understand why you were so affected by a man you barely knew, but there was something about him that drew you in.
You managed to sneak back into your room, just barely slipping past the household guards. Being the daughter of a senator afforded you certain privileges, including an education that many girls your age could only dream of. Your studies typically included reading, writing, and arithmetic, equipping you with the skills necessary to manage a household and participate in society. You were also taught music, dancing, and literature, for understanding and appreciating poetry was considered a virtue for a Roman woman.
As you settled in your room, the memory of Marcus’s gaze lingered in your mind. The image of his rugged face, scarred from countless battles, and his piercing eyes was etched into your thoughts. There was something about him that was both terrifying and captivating.
A soft knock on your door interrupted your reverie. It was your handmaid, Lydia, her expression curious.
"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice low but firm.
You hesitated, then sighed. "I went to see the procession."
Lydia’s eyes widened. "The general’s return? You could have been caught!"
"I know," you admitted, "but I had to see him."
"Why? What could be so important?"
You bit your lip, unsure how to explain the inexplicable pull you felt towards the gladiator general. "I don't know, Lydia. It's just... when our eyes met, it felt like something changed."
Lydia shook her head, her expression a mix of worry and understanding. "You must be careful. The world outside is not as forgiving as the walls of this villa."
The days following the procession were filled with a whirlwind of emotions. You couldn't shake the image of Marcus from your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw his intense gaze, felt the inexplicable connection that had sparked between you.
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The grand villa of your father was abuzz with preparations for the evening’s banquet. Slaves hurried to and fro, setting tables with fine silverware and arranging elaborate floral displays. The scent of roasted meats and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the delicate fragrance of flowers.
Tonight, your father, a respected senator, was hosting a dinner in honor of General Marcus Acacius. The entire house was a flurry of activity, with guests arriving in their finest attire, their laughter and chatter filling the atrium. You stood near the entrance, feeling the weight of your responsibilities as the senator’s daughter.
Your mother approached, adjusting the drape of your stola with a critical eye. “Remember, you must be on your best behavior tonight. This banquet is crucial for your father’s alliances.”
You nodded, though your mind was elsewhere. Ever since you had seen Marcus in the parade, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The memory of his piercing gaze had haunted you, and now he was here, in your home.
"Come," your father said, his hand on your back guiding you through the crowd. "I want you to meet someone."
You followed, your heart pounding in anticipation. As you approached, you saw him standing there, taller and more imposing than anyone else in the room. Marcus Acacius, the hero of Rome, the man who had invaded your thoughts and dreams.
"General Acacius," your father began, his voice carrying the weight of his status, "allow me to introduce my daughter."
Marcus turned, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. He bowed slightly, a gesture of respect, but his gaze remained unwavering. "My lady," he said, his voice like velvet, "it is an honor."
General Marcus was the most strikingly handsome man you had ever seen. His chiseled features were framed by dark brown eyes beneath thick, black eyebrows. His long, aquiline nose and firm mouth, accentuated by a sensuously full lower lip, completed the picture of rugged masculinity. He stood tall, towering over most men, with a lean, muscular body and broad, powerful shoulders.
His hair, a captivating mix of salt and pepper, was cut short and fell in loose curls around his head, with distinguished grey patches in his beard that added to his allure.
"The honor is mine, General," you replied, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay composed.
"Please, call me Marcus," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "We are, after all, in more intimate surroundings."
Your father chuckled, clearly pleased with Marcus's easy charm. "I will leave you two to get acquainted," he said, patting Marcus on the shoulder before moving away to mingle with other guests.
The moment your father left, the air between you and Marcus seemed to crackle with electricity. He took a step closer, the heat of his body radiating towards you. "I must confess," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, "I have been looking forward to this moment."
You swallowed hard, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. "As have I," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Marcus's eyes darkened with desire, and he reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your knees weaken. "You are even more captivating up close," he said, his voice husky. "I find myself drawn to you, like a moth to a flame."
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as his hand slid up your arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you feel it too?" he whispered.
You nodded, unable to form a coherent response. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, his scent, his warmth, the sheer power of his focus on you.
As Marcus's hand continued to caress your arm, you felt your heart race with a mixture of excitement and nerves. You had never been this close to him before, and the realization that he was interested in you sent a wave of exhilaration through your body.
His lips brushed against your earlobe, making you shiver. "I want to know everything about you," he murmured, his voice sending sparks down your spine. "Your hopes, your dreams, what makes you laugh and what makes you cry out for mercy."
You turned towards him, meeting his intense gaze. "I want to know about you too," you said, feeling bold in his presence.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned closer. "There is not much to tell," he said modestly, though the way his eyes roamed over your face suggested otherwise. "Just a soldier who has dedicated his life to serving Rome."
But there was something more behind those words, something hidden beneath the mask of duty and honor. You could sense it in the way he held himself, in the intensity of his gaze.
"I don't believe that," you said firmly. "There is so much more to a person than their profession."
Marcus's smile widened into a grin as he took another step closer to you. "You are wise beyond your years," he said appreciatively.
The room around you seemed to fade away as you became lost in each other's gaze. It was as if there was no one else in the world but the two of you.
Suddenly, a loud noise broke through the moment – someone had knocked over a vase nearby. The sound jolted both of you back to reality and Marcus stepped back slightly.
"I should go check on that," he said regretfully.
Marcus's lips lingered on your skin for a moment longer before pulling away to look into your eyes. "I promise, we will continue this conversation another time," he said softly.
You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. You couldn't wait to spend more time with him and get to know him better.
As Marcus turned to leave, you couldn't help but watch him walk away, his confident stride and broad shoulders filling you with a sense of admiration. You sighed dreamily and turned back to the feast, only to be greeted by your handmaids with teasing grins.
"What was that all about?" one of them asked, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively.
You feel your cheeks heat up, trying to hide your excitement. "Nothing," you said coyly. "Just a conversation."
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As the guests were seated in the triclinium, the air was filled with the sounds of conversation and the clinking of goblets. You found yourself seated across from Marcus, who looked imposing in his formal attire. His presence commanded the room, yet his eyes frequently strayed to you, a subtle intensity in his gaze.
The evening progressed with toasts to Marcus’s victories and speeches praising his valor. You tried to focus on the conversations around you, but your mind kept drifting to the man across the table. Finally, you could bear it no longer. Under the pretense of needing fresh air, you excused yourself and slipped out into the garden.
The cool night air was a welcome relief as you wandered through the manicured paths, the soft glow of lanterns illuminating your way. The garden was a haven of tranquility compared to the lively banquet inside. You found a secluded bench and sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hum of voices from the villa created a serene backdrop as you tried to gather your thoughts.
As you sat there, the faint sound of a conversation caught your attention. You turned your head slightly, realizing that a group of senators had gathered nearby, their voices low but urgent. You recognized the voices of some of the most influential men in Rome, including your father.
"I hear that Emperor Caracalla is eager to stage a grand spectacle," one senator said, his tone conspiratorial. "He wants to solidify his power and win the favor of the masses."
"Indeed," another replied. "I heard he plans to pit some of the finest gladiators against each other. And there are whispers that General Marcus Acacius himself might be forced to take part in the games."
You felt a pang of concern at the mention of Marcus's name. The thought of him in the Colosseum, fighting for his life, was almost too much to bear.
"Emperor Geta is not pleased with this idea," a third senator interjected. "He sees it as a waste of a valuable military asset. But Caracalla is determined. He believes a victory in the arena will elevate Marcus to legendary status, securing loyalty from the soldiers and the people alike."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you processed their words. The political machinations of Rome were ruthless, and it seemed that Marcus was caught in the middle of it all.
As the senators continued their discussion elsewhere, their voices drifting away back into the villa, you felt a presence behind you. You turned to see Marcus emerging from the shadows, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath catch. He moved silently, his powerful form cutting through the darkness like a predator stalking its prey.
"My lady," he said softly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "It seems we both seek refuge in the quiet of the garden."
"Marcus," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and longing. "I overheard the senators. They plan to have you fight in the Colosseum."
His expression darkened, and he closed the distance between you in a few swift strides. "I know," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "The emperors play their games, and I am but a pawn. But tonight, I do not wish to think of such things."
He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. "Tonight, I only want to think of you."
Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a tantalizing softness. The kiss deepened, his hands roaming over your body, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His touch was both possessive and gentle, his need for you evident in every caress.
"Marcus," you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair. "This is madness. If we are caught..."
"Let them find us," he murmured against your lips. "I would rather face the lions in the arena than be without you."
His words sent a thrill through you, and you responded with a fervor that matched his own. Your bodies pressed together, the heat of your passion driving away the cool night air. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other.
"Promise me," you whispered, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "Promise me you will come back to me, no matter what happens."
"I swear it," he said, his voice filled with determination. "No matter what the emperors or the gods throw at me, I will return to you."
With those words, he captured your lips again, sealing his promise with a kiss that left you breathless. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as he reached out, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. He leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 
His voice, a velvety whisper, sent a wave of desire flooding through you as he murmured, "I want you. Here. Now."
The moon was high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the garden, as Marcus pressed you against the wall. His hands roamed over your body, igniting fires with each touch. You could feel his desire for you, and it only fueled your own.
Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you up and pressed you against the garden walls. His body hovering over yours as he trailed kisses down your neck and along your collarbone. Every nerve in your body was on fire, and you couldn't contain the moan that escaped from your lips.
With a growl of need, Marcus captured your lips once again while his hands began to explore under your dress. The feeling of his warm skin against yours sent shivers down your spine as he traced patterns along your thighs.
"Marcus," you gasped between kisses. "We shouldn't-"
"Shhh," he whispered, gently sliding your white cotton robe off your shoulders. "I can't resist you any longer.”
Marcus unexpectedly reached out his large, rough hands and cupped each one of your breasts, weighing them in his palms. Your body jolted at the sudden touch, your skin tingling under his warm heat. You could feel the calluses on his fingers, hardened from years of wielding swords and other battle weapons, leaving tiny marks on your delicate skin like a trail of fire.
As he squeezed and rotated your breasts gently, desire surged through you, igniting a deep longing within. You wanted to surrender yourself completely to him, to offer up not just your body but your very being to his every whim. The sensation was so overwhelming that you yearned to throw your head back in abandonment and give in to the all-consuming pleasure he evoked.
The protests that had escaped your lips now transformed into guttural moans of pleasure as his skilled fingers worked their magic on your most sensitive spot. Every touch sent electric shocks through your body, making you shiver and writhe against the wall. As Marcus trailed his fingertips over every inch of your slick flesh, you felt yourself becoming more and more lost in the overwhelming waves of pleasure coursing through you. With each stroke, your body arched further off the wall, desperate for more of his touch. It was like a symphony of sensations, building and crescendoing until you were completely consumed by the intensity of it all.
He slid a finger between your legs and pushed it deep inside you. Pleasure shot through your body, causing you to arch and writhe as he expertly stroked your tight passage.
"My lady, you have an incredibly tight cunt," he grunted out, his voice strained and revealing his own growing arousal. His features twisted in pleasure and his eyes glinted with a primal lust.
He firmly grasped your aroused nub and slid another finger into your tight, welcoming entrance. "We have to be quiet or we'll risk getting caught," he whispered in your ear.
You nodded eagerly, pleading, "Yes, anything. Please."
As his skilled fingers gently rotated over your sensitive clit and his other digit pumped inside your wet, pulsing core, you couldn't help but surrender to the pleasure he was bestowing upon you. From the moment his eyes locked on yours, you knew you were his to be used however he pleased, your body a vessel for his insatiable desires. With each expert movement of his fingers, you felt yourself spiraling into a dizzying state of pure ecstasy, completely at his mercy. Your flesh responded eagerly to his touch, begging for more as he claimed you as his own.
The General's gentle touch on your skin was electrifying, bringing a growing pleasure to your body that felt almost overwhelming. You could feel yourself getting too hot, too tense, and you were afraid of releasing the intense climax that was building inside you with just a single touch. 
"Oh Goddess," you gasped, tilting your head back against his shoulder and shutting your eyes as your desire became sharper and more urgent.
A sharp cry escaped your lips as his long finger penetrated you, rotating and rubbing inside your core while his other fingers worked relentlessly on your sensitive clitoris. Your body squirmed against the intense pleasure, your hands grasping at his muscular arms to anchor yourself amidst the overwhelming sensations. He chuckled softly as you began to move your hips in a circular motion, still continuing to bring you pleasure with his skilled touch for several minutes. Just as you were about to reach the edge of climax, he eased off slightly, keeping his movements quick and light.
But eventually, your body tensed up and convulsed, your movements erratic and desperate, your breaths coming in short gasps. As the tension in your loins grew tighter and tighter, you let out a high-pitched wail and reached the peak of ecstasy. Your walls pulsated around his probing finger, which was now coated in even more of your warm juices.
As the waves of pleasure subsided, Marcus gently turned you to face him again. His white robe and short toga were cast aside, leaving him naked in front of you. He stood tall and proud, his lean and muscular frame on full display. But it was his erect penis that took your breath away. It was massive, thick and much longer than average, standing rigid and red above a nest of dark pubic hair.
His impressive and exposed physique took your breath away as you gazed upon it. "Oh, my Goddess!" you exclaimed, feeling overwhelmed by his sheer size.
Without hesitation, Marcus reached out and grasped your thighs, pulling you closer to him. He leaned over your body, closed his fist around his member, and guided the tip towards your still-dripping entrance.
He managed to get the thick bulbous tip of his penis through your opening. You immediately felt stretched and full. You gave him a pouting look, your hips wriggling in an effort to accommodate him. “You big brute, you’re tearing me apart.”
He clenched his teeth, sweat starting to matt his silver and grey hair at his forehead. The pleasure of being inside such a tight flesh was almost dizzying, and he had to pull in all of his control to prevent himself from plunging completely inside of you. 
That would come later, he promised, once you had been well oiled by him. He pushed again and managed another inch, and slowly continued to advance his penis inside your channel. 
“You’re so tight,” his voice was harsh and strained, as if in pain. It wasn't too far from the truth; she felt tight around him, almost like a vice grip. But despite the discomfort, she was so warm and smooth inside.
With a groan, he slid the thick bulbous tip of his penis into your opening. A sharp pang of fullness shot through you as your body stretched to accommodate him. You gave him a pouting look, your hips wriggling and contorting in an effort to ease the pressure. "You big oaf," you playfully scolded, though there was a hint of pleasure in your voice.
He clenched his teeth, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead as he fought for control. The sensation of being inside such tight, warm flesh was almost overwhelming, and he had to take deep breaths to calm himself. He promised himself that he would give in completely once you were well-oiled by him.
He pushed with all his strength, feeling the resistance of your body as he slid deeper and deeper inside. The walls of your channel were smooth and slick, clenching around him like a vice. He couldn't hold back the grunt that escaped his clenched teeth, a mix of intense sensation coursing through his body. It was a pleasurable pain, like being held in a fierce embrace by someone who loved you too much - an exquisite torture that he never wanted to end. But with each slow and deliberate thrust, he knew that the pleasure would only intensify, building to a climax that would leave them both breathless.
Slowly but surely, Marcus eased his penis deeper into your body. With each inch of progress, you both felt the intensity of your connection grow stronger. Your entire body trembled with each thrust he made. When he was halfway inside you, Marcus used his fingers to stimulate your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your core throbbed with ecstasy as Marcus took advantage of your relaxed muscles and thrust deeply inside you until he was fully engulfed.
You and Marcus both groan at the same time. He quickly covers your mouth with his hand, gently hushing you. "Shh, my Carissima... I know it feels good, but we must be quiet. We can't risk your father catching us in this compromising position." The General continues to stimulate your sensitive spot, using his fingers to tease and moisten it further.
Your hips continued to rock and push against his manhood, your desire growing with each movement. You leaned back and moaned as General Marcus Acacius took full control of your body. He held onto your hips tightly as he thrust deep inside you, the pleasure intensifying for both of you. It was clear that neither of you was far from reaching the peak of ecstasy.
You let out moans and contorted your body as the large, broad, man moved back and forth between your legs. As your face twisted in pleasure and your head thrashed about, you experienced this unfamiliar sensation called sexual pleasure. Your climax came quickly and intensely, feeling like it lasted for several minutes. You threw your head back and let out a scream as the intense pleasure broke through between your thighs. A hot wave of pleasure spread throughout your body, causing your hips to writhe against Marcus'.
As your body trembled and released into an intense orgasm, you felt Marcus' muscles tighten beneath you. A deep, primal roar escaped his lips as he too reached the peak of his climax. The sound echoed through the gardens blending with the rhythmic pounding of your heart and breath. It was a moment of pure, raw passion that left you both gasping for air and tangled in each other's embrace.
As the intense pleasure slowly subsided, you became aware of the small droplets of blood trickling down your thighs and onto the grass. It was a sign that your virginity had been taken, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new one.
General Marcus Acacius carefully pulled out of you and helped you to sit up. You could see his concern in his eyes as he looked at the blood staining his robe on the ground and your thighs.
"Are you hurt, Carissima? I didn't mean to be so rough..." he asked, his voice filled with worry.
You shook your head, still trying to catch your breath. "No… I'm fine," you managed to say.
He let out a sigh of relief and gently wiped away the blood with a nearby cloth. You winced slightly at the slight soreness between your legs but it was nothing compared to the intense pleasure you had just experienced.
Marcus held you close, his strong arms wrapped around you protectively. "You were amazing, my love," he whispered in your ear.
A flood of emotions washed over you as you realized what had just happened between the two of you. You had shared an intimate moment with General Marcus Acacius, someone who was forbidden to you because of your status as a daughter of such nobility. And yet, in that moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was the overwhelming feeling of love and desire that consumed both of you.
Your mind was spinning, knowing all too well what would happen if anyone found out about your relationship with the General. Your father would surely punish both of you severely and possibly even sell one or both of you off.
Even with the knowledge of what had just happened, and what could, it was difficult for you to feel remorse or embarrassment. Instead, you felt a sense of contentment and fulfillment that you had never experienced before.
Marcus chuckled warmly and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. "You are truly something special, Carissima," he said with adoration in his eyes.
You blushed at his words, feeling a surge of happiness wash over you. Despite the risks and consequences, being with Marcus felt like the most natural thing in the world.
But as the reality of your situation sank in, a sense of worry crept into your mind. How would you continue this relationship without anyone finding out? How could you possibly be with Marcus when your father would never allow it? Or worse, your father having you marry someone else?
Marcus brushed his fingers against your cheek, and it felt like he could read your mind. "We will find a solution, my love. I promise I will marry you and make you my wife," he whispered to soothe your fears.
The weight of Marcus' words settled heavily in your heart. The thought of being married to the man you loved filled you with joy and hope, yet the reality of it all seemed impossible.
"How could we possibly make that happen?" you asked, your voice laced with worry.
You couldn't help but feel a sense of doubt. How could someone as powerful and respected as General Marcus Acacius be able to marry someone like you? You were just a daughter of a nobleman, while he was one of the most influential men in the kingdom.
Marcus spoke with unwavering assurance, his gaze locked onto yours. As you looked back into his eyes, all your doubts and fears dissipated. You were certain that he would do anything to keep you safe and by his side. "We will find a way, my love. I will do whatever it takes to make you my wife."
"I believe in you," you said softly, placing a hand on his chest.
Marcus smiled and leaned in to kiss you again, his lips gentle and loving against yours. In that moment, everything else seemed to fade away except for the two of you.
"But we must be careful," Marcus reminded you, his tone serious once again. "We cannot let anyone find out about us until the time is right."
You nodded in agreement, understanding the risks that came with your relationship.
"We must also gain your father's approval," Marcus continued. "It won't be easy, but I am determined to prove myself worthy of you and your family."
You couldn't help but admire Marcus' determination and love for you. Despite the challenges ahead, he was willing to do anything to be with you.
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As the sun began to rise, you woke up in your room with a smile on your face. Today was the day that Marcus would finally meet with your father and ask for your hand in marriage. You could hardly believe the moment had arrived, the day you had dreamt of for so long.
Ever since he had first confessed his love for you, the two of you had been meeting in secret, stealing moments together whenever possible. The clandestine nature of your meetings had made your bond even stronger. The thought of being with Marcus made every challenge worth it.
You dressed carefully, choosing your finest gown, and adorned yourself with simple yet elegant jewelry. Your heart raced with anticipation as you made your way to the garden where the betrothal ceremony would take place. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a serene atmosphere.
In the garden, your father stood with Marcus, deep in conversation. The sight of them together filled you with a sense of pride and hope. Marcus, in his formal attire, looked every bit the honorable and powerful man that he was—a general respected by all of Rome.
Your father turned to you, his expression warm. "My dear daughter," he began, "today is a momentous day as the gods have blessed us. General Marcus Acacius has proven himself to be a man of honor and valor. It would be a great honor for our family to be united with his."
Marcus stepped forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "It is my greatest wish to make you my wife," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I promise to honor and protect you for all the days of my life."
The betrothal ceremony commenced, a formal ritual between your two families. Your father and Marcus exchanged respectful bows, symbolizing the joining of your households. Gifts were presented, and the dowry was discussed and agreed upon. A scribe stood by, ready to document the agreement in a written contract.
Marcus then produced a small, ornate box and opened it to reveal a beautiful finger ring. "This ring," he said, "is a symbol of my commitment to you, a tradition that stretches back through the ages."
He took your hand gently and slid the ring onto your finger, his touch sending a thrill through you. The ring was exquisite, a delicate band adorned with intricate engravings that spoke of ancient craftsmanship. 
"You honor me with this gift, Marcus," you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion.
Marcus smiled, his eyes full of warmth. "The honor is mine, my love."
With the ring in place, you turned to the scribe, who handed you both the written agreement. You signed your name carefully, your hand steady despite the whirlwind of emotions within you. Marcus signed next, his signature bold and confident.
Finally, the moment came to seal the betrothal with a kiss. Marcus stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. He cupped your face in his hands and leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, sweet kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that perfect moment.
As you pulled away, you saw the approval in your father's eyes and felt a rush of joy and relief. You were now betrothed to Marcus, the man you loved, and your future together was set.
"Let this day be the beginning of a lifetime of happiness," your father declared, his voice filled with emotion.
Marcus took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Together, we will face whatever the future holds," he promised.
And with that, your hearts intertwined, you knew that your love would endure, growing stronger with each passing day. The journey ahead was full of promise, and with Marcus by your side, you felt ready to embrace it all.
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1K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 5 months ago
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Hii I am making a Spencer Reid x citizen! F reader. They have been dating for a really long time but for a while reader has been dealing with a stalker, suddenly the stalker becomes much more violent and maybe even kidnaps her if we want to get real cray cray. Just lots of protective reid and angst to comfort!!
don't lose your head | S.R.
a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: professor!reader, fiance!spencer, erotomaniac stalker, lots of tudor history facts, kidnapping, decapitation, happy ending, s11 (post-maeve), guns, death, spencer feels a lot of guilt, unhelpful police, exhaustion, nausea, dry heaving word count: 3.71k a/n: yall if i wanted to make this into a series would you read it 😭 i had so much fun writing this!!! and yes the title is a reference to six! thank you sooo much for requesting!!
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you
You told Spencer after the fourth note. While the first two had been near your office door – harmless enough to have been brushed off as a student prank, the third note had been left on your desk. When someone had gotten into your locked office to leave you an intense love letter, you knew you were out of your depth.
After years of hearing stories about the BAU needing to battle the chain of command, you thought the best thing to do was to first go to the campus police. You were a professor, so the natural assumption was that they’d look into it.
They didn’t even take a report. No one listened to you.
From the campus police, you went into the city police, then the county, and by the time you marched into DC Metro, you hadn’t slept in a day. Spencer was in Utah on a case, and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Once DC Metro told you there was nothing they could do without an open investigation or further evidence, you went back to your apartment.
The fourth note was there waiting for you, covering the camera that you kept on your front door.
Since you had the first three notes already in your bag, you plucked the newest one from where it was stationed on the front door and stuffed it in with the others before making the trip down to Quantico.
You had no idea when the team would be back, but the security guards at the front desk recognized you from the times you’d come to pick Spencer up or bring him lunch and they let you up anyway.
There were no notifications on your phone from Spencer letting you know that they were flying home, but the only place you felt safe was in their headquarters. The idea of going to see Penelope crossed your mind, but as a profiler-adjacent, she’d likely see right through you. You never dropped by, especially not when Spencer was away.
Settling yourself at his desk, you pulled an empty manila folder from a drawer, placed the notes neatly inside, and left it on Spencer’s desk before sitting in his chair and waiting for something to happen.
“Hey, Reid,” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Slowly, you spun the chair around and looked at the team as they filtered in the glass doors.
Confused, Spencer tilted his head at you, clearly wondering why you were staking out the bullpen as he approached you. As he got closer, he observed the bags under your eyes, bloodshot from your lack of sleep over the last few days, “What’s wrong?”
Chewing on the inside of your lip, you clutched the folder like your life depended on it – for all you knew, it did. Your eyes followed Spencer as he knelt in front of you, accepting the folder when you handed it to him, “I think I’m in trouble,” you whispered, voice raspy from lack of use.
Your fiancé flipped through the pages, reading each of them a few times while you garnered attention from other members of the BAU. Tara, Derek, and JJ all crowded around Spencer’s desk, curious on your surprise appearance.
“I…” you faltered as you tried to explain what felt inexplicable. “The first one was folded over the doorknob of my office, the second one was slid beneath the door to my office, the third one was left on my desk, and the fourth one,” you glanced nervously at Spencer, “it was on the apartment door.”
Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, “apartment door? Our apartment door?” As he questioned you, he stood up, leaving you with four federal agents staring down at you.
Despondently, you nodded, steepling your fingers in your lap and letting your shoulders droop.
“I’ll go get Hotch,” JJ said, nodding at everyone else to confirm her intentions before turning around, making her way up the steps to Hotch’s office.
From there, you ended up in the roundtable room. Tara had personally brought the letters for the lab to be checked for prints, and the techs had sent Garcia scans that were now projected on the screen. Each member of the team had them up on tablets, but you and Spencer knew the words by heart.
Shaking her head, Tara looked up at everyone, “I mean, who writes like this anymore? ‘But if you please to do the office of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give yourself up body and heart to me, who will be, and have been, your most loyal servant,” she shrugged, continuing to look over the letters.
“They’re love letters,” you explained, tugging the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “The words aren’t original, they’re all passages from the love letters of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn.”
Pointing to something on her screen, JJ frowned, “And what does his greeting mean? He always starts with ‘my rose without a thorn’.”
Nodding dejectedly, you focused your eyes on the now-empty manila folder on the table in front of you. “That was what Henry VIII called Catherine Howard, she was his youngest wife. It’s widely accepted among scholars that she was around seventeen when they got married, but others say she could’ve been as young as fifteen,” you answered, wondering if more details would help the investigation.
“So, we have Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, which wives were those?” Rossi asked, looking around the table for someone who knew the answer.
In the middle of scrawling something on an evidence board, Spencer answered quickly, “Two and five.”
Folding your hands in your lap, you scoured your memory for anything that could be helpful. When Hotch asked if those numbers meant everything to you, you just shook your head. “Is there any significance to the two wives he chose being Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard?”
Your lips parted in surprise as the blood drained from your face, “They were the two wives who were beheaded.”
An eerie silence fell over the room, interrupted only by a chime from Penelope’s laptop, her shoulders slumped forward in abject disappointment, “The lab didn’t find anything on the letters. No prints, no hair… nothing, but uh…” her voice trailed off as she looked up at Hotch, it was almost like she was seeking permission.
Each member of the BAU looked at each other with the same concerned expression on their faces. “What do you all know that I don’t?”
“Two bodies turned up last week in the greater DC area,” Morgan was the brave soul who spoke up, “they were both missing their heads, and they were both college professors.”
Goosebumps spread over your entire body, a chill of fear causing the tip of your nose to feel cold, “Oh, I…” you fumbled over your words, standing up from your chair and rushing to leave the roundtable, nearly throwing yourself out of the bullpen on your way to the women’s restroom.
Entering one of the stalls, you haphazardly gathered your hair at the back of your head and you dry heaved into the toilet. You dropped to your knees as nothing came out.
A knock at the door barely garnered your attention, you didn’t even bother responding as Spencer was already entering the stall, “Oh, honey.”
That was it, you sat back on your heels as tears welled in your eyes, looking up at Spencer as he sat down next to you. Immediately, you turned your body to face him and leaned forward.
Welcomingly, Spencer grabbed you, firmly wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you into his lap, “I have you. I’m right here.” His voice was gentle, no more than a whisper as he kept a firm pressure around your body, “You’re safe with me,” he reassured you, using one hand to keep you upright and the other to rub your back as you cried.
Your face was buried in the crook of his neck as you wept, the sensation of fear ran through your body like electricity, and you felt content for the first time in days in the safety of Spencer’s arms. “I- I just teach. I’m n- not built for this,” you cried, words slightly muffled by his shoulder.
You were a history professor, teaching a course on the six wives of Henry VIII, this was never even in the realm of things you considered when putting together your syllabus.
Taking a shaky breath, you pulled away from Spencer, and he reached behind you for a wad of toilet paper to dry your face. “Spence,” you said, though it came out as more of a whimper.
“When’s the last time you slept?” He asked, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands while he studied your exhausted expression.
Shrugging, you shuffled off of him, dropping the wad of toilet paper in the bowl and flushing it, “A day? Two?” You weren’t entirely sure what day it currently was, the events of the last few had caused everything to sort of blend together.
Spencer nodded in understanding, “Okay,” he responded, slipping his phone out of his pocket before typing something out, “Why don’t you go lie down in Morgan’s office for a little while? He won’t mind.”
You blinked a few final tears from your eyes before affirming, “Yeah, uh. I need to grab something from my car.”
“Okay, are you parked in the garage? I’ll go down with you,” he offered, getting up and lending you a hand up, mumbling about the state of the bathroom floor as he did so.
After washing your hands, the two of you made your way through the hall and to the elevator before Garcia called out for Reid, “Hotch needs you for something, he said it’s urgent.”
Glancing back at you, he pursed his lips before selecting a lower-level special agent to go with you to the parking garage. “Be right back,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator.
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him
Once he was finished with Hotch, Spencer made his way back down the hallway, expecting to find yourself settling in Morgan’s office only to find it empty. Turning back in the hallway, he nearly bulldozed into Morgan and JJ, “Hey, what’s the rush?”
“Have either of you seen Y/N?” He asked, trying not to let panic rise in his voice, but there had been ample time for you to get to the parking garage and back. You should’ve been back by now.
The two of them shared a look, “Uh, no, I haven’t seen her since she left the roundtable room. Is she alright?” JJ asked, blue eyes filled with concern.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, Spencer hit the number one on speed dial – your number – and brought the phone to his ear before rushing to the elevator and moving to the side as JJ and Morgan piled in with him. Frantically pushing the button for the parking level, he cursed as the phone went to voicemail.
“Reid, what is it?” Morgan asked as the elevator started moving down.
Redialing your number, Spencer muttered to himself, hoping you’d pick up, “I sent her down with an agent. Hotch needed my apartment key so that Tara and Rossi could go look for anything.”
As the steel doors opened, the three of them drew their firearms, each of them taking a different direction when Spencer realized he didn’t even know where you had parked your car. “We have an agent down,” Morgan called out, calling Garcia and putting the phone on speaker. “Baby girl, we need medical and crime scene techs down to the lower-level parking garage,” he said into the phone.
“Spencer,” JJ called out, garnering his attention as he made his way through the garage to where JJ and Morgan were now stood, Morgan was applying pressure on Agent Franks’ wound, and JJ was looking at a car.
The passenger door to your car was open, and the vehicle was chiming as an alert to get you to close the door. As he stepped forward, something glimmered at the edge of his vision. Crouching down, he picked up your engagement ring from the cement, “He’s got her,” he said, a wave of déjà vu nearly toppling him over.
Impatiently waiting for the elevator to take him back up to the sixth floor, Spencer trudged to the roundtable room, desperate for another look at the evidence board. The dates of each letter that you had received, the content of each letter, and the reason for all of this didn’t make any sense to him.
It had to be an erotomaniac, it was the only thing that made sense. You were an object of someone’s desires, and their delusion had to have become so strong that they took you.
Quietly, someone stepped into the roundtable room behind him, “What are you thinking about?”
Imminent death. Statistics of harm and death in cases involving erotomanic kidnappings. “Synchronicity,” he answered simply, entertaining JJ’s conversation as he continued to study the letters. The love letters were at the core of it all, so the answer needed to be written in there. Everything that had come to you was almost an exact copy of words written by Henry VIII.
“Ah, that’s Jung, right?” JJ asked, her voice was kind, and she was using the same tone she used when doing cognitive interviews with victims. He didn’t have time for her pity, they were on a clock.
Sighing, Spencer picked his dry-erase marker back up and scrawled on the board, “It’s a concept that he introduced, yes. It’s meant to describe the occurrence of events which seem like they’re significantly related but there’s no discernable causation.”
JJ nodded understandingly, taking a spot next to him and looking at the notes, “And what occurrence of events are we thinking about right now?”
“I suppose more than anything, I’m wondering if there’s an action that I took in the past that somehow caused me to find myself in this situation twice,” he answered, circling the word ‘the place chosen by yourself’ on the evidence board.
Humming, JJ turned to face him, “Does Y/N know?”
Pressing his lips together in a thin, white line, he nodded tightly, “I told her years ago, when we had first started dating, actually. I never thought…” his voice trailed off as he set down the marker, “She came to me, JJ. She came here to be safe, and he grabbed her from the parking garage.”
“You sent her down there with an agent, you thought you were doing the right thing,” JJ tried to comfort him.
Scoffing dismissively, he stepped back and took a seat in one of the chairs, “I can’t stop thinking about if it would’ve made a difference. If her asking me for help would have fixed anything, or if it would have ended the same way.”
Taking a seat near him, JJ paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before responding, “We can’t really afford to think like that though, in our line of work.”
Spencer scoffed, “No, we can’t. Especially not now, but the timing of it is weird. It’s been almost exactly four years, and now…” his voice trailed off as his eye caught on something on the paper. “The timing is off,” he muttered, picking up the first letter you had received.
“What is it, Spence?” JJ asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.
Shaking his head, he read the letter again, “This letter, it’s from the first letter Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn, but in this version, he says he’s been waiting for months to be with her, but they waited seven years to be together because they were waiting for his marriage to Catherine of Aragon to be annulled.”
Still confused, JJ leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “Okay, what does that mean.”
“We ruled out a student because the crimes didn’t read as mature, but what if it’s a different kind of student?” He proposed, standing up from the chair abruptly and starting to write on the board.
Rolling her chair closer to the board, she shrugged, “I’m not sure I’m following.”
Holding up a single finger, Spencer wrote a name down on the board, “Y/N has a grad student TA, he’s been working toward his PhD for seven years. He’s been her TA for three months – that lines up with the timeline in the letters.”
“Okay,” JJ said, starting to follow along, she waved at the team members in the bullpen to get their attention before hitting the call button on the conference phone. “Penelope, what do you have on a Geoffrey Williamson? He’s a TA in Y/N’s class.”
There was typing on the other line before a sound of disgust came from the technical analyst, “He is a different kind of smarmy, it looks like he transferred programs two years ago to Y/N’s university after he… oh. It looks like he bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, his parents never fully gave up their rights but couldn’t follow through on their case plan. He was unsuccessful in his last dissertation defense three months ago,” she continued clacking on her keyboard, “after which his mentor teacher dropped him and the school gave him one more semester before pulling his funding. He asked Y/N to be his new mentor teacher and it looks like she turned him down -very nicely, might I add.”
Scoffing, Morgan crossed his arms in front of his chest, “That sounds like a stressor and a trigger if I’ve ever heard one.
“Garcia,” Hotch spoke into the phone, “Do you have a location for Williamson?”
There was more typing as Spencer could feel his carotid pounding in his throat, “It looks like he lives in student housing, but… he recently inherited an old factory after his biological father passed away two weeks ago.”
Nodding, Hotch looked around the table, “Send us the address, and forward it to Rossi and Lewis too.”
“Done, go get her,” Penelope urged into the phone before hanging up.
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He slipped your engagement ring into his pocket before adjusting the strap on his Kevlar, thrumming with nervous energy as Morgan coordinated with SWAT, waiting outside of the old textile factory as the tactical team organized themselves in front of the BAU.
Spencer and JJ took the left side, Rossi and Tara took the right, and Morgan and Hotch went through the main doors.
“No!” Your voice broke out through the steel corridors of the factory, immediately followed by a yelp.
There was an awful noise then, like metal scraping against itself, “Fucking say it!” An unfamiliar male voice broke out in a holler.
Steeling himself, Spencer had to hold himself back from rushing into the room where your voice was coming from, each one of your sobs was like another strike at his resolve. “Good Christian people,” he heard you say, your voice was strained, “I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to- to-“ Your voice broke off into a heap of wails.
“What is she saying?” JJ whispered, waiting for SWAT to clear the corridor.
All of the blood had drained from Spencer’s face, “She’s reciting Anne Boleyn’s execution speech, from right before she was beheaded.”
JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation – they needed to get in there, and they needed to do it quickly. SWAT waved them over, and the two of them filtered through the open doorway. The space was dimly illuminated by candles, but the only thing Spencer could focus on was your head, bowed toward the ground as you watched the ground. Above you, Geoffrey was holding a sword, ready to cut your head off.
“Geoffrey Williamson, FBI!” JJ called out, announcing themselves to the UnSub before he could get any further in his convoluted execution, “Put the sword down! Let Y/N go.”
Spencer clocked the UnSub’s grip tightening on the sword as he zeroed in on you, “I can’t! She has to pay for this! She has to finish the speech.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but as you raised your head slightly, he found himself silenced by your gaze. Roll, he mouthed the words to you, hoping Williamson was too focused on JJ to notice what he was trying to tell you.
“And by the law I am judged to die,” you continued the speech, your voice wavering.
Taking a deep breath, Spencer watched as the UnSub raised the sword despite JJ’s instructions to set it on the ground, “Y/N, stop talking!”
Releasing another sob, you finished the execution speech, “And therefore I will speak nothing against it.”
As soon as the last word was out of your mouth, Williamson brought the sword down, and as it swung, two things happened. JJ pulled the trigger on her firearm, killing the UnSub, and you rolled out of the way, the chains that bound your hands and feet clanging on the ground as you did so.
Holstering his weapon, Spencer ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, “It’s done. It’s over,” he tried to reassure you, but you had begun struggling against your restraints as Spencer tried to settle you down, “Stop, it’s me, baby. Baby, it’s me,” he said desperately.
Once you had maneuvered yourself into a sitting position, you looked at Spencer with big, watery eyes before completely breaking down. “I just wanted it to end,” you babbled as your face crumpled.
“I know, honey,” he said, reaching out to pull you close as JJ contacted the rest of the team, asking for a chain cutter to get your restraints off of you as they weren’t able to find the keys on the body. “He’s gone, you’re safe,” he urged, holding you tightly.
You weren’t seriously injured, but there were enough bumps and bruises to make Spencer insist on a trip to the hospital. Until the EMTs could make it to you, he was fine with holding you on the floor of the factory. Keeping you close. Keeping you safe with him.
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