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kasagia · 6 months

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Right hand

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You were his right-hand (wo)man after he saw you in combat during your training on the Bene Gesserit. He freed you from them and turned you from a Bene Gesserit into a faithful soldier who took care of all his dirty business. Getting rid of the bodies of the people he killed, organising opponents for him to fight, poor people on whom he could vent his anger and desire for bloodshed, or even concubines. You were his eyes and ears in the baron's court. You reported everything to him, being more effective than any Bene Gesserit. But he wants more... much more. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; bathing together; dagger play; breeding kink? I guess; a lot things happening; my first time for Feyd so I'm a little nervous😅; enjoy!; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~

It wasn't your choice to undergo Bene Gesserit training. Your mother abandoned you when you were a little baby and took you to these terrible women, leaving you to their mercy.

You hated them. Their entire organisation, which included planned breeding, aimed at creating the Kwisatz Haderach. To you, these women were a sick cult that you were reluctant to be a part of. You trembled with fear, thinking of the day when they would send you to extend the genetic line of a nobel family by lending your womb or to ensure that their plans succeeded.

However, you realised that you had little say in the matter. The Bene Gesserit would find you anywhere if you tried to run and hide. You were doomed to follow the orders of your crazy old reverend mother and wait in fear for the day when you could prove your usefulness.

But one day, you crossed paths with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And for a very long time, you considered it a real gift from fate. The first happy turn of events in your tragic life.

He was on a diplomatic mission. He was being shown around by the princess of your planet, and they happened to be attending the training of the Bene Gesserit sisters. You immediately caught his attention. Your movements were smoother, full of the passion of a true warrior. You charmed him so much that, at first, he thought you had put a spell on him. After seeing your potential and your obvious dislike for your sisters, he took you with him to Giedi Prime.

He faked your death so the Bene Gesserit sisters wouldn't come looking for you. He made you his right hand, his most trusted soldier. It was only after years of service under the Na-Baron that you realised that you had entered a much worse hell than any plans the Bene Gesserit had for you.

Feyd Rautha was supposed to be your personal devil. But first, you saw him as your saviour.

An animalistic, bloodthirsty scream resounds throughout the na-baron's private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow she received from the furious man. You enter the room just as Feyd pierces him with his sword, causing drops of blood to land on your face.

You wipe them away, undeterred by the na-baron's brutality. Years of service had accustomed you to all the acts of cruelty he was capable of. At least this time, the dead man's entrails didn't spill around him. You hated calling his harpies to the feast. Despite so many years spent at the side of the baron's favourite nephew, you never got used to his concubines. They made you feel strangely uneasy.

"My lord, na-baron." You say, announcing your presence. Feyd breathes heavily and shifts his mad, furious gaze to you, not noticing your entrance until you speak.

You walk past the body, avoiding the pool of blood, and hand him a towel. He takes it from you without a word, wiping the sweat and blood from his head, chest, and back. You ignore his exposed muscles and kneel next to the man on whom he took out his anger, preparing to carry him out of the room before the next opponent/toy shows up.

"You were right. That old fool entrusted Arrakis to my brother. He will embarrass our family in one day. Ha! Even half is enough for him! This wretch doesn't know how to manage a small province, let alone an entire planet with fremen ready to attack at any corner." He says, rubbing himself furiously. He throws a towel into the corner of the room and walks to the table to pour himself something to drink.

"He gives him a chance to prove himself. When he wastes it, you will get it and prove to the baron and the lords that you are rightfully entitled to the title of baron." You say, securing the body so the guards at the door can carry it out.

"Every fool knows that. It's obvious that I'm a better choice than this scoundrel, who will sell the secrets of our family and swear allegiance to anyone who threatens his life. Baron throws a party in his honor. To the success of his mission. He's just doing it to piss me off. He doesn't give a damn about Rabban or whether he succeeds. This is just another of his tests on me. That's why you're coming with me. I've already sent for a dress for you." You look up at him with your surprised gaze. You're even more shocked when he reaches out his hand to help you up—something you didn't expect from him in his white, burning rage state.

"A dress?" You ask, taking his hand. You hold your breath, keeping yourself from gasping, as he lifts you off the floor with one strong pull. Unprepared, you bump completely onto his chest, not being able to keep your balance.

You freeze at the feeling of his muscled body close to yours. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline he felt while killing this poor man. You tense up, seeing his icy-blue eyes already staring at yours. He starts giggling darkly as he presses you tighter against him so you can feel every muscle of his.

"Is there a problem? Would you prefer to come naked? I wouldn't mind, but…”

"I'm simply surprised that you want me there officially. I usually sneak there. I watch from the shadows. Well, you know." You interrupt me before he can insinuate anything, and with his silent permission, you move a decent distance away from him, leaving his arms.

You always had to be careful when making moves like this. You saw how he punished for minor offences, just for breathing. And you didn't run away from the Bene Gesserit with him to lose your life because of one of his… impulses. Although he has never put you in any serious danger, which was strangly amazing, since all of the servants who worked for him (and are still alive) have experienced his wrath on their bodies at least once.

"I know. But this time, I need you by my side. Not in hiding. My birthday is coming up—the most important of them all. I want to know what my uncle will come up with. Maybe you can find out something from the Lords. Besides, why wouldn't I want to have such beauty on my arm?"

"You want a woman by your side so you can humiliate your brother before he leaves? Perpetuate in him a sense of belief that you are superior, even if you don't have power over Arrakis right now?"

You see his hands tighten on his blades. You purse your lips, realising you were too quick to question his intentions. Basic mistake. You shouldn't have tested the waters when you knew Feyd was already on the end of his patience.

He takes a step towards you, entering your personal space. You swallow and lift your head to meet his gaze. This wasn't the first time he had intimidated you, tested you, carefully gauged your reaction, and waited until he finally saw the fear in your eyes. But you never gave him that satisfaction. If the Bene Gesserit taught you anything, it was that fear was weakness. A weakness you could tame... at least enough not to show it to anyone else.

So you endure his piercing, burning gaze with indifference. You stay like that even after a small smirk starts to appear on his face. You wonder how many people before you saw that smirk and stared into those night-black eyes on Giedi Prime as they passed from this world.

"That pink little tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day, my little witch." He purrs, his tone low and dangerous. He reaches up to your face with his free hand and gently runs his hand through your hair, caressing your cheek and jaw with the pad of his thumb. "Possible. I'm a na-baron... don't I deserve the best?" He looks defiantly at you, throwing you the proverbial gauntlet. He's waiting for you to stumble. For open defiance of his order.

You don't understand why, but he's been acting like this more and more lately. He made ambiguous comments, carefully watching your reaction. It was something new—a change in his behaviour that you hadn't figured out the reason for yet. But you had too much on your mind to think about it any longer.

"I can prepare you a beautiful concubine perfect for Giedi Prime standards." You suggest at which he shakes his head, laughing hoarsely. He turns his back to you and pours himself another glass of water.

"It's not necessary. I want you. Go and get ready. I'll join you in two hours when I'm done here." He says just as the door opens to reveal the soldiers you called for to take the body away and who have brought him a new drugged opponent. Feyd licks his lips, flips the blade up, and catches it, making a little show before lunging at his toy.

"As you wish, my na-baron." You say before leaving him to get ready for the party. Another warrior's scream echoes off the walls of the chamber as Feyd unleashes his anger on him.

You scan the room carefully, standing with your glass against the wall in a more crowded part of the room. You try your best to blend in with the crowd, but with your hair down, it's not that easy. Even if you try to cover your hair, you can feel people's curious gazes on you. But the worst ones are the burning gazes of the lords on you, some of them too lustful to be able to feel comfortable.

If you could, you would hide in the shadows, as usual, and observe them without being the centre of attention. You felt like a monkey in a circus or an exotic animal at an exhibition. The cold hand on your shoulder reminds you why you can't do this. You turn around to once again meet the na-baron's intense gaze today.

"You look good." He says as his eyes carefully scan the black latex dress with cutouts on the sides that reach down to your hipbones. "But I don't remember having that metal corset disguised as armour and that ridiculous chain veil sent to you along with the dress."

"I almost mistook this rag for a nightgown. I had to wear something on it. They think I'm your whore anyway; we don't have to prove it to them." You respond to his taunt and turn towards him. He is wearing black, formal armour, which is perfect as an official outfit.

"Do you find it scandalous to be my whore, little witch? Maybe even disgusting?" You meet his gaze to roll your eyes at him, at which he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don't like this closeness, but there's nothing you can do to push his hand off of you. You are in public. Such a gesture towards him would be equivalent to a death sentence.

"I see nothing... honourable or good in being anyone's whore, my na-baron." You say, gently moving away from him so as not to lean on him as much.

"Have you seen anything noteworthy?" He asks, unfazed by your trying to move away from him. He pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter and making your back rest against his chest. His fingertips brush against the exposed skin, caressing your hipbone.

You frown, turning your head to look at him. He's never been so... clingy before. He always respected your personal space and never touched you. You blame it on his desire to tease his brother, who is staring at you intently from across the room, and you shift your gaze to the people present at the party.

"Several lords congratulated your brother. However, there are rumours and beliefs that he will not be up to the task. Some also believe that you will slit his throat before his ship leaves for Arrakis."

"This idea crossed my mind. If you hadn't brought this information to me earlier, you would probably have had to deal with making the public believe in his… tragic and sudden death from natural causes."

"Natural causes; I wish I could see that." You scoff, finishing your drink. You turn around, leaving his arms, and set your glass down on the table. When you turn to him again, he holds out his hand for you to take.

"You'll see if you don't entertain me. I'm bored, and looking at this smug idiot isn't helping my patience or my ability to restrain myself. Dance with me, my little witch."

"You're interrupting my work." You complain, taking his hand. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you around, pulling you tight against his chest. He holds you close to him, perfectly placing his steps and moving to the beat of the music. He is as fluid in dancing as he is in fighting. Flawless as always.

"I'm your work. You are my right hand; you meet all my needs. I don't think I need to remind you of that, do I?" He asks in challenge, taking your chin between his two fingers as he looks at you carefully. You only smile at him in a sweet, artificial way. He laughs, fully aware of how fake this act is, and drops your chin.

Over the years, you discovered that he liked it when you teased him and responded to his taunts with your own. Of course, only when no one could hear it, and not very often. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't afford for anyone to see his right-hand (wo)man mocking him. Unbeknownst to you, he found it adorable the way your eyes lit up whenever you did something mischievous.

"Of course not, my na-baron."

"Good." He nods at your words. He takes his eyes off you for a moment and focuses on something behind your shoulder. He leans down, his cheek brushing against yours. You shiver at the sudden closeness, his scent becoming more distinct as you inhale it wholeheartedly. It's captivating. Sweet. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Just like him. "Do you have your daggers?" His hot whisper reaches your ear. He's so close, you can almost feel his full lips brush against your earlobe.

"Yes, why?" You ask, perfectly masking the tremble in your voice. But you doubt whether you can hide from him how your heartbeat speeds up. You blame it on the adrenaline rush. Not fear caused by his proximity.

"It seems to me that you will soon have to prove to these imbeciles once again why I chose you to be my right-hand man." He explains as the song ends.

You feel him reluctantly release you from his embrace and take a step away from you. You turn around and see his brother walking towards you, his right hand following him, giving you a mischievous look and a lecherous, mocking smile when he sees your outfit. You straighten up, lifting your head proudly at the man in a similar position to yours. The difference between you was that you served the stronger Harkonnen. It would give you an inviolably higher position if, like them, you had a penis between your legs.

"Brother. You finally brought your pet to play with us." Rabban says, nodding to his brother. You feel a wave of disgust as his gaze lingers on you longer.

Feyd tenses, furious, as his brother's eyes are all on you. You wouldn't have noticed if his hand hadn't been on your hip bone a moment later, hiding some of your exposed skin from his brother's eyes. You wonder what his problem might be. After all, he chose this dress for you by himself.

"Be careful. She doesn't have a muzzle. I would prefer that no harm come to you before you go to Arrakis. She's got some pretty... sharp teeth." He says it condescendingly, pulling you closer to him. In a perfect world, you'd kick them both in the groin. Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury. You can only imagine putting these two pseudo-alpha males in their place. But how sweet these dreams are...

"What about a small competition? My man against yours? Let's see what this mysterious beauty that you keep hidden can really do." Rabban's right-hand man gives you a cocky, confident look. He plays with the dagger in his hand, making a poor show that was intended to intimidate you. You roll your eyes behind your metal chain veil and shift your gaze to Feyd. You are only subject to his orders. Not some weak, pathetic creatures.

"This party is already dead. Do you want to kill also YOUR pet?" Feyd mocks him, and you almost break your unflappable, emotionless attitude, barely holding back your laughter. Na-baron sees this and smiles to himself, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hipbone.

"Are you afraid that she won't heat your bed anymore?" Feyd narrows his eyes at him. You feel his fingertips dig painfully into your hip as he tries to keep himself from lunging at his brother with the blade. You know full well that the eyes of the lords, the baron, and most of the people at the party are turned towards you.

"I have no doubt whatsoever about the outcome of this little skirmish. She will just sweat unnecessarily. And I would rather have her in full strength tonight." He says it in a mocking tone, shifting his gaze towards you. He licks his lips and tightens his grip to make his lewd intentions towards you clear to the two men.

Despite his famous reputation, he never touched you. Giedi Prime society might have thought otherwise, but in the years you had served as his right-hand man, he had never once taken you to bed or had you entertain him at night. You appreciated it immensely, which is why you accepted such behaviour from him without batting an eyelid whenever you were in public. It was all a game to maintain the reputation he had built over the years. Or so you thought.

"Feyd, boy, release your pet. Let her entertain us." The baron's words interrupt any skirmish that might have developed between the brothers.

It was not uncommon at Giedi Prime parties for soldiers to fight against each other to entertain the crowd. You just didn't think that you would have to fight someone during your first official arrival at the party. Although you should have anticipated such an unexpected turn of events. The baron and Rabban would not miss the opportunity to find out how much you were really worth and why Feyd, out of all the talented soldiers, chose the Bene Gesserit as his right-hand man.

You send a quick glance at Feyd. He gives you a small nod, so you bow to the baron and prepare to fight. The crowd around you parts to form a circle. You feel people's excitement as you flip the metal chains from your face to your hair, revealing more of your face. You wrap the shawl around your hair, tying it tighter and making sure it won't get in the way of your fight.

You look at your opponent, who is also preparing, trying to spot any of his weak points before the fight even begins. Rabban says something in his ear, which causes the manly smile to grow. Feyd stands in front of you, blocking your view of them. You look into his steel blue eyes as he leans towards you.

"Don't hold back." He whispers in your ear, handing you his blade. "And finish it quickly. We have other things to do."

You nod at him. He walks away from you, sending a mocking smirk at your opponent. He spreads his arms, taking a few steps back, as if inviting him to try his hand at you. You feel the burning gaze of his eyes on your back as you position yourself in front of the man.

"Don't worry, witch. If I win, I won't kill you. It's a shame to waste such a pretty face. I wonder if you're as good as the rumours say. Your pussy must be good to keep the na-baron entertained for so long." He says, waiting for you to activate your shield. But you don't do this. You want to completely humiliate him and give everyone in the room a clear message about your power and that you didn't secure your place just by having a pretty face. The crowd cheers, but you think you can hear Feyd growl furiously amidst the shouts of approval.

"I doubt you'll have the chance to find out." You say, and without waiting for his next words, you attack.

After the first few attacks, you figure out his tactics. He is physically strong, it's true, but that's his only advantage. It attacks you in a learned way, repeating its patterns. You read him quickly and position yourself to use his strength and mass against him. You could have walked up to him a long time ago and slit his throat, but you know it would be much better if you had some fun with him. You will show that you have complete control over the course of this fight.

You dodge the man's punches, and after a few minutes, you quickly get bored when you once again manage to kick him and send him to his knees. You take advantage of the moment he gets up from the floor to glance at your na-baron. Feyd doesn't look happy with your introduction. Of course, you see his interested look and how he appreciates your skills, but he doesn't look at you like he usually does. He doesn't wait with bated breath for your next move, like the crowd around you does. You can tell from his face that he wants you to finish this as soon as possible. You frown, surprised that he of all people doesn't enjoy watching the fight. You wonder what the hell is wrong with him.

Your moment of inattention is, of course, immediately exploited by your opponent. You manage to fend off the man's blade, but not his kick, which sends you landing on your butt on the floor. You feel rage more than pain; you only see red when you hear the cocky laugh of the man you are fighting with. You're so focused on driving the blade into his body that you don't notice Feyd's angry look, the murder in his eyes, and the desire to rip your opponent apart with his own hands as you fall to the floor. And you certainly don't see the trembling of his hand, as he instinctively wanted to grab you and pull you safely behind him.

You strike once, quickly driving the blade into the man's stomach and leaving it there. You push him to his knees, push away the hand that holds the sword, and reach for the dagger hidden in the sleeve of your dress. You strike a second time, piercing his shoulder. You stick the second dagger into his hand and knock the weapon out of his hand, taking it from him. You grab the man's throat in a tight grip and tilt his head back. You lean over him, a mocking smirk on your face as he struggles to breathe.

"I didn't even take off my high heels." You mocked him as you slit his throat.

You smile victoriously as you decapitate him. His head rolls at your feet, blood splattering your dress and face as you breathe heavily. You sigh, feeling your heart pound in your chest, as you bow to the crowd surrounding you as they shout and applaud you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban's sour, angry expression. You kick the head of his right hand towards him and give him a small smirk. You stand upright as you meet the eyes of your na-baron.

And then you saw it. Hunger in his eyes. Pure lust and desire, as his pupils were wide and solemnly focused on you.

You knew that gaze. He only looked like that at things he really wanted. Only his favourite concubines got THAT look from him or a beautiful, precisely made weapon that fit perfectly in his hands. Usually he had that look in his eyes right after the great battle he won. He would lock himself with his concubines and then spend long hours in his chambers, giving himself completely to his primal instincts.

You shiver as he walks towards you, ignoring anything else in the room. He grabs you tightly by the throat, and, to the delight of the drunken crowd who are screaming madly with excitement after the show you had made, he kisses you.

It is hard, hungry, and passionate. His hand completely removes the metal chains and shawl that were covering your head, and he pulls you to him as close as possible. His grip on your hair and throat is tight as he demands that your mouth be opened for him by biting your lower lip. You moan involuntarily, causing his tongue to slip into your mouth, as he is exploring new territory with a zeal you've never seen from him.

He pulls away from you when you're completely out of breath. Your vision is blurry, your heart is pounding from the adrenaline of the fight, and you can only stare at him stupidly and blankly while trying to understand what just happened.

Your eyes widen as he licks his lips, lust still burning in his eyes as he takes in your panting form and swollen, red lips. A trickle of blood drips from your mouth after he bit into it a few minutes ago. As you taste your blood on your tongue, you realise the terrifying truth.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen desired you.

Feyd strokes your neck, which is still in his tight grip. His eyes travel from your lips to your neck, to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, and to your hips, which were starting to bruise from how tightly he held them in the moments before your fight. Suddenly, everything starts to fall into place for you. His strange, unusual behaviour, the flirtatious comments, the long stares, and his more frequent attempts to hold you close to him and touch your exposed skin are starting to make sense.

You were screwed.

Completely and utterly fucked up.

You've been avoiding him since that night. More than any Reverend Mother or Bene Gesserit. Which was a very difficult task, considering how many things you had to do as his right hand.

But, luckily, you managed to avoid being alone with him. Of course, it couldn't last long. You knew him very well, and you knew that eventually he would try something and come for you. But you tried to deceive yourself by living the lie that his desire would pass and his concubines would effectively take care of him.

If he noticed your attempts to stay away from him, he never mentioned it. Of course, he chased after you when he saw you walking alone down the hall, but you never gave him a chance to catch up with you. He may have grown up here, but you knew the palace like the back of your hand. And all the nooks and crannies you could hide in from him.

So you actually managed not to get close to him for a very long time. Until it was time to train a unit of soldiers directly subordinate to him.

"Y/N!!!" You're sure all of Giedi Prime could have heard his scream. You sigh, calming down as you continue your walk to the arena. You step out into the black sun, carefully watching the men training. You walk up to him and bow to him.

"My lord na-baron." You say it politely, unfazed by the fact that he's practically seething with rage. You were more used to dealing with him like this than when he was horny... or worse, kind. You would turn on your shield if you knew it wouldn't make him fall over the edge and start murdering everyone he could.

"Take your blade. None of these piles of useless muscles know basic defensive moves. Look, you all! You have to learn this by the end of the day, or next time you will enter this arena as my opponent!" He walks over to one of them, probably to either stab him or adjust his position, leaving you to get ready. You tie your hair up so it doesn't bother you during a fight and choose your blade.

You gasp in surprise when you are suddenly pushed. You turn around quickly, trying to keep your balance as you face the na-baron. You move your hand to activate your shield, but his voice stops you:

"Don't. I have to show them how to do it. No shield." You know he's lying, and that's not why he doesn't want you to turn on your shield, but you don't say anything. You just nod and prepare to get into a defensive position.

He attacks you quickly. Very quickly. You've trained with him before, and you have to admit, he's never been this… brutal with you.

You go through different positions with him until you finally stop following the textbook fighting patterns and start fighting seriously. You keep up with his movements for a long time, blocking his blade with yours and dodging attacks that you have no physical ability to block, but he keeps pressing against you, not letting you rest or trying to return the favour with one of your attacks.

You gasp in surprise when he trips you, sending you to the ground. You block his swing at you with your blade and kneel in the sand, trying to get up, but he's pressing too hard against you with his sword for you to move. You use all your strength to push him away from you. Feyd growls, throwing his sword aside, and simply lunges at you. You're too shocked to do anything as he snatches the blade from your hand and sits on top of you.

You fight him, sending both of you rolling in the sand. Eventually, he gets impatient and wraps his hand around your throat. You take a hoarse breath as he blocks your airway. You grab his hand around your neck and try to pull it away. You dig your nails into his palm, but he remains unmoved, pinning you to the sand.

He leans closer to you, and you take the opportunity to wrap your hand around his neck. He laughs, showing you his black teeth as he practically lays on top of you. His erection presses hard against your thigh as he grinds against you, grunting as he too begins to feel the need for air... and something more. You see black spots in front of your eyes, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe.

You let go of his neck completely, your hand falling next to your head, and you desperately try to use the remaining air to try and use your Bene Gesserit voice on him. But before you try to say anything, he loosens his grip so you can breathe, but his fingers are still lightly holding your neck.

Too busy breathing, you don't notice how he tilts his face towards you. Only when you feel his tongue on your neck do you realise how close he is to you. You freeze when he runs his tongue from your neck, from jaw to cheek, to taste your tears. You hear him moan softly. To confirm that your brain, stunned by lack of oxygen, didn't make it all up on its own, he rubs against you, and his hardness in his pants is clearly felt by you.

You just fucking hope he doesn't fuck you in front of those soldiers.

You meet his black eyes with yours. You shiver as he leans in, his bare chest pressed completely against you as he whispers into your ear.

"Damn you, witch... if you taste as sweet as your tears..." He growls. You feel dizzy, and you're not sure if it's because of the heat of the moment, the fact that he cut you off from oxygen for a while, or because you're overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth that radiates from the two of you.

You thank whoever is above you as he finally pulls away from you and stands up. He gives you his hand and helps you stand on your two feet. The soldiers obediently look at the ground, not daring to face the na-baron's gaze. You swallow hard, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Feyd barks orders at them, herding them back to training. You breathe a sigh of relief when he stops paying attention to you. You use your shawl to wipe his saliva and your sweat from your neck. You take your blade and are about to leave the arena to do the rest of your duties. But a tight grip on your wrist stops you. You tense up and turn around to face him again.

"Y/N." He murmurs, watching you carefully. You're sure that bruises are starting to appear on your neck from his tight squeeze. "Come to my chambers tonight." A cold shiver runs through you, but all you can do is nod and watch his retreating figure as he leaves to continue the training.

You hoped he didn't mean what you thought he meant by that... invitation. Otherwise, this could be your last night on Giedi Prime or the last night of your life. You're not sure yet.

For the first time, you feel fear as you walk to his chambers. He had called for you at such times before, but it never occurred to you that he wanted to do with you something else than discuss with you matters that were related to the Giedi Prime Court, the baron's plans, or other political matters and plots.

You shudder, wondering what might be waiting behind that door. You saw the condition in which some of his concubines left him. You didn't want to become one of them; you didn't want to be reduced to being his lover. It was fine as it was. You felt very good as his shadow, ears, and eyes. You liked conspiring together with him, making plans, and that hrill each time you managed to take down the enemies that were standing in your way. He was supposed to be your savior, not your persecutor. Were you that naive from the beginning, or has everything started going to shit recently?

The guards let you through without saying a word. With your heart pounding, you enter his chambers.

He's sitting on the bed. His harpies finish taking off his clothes, and at first you want to back away, but as soon as his gaze meets yours, you freeze. Feyd snaps at one of them. She hands him a glass of his wine while the others look at you furiously.

"Leave." He tells them, never taking his eyes off you. The women look at each other, not wanting to leave him, especially leave him alone with you. You guess that if it weren't for Feyd's presence, they would have attacked you long ago, trying to eat you before their master got a chance to touch you. Disgust arouses in you as you think that you may be soon reduced to their role and turned into one of them. "I said something." He growls at them, shifting his gaze from you to give them an angry glare.

The harpies are going out obediently, but they are not wasting an opportunity to hiss at you as they pass you to get to the exit. You hear one of them scream in pain as Feyd suddenly throws a knife at them right before they close the door behind them.

You were more used to his brutal reflexes than to his tender gestures. You actually preferred him being aggressive more. At least you could have predicted his movement. That's why you didn't even blink when he threw a blade at his pets.

"You wanted to see me." You start when you are alone. If you could impress him with anything other than your fighting skills and the ability to obtain various information by staying in the shadows, it would be that you never showed fear or insecurity. At least not to those who don't know you. Almost no one could read you. Almost.

However, Feyd saw that you were behaving differently. But he was tired of controlling himself around you. He couldn't do it anymore after tasting your lips, tasting your skin mixed with tears, and feeling your curves press against him. He wanted more. Much more than he ever got from you. And he was going to take it, whether you wanted it or not. He won't go crazy with lust for you... or at least not with as much longing for you each night as he used to.

"I did..." He stands up, and you're grateful he's at least wearing underwear as he walks over to his bar and pours a second glass of wine. He hands it to you and taps it with his own. He takes a few sips and looks at you. After a while, he sits down on his bed again and swirls his glass, playing with the remains of the wine. "Baron wants me to find a wife." He announces calmly, staring at you intently as he finishes his wine with one big sip.

You almost choke on your drink. You place your glass on the table and meet the careful gaze of his cold, blue eyes. You feel yourself starting to get hot with nerves.

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, still reeling from the shock of this sudden information.

"He wants me to find a broodmare who will bear my heirs since I am getting close to the appropriate age." He repeats, standing up gracefully. He approaches you, his steps slow and measured, as if he were approaching his prey in an arena. And for a moment, that's exactly how you feel. But you show no fear or any other emotion as he stops a few inches in front of you. You straighten up, your muscles tensing as you think about any answer.

"I… I can make the necessary preparations and check which high families…"

"Strip." He orders you. His tone is hoarse, leaving no room for any objection. He talks just as if he were asking you to pass him the dagger rather than to stand naked in front of him. As if it was an order he carried out every day and something you should be used to following.

"What?" You ask stupidly, unable to process what he said to you in your head.

"Have you gone deaf? Undress. Take your clothes off." He repeats mockingly. He crosses his arms, takes a few steps back, and leans against the wooden post of his bed as he watches you carefully, waiting for you to either obey his order or openly disobey him, giving him the opportunity to punish you... as if he even needed a reason to do so.

"My na-baron, I..."

"Exactly, Y/N. I am your na-baron. So follow my order. Now. I'm not in the mood for our games. You think I haven't noticed you've been playing hide-and-seek lately? I have given much worse punishments for such disobedience and attempts at self-indulgence. Take your clothes off, or I'll rip them from you."

For a moment, there is a deathly silence in his chambers. Only your breathing can be heard as you try to find any way out of this situation. But you can't think of anything. Your mind is empty, your hands are shaking a little, and all you can do is look at him, silently begging him to change his mind. A frown of impatience appears on his forehead, and you know you have to do something before he gets irritated and cuts you with one of his blades.

You sigh softly as you reach for the laces of your shirt. You take your time, slowly untying your bindings. Feyd devours every bit of skin you expose to him, and you swear you hear him hold his breath as your shirt lands on the floor. You get out of your shoes and socks very slowly.

Luckily, he doesn't comment on it and lets you get out of his clothes at your own pace. He knows he will win anyway. Tonight, he will finally stop playing cat and mouse with you and put his hands on what is rightfully his. So he savours every moment, making a plan in his head for what he will do to you tonight for this small act of rebellion.

He licks his lips as you stand in front of him in nothing but black underwear. His eyes take in your every curve, skin lesions, and scars that mark your warrior body. Oh yes. He was going to enjoy this night and finally unwrap his early birthday present.

"Good girl. You know where the bathroom is, right?" Without waiting for your response, he goes there, expecting you to follow him.

You swallow hard. You're glad that at least you managed to stay in your underwear and that you're not completely naked in front of him. You get out of your pile of clothes and leisurely follow him to the bathroom.

As soon as you enter, the door closes itself behind you. You sigh, the sweet smell of bath salts reaching your nostrils. But you don't feel so relaxed when the coolness of the bathroom and the black marble you stand barefoot on make you shiver and your nipples harden.

The na-baron's dark chuckle catches your attention. He's in a large, black bathtub, his hands resting on its edges as he enjoys the warm water, watching you closely, a spark of amusement shining in his icy blue eyes. He looks like a vulture waiting for the best moment to kill his prey.

"It had been a long day. Join me." He says, lifting his hand for you to take and step into the tub.

Having no choice, you obediently reach for his hand and release it as quickly as you can, sitting on the other side of the bathtub with your legs tucked under you so as not to accidentally touch him. He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

"Not so far, my little mouse. Closer. I won't bite… well, not yet."

"I'm not a mouse." You snap at him. If you're going to die, at least die with dignity. Blinded by your anger at him, you sit on his lap before you can think it through. It's only his hardness pressing against your ass that makes you realize what a mistake you've made. You don't show your discomfort, though; you even lean against his chest, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around you just as the skin of your back meets his chest. You feel like you're in a cage, even though he's trying to calm you down by lazily drawing patterns on the skin of your arms. Your underwear soaks up the water and sticks to you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

"Hand me my dagger."

You much prefer receiving such orders from him. You get up from the bathtub to get away from him for a moment, but he stops you by grabbing your hips tightly. He shakes his head and nods towards the dagger, which is literally at his fingertips. You bite your lip, keeping yourself from talking back at him, and reach for the weapon, handing it to him. You do this carefully, not wanting to cut the skin of your fingertips with the very sharp blade.

He cuts through the fabric of your bra with surgical grace. You gasp in outrage but don't move, knowing full well that you are only millimetres away from him taking your blood. You don't have to turn around to know he's smiling cockily as he traces the tip of his dagger across your skin to your panties.

"You know I can take it off by myself?" You ask as he traces patterns with the tip of his dagger on your stomach, around your navel. You hold your breath as he rests his chin on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him, rubbing against your still-clothed ass. You learn the hard way that the rumours about his... greatness were true.

"You had your chance at the beginning, now it's my turn. You're lucky that I'm not taking it off of you with my teeth anyway." He growls in your ear. You shiver as he presses a wet kiss on your shoulder, peppering kisses on your skin, down to your neck, and down to your jawbone before he rests his chin on your shoulder again.

"Sorry for interrupting your fun, my na-baron." You growl as he hooks the tip of his dagger against the fabric of your panties.

"No worries; you will compensate me in another way." He says, cutting your panties. He throws them behind him and lazily presses the dagger against your jawbone, forcing you to turn your head to look at him.

You meet his blue eyes with yours. His irises are practically non-existent, giving way entirely to his dilated, black pupils. He stares at you hungrily, licking his lips. He looks lost and indecisive, as if he didn't know what to do first.

His other hand, the one not holding the dagger pressed against your neck and jaw, explores your body, caressing your skin as if it were some kind of precious silk. You sigh as he cups your breast, which, of course, fits perfectly in his hand. You want to punch him in the face, but the dagger at your throat reminds you that one wrong move could cost you dearly. So you take his hand in yours instead, stopping him from over-exploring.

"You know... I tried to stay away from you. From the first moment I saw you... fighting with those daggers of yours... you're not as graceful in dancing as you are with them in your hands, taking down all your enemies. But you are Bene Gesserit. I know you're dangerous. So damn dangerous... if I were anyone else, you'd use your voice on me and tell me to castrate myself. Or you could make me magically disappear by throwing myself off some tall tower just because I thwarted your plans or looked at you wrong. Surprised? You may live in the shadows, my little witch, but I won't miss anything you do. You know I have trouble controlling myself... so how can I do that when you're so damn irresistible? The fact that I've endured all these years and not gotten close to you the way I wanted—the way I dreamed so many times at night—is quite a success, don't you think?"

He massages your breast, playing with it. You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he pinches your nipple. He leans closer to you, pressing his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. He removes his hand from your breast and moves your connected body along your body. You gasp, tightening your grip on his as he brushes your clit gently with his fingertip.

"I… I should go." You mumble, squirming in his grip, which is, of course, pointless and only makes him groan in pleasure as your ass rubs against his hard, leaking member.

"Stay. You won't oppose your na-baron, will you?" The bastard knows well that you won't openly oppose him, and he uses it as best he can. He moves your joined hands to his length, forcing you to wrap your hand around him. He hisses, pressing the blade closer to your throat and tightening his grip on your hand as he guides yours along his length the way he wants. "Your skin is so soft… and that beautiful hair that you needlessly hide… you don't know how many times I imagined pulling you by it." He mumbles into your neck. The hand with the dagger now presses against your chest, only causing your heart to beat much faster. A wave of heat washes over you, your traitorous pussy clenching desperately as you hear his moans in your ear.

"Feyd..." You moan as his hand releases yours and works at your desperate pussy. He growls, feeling the warmth of your walls around his fingers and the wetness he caused. You remove your hand from his member and tighten your grip on his hand, trying to push him away from your private parts in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.

"Don't fight. Just give yourself to me, Y/N. Let me show you how much you've lost while trying to hide yourself from me in your shadows…" He growls, pressing the tip of the dagger to your nipple. You freeze, moaning as he becomes stiffened by the sheer movement of his blade.

He bites into your neck, making you moan loudly and throwing your head back. He licks and sucks your neck, rubbing his painfully hard cock against your pussy. The water splashes around you, some of it spilling out of the tub due to his sudden movements. A few inches deeper, and he would have slammed into you, bisecting you with his huge cock, which stood ready for you from the moment he saw you in your underwear.

"Can you feel it? Can you feel what you're doing to me? How hard I am because of you? It's like this every time you hand me my blade, perfectly balanced and sharpened, every time you meet all my needs without even communicating with me, you just know what I want by looking at me, my little witch. So tell me, who is a better partner for me than my right hand? Who can I trust more than you? Who should I fuck, full of my heirs, if not you?"

You don't respond; you can't find any words as your brain desperately tries to shout out the pleasure he's giving you and force you to resist him. Unsuccessfully. The warmth of the water, his body, his scent, and his precise, deliberate movements cut off your thoughts. Feyd is practically salivating at the sight of you so lost in lust and desire as he witnesses you lose control for the first time.

He throws away the dagger, which falls with a crash onto the marble floor. Neither of you care as he grabs your hips and, in one smooth, quick movement, turns you around so you can face him.

You only have time to draw in a quick breath before he demands your mouth. You moan into his lips as he kisses you with the same passion and intensity as he did a few weeks ago at the party after you won the fight. You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tightly, placing his hands on your back as he presses you against him. You don't stand a chance against his strength. You can resist him, but you know it won't be long before you collapse from exhaustion. You bite his lip until you draw blood, which only causes him to groan and have him grind against you, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

You gasp as he leaves your lips for a while and pulls your hair, exposing your throat to him so he can mark it even more. He sucks on your skin, littering it with hickeys as you feel him slowly move, positioning himself beneath you so that his member presses against the entrance of your pussy.

And just as he's about to join your bodies, to make you two one, to feel your hot, wet, tight walls around him, there's a knock on the bathroom door.

This time, he's the one who freezes, tightening his hold on you. You feel like he's making sure he hasn't misheard or imagined it in this heated moment between you, but when the knocking sounds a second time, he realises it's real.

You pray with gratitude for the soul of the fool who dared to interrupt him, because you know that even if it were something important, he would not live to see the morning.

"What?!" He growls furiously, not letting you go, not letting you move an inch from him, still believing that he can quickly get rid of the intruder and go back to ravaging you, maybe even fucking you while he talks to whoever is standing in front of that damned door. Though Feyd preferred to be fully focused on you when he took you for the first time. However, he was convinced that if he didn't feel you around him soon, he would go crazy. He is so close... all he had to do was push a little more...

"My lord na-baron. The Baron wants to see you. It's very important."

You see pure rage bubbling in his eyes. He growls, shifting you from his lap as he stands up. You look down as you see all of him very clearly, especially what you were exposed to a few moments ago. He throws a towel at you, and you automatically catch it. He wraps one around his waist before he comes back to you again and grabs your throat. He gives you a crazy, passionate kiss, stroking your neck and appreciating the marks he made before pulling away from you.

"We'll come back to it, little witch." He leaves you with that promise, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You hear him shouting something at his harpies, and you shudder at the thought of having to walk past them to get out of here. You lean back against the tub, still sitting in the now-cold water, as you slowly process everything that happened.

You succeeded this time, but you know you won't be so lucky next time. You could either accept... your new responsibilities and his expectations of you, or you could try to break free from him, risking your life.

It was a decision to be made in the privacy of your own chambers. For now, you let yourself lie in the cool water, fully aware that if you weren't interrupted now, he would fuck you silly, likely planting his seed inside you.

You ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be a whore, a vessel for their crazy breeding plan. Apparently, you just changed the owner of your womb. You had to do something if you didn't want to end up as originally intended—as the mother of the future Kwisatz Haderach.

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personasintro · 1 year

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Mutual Help | #17

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

"He just texted me 'screw y'all for going on a camping trip without me'." Jungkook chuckles at Jin's message while he reads it out loud.

"That's what he gets for being on a honeymoon in Greece." Jimin sassily remarks, knowing he's just joking and is extremely happy for Jin's happiness and fresh marriage.

The rest of the boys join, joking about it for a few minutes before you finally sit down and talk about today's plans. Hoseok is the one who seems to take a somewhat leader position as he starts to talk.

"Okay, as I mentioned before, there are four tents. One of them is bigger so three people can easily fit there." he explains, looking at each of you before Jimin speaks up.

"Me and Taehyungie can share a tent." he says, causing Taehyung to nod in agreement as they bump their fists like it wasn't expected. Those two are like twins.

"Okay, who's next?" Hoseok asks, looking around again.

"Me, Seulgi and Minjae can share the bigger tent." Kiko speaks up, smiling at her friends who nod and agree immediately.

It still feels weird to have her here, even though it might be a good thing. For all you know, Jungkook is still trying to win her back and this might help. No matter how many times you tell yourself she doesn't deserve him, you want what's best for him. And if his undying love for her isn't going anywhere, who are you to tell him otherwise. Jungkook is stubborn and you've never seen him being in love with someone so much before. Yes, he stopped talking about her like he used to, but him stealing glances her way whenever he thinks nobody is watching, just tells you otherwise. He still wants and loves her.

"Okay, Jungkook and Y/N are staying together. That's obvious, so me and Joon are gonna share a tent," Hoseok says to everyone, before he turns to Namjoon. "Please just don't snore that much." he whines, causing everyone to chuckle while Namjoon seems to fake offense.

"It's not like I can control it!" he exclaims, but still assures Hoseok he's better with snoring these days and even offers that he can sleep in his car if he's going to be snorting.

You kind of feel bad for him, but Hoseok assures him he was just joking and from what you've seen so far, Hoseok likes to joke around a lot but he really cares about his friends. Now that you think about it, him being so protective about Kiko just proves how much he loves his friends. You did the same thing with Jungkook. Still do. You're protective over him to the point you snapped at Kiko at Jin's wedding. You've never snapped at someone you barely know. Well, you know her but in a way, she's a complete stranger to you. She's just his ex that used to spend her time with him all the time, those two were inseparable. Just like you were with Jungkook, until he started to date her and they preferred to be alone rather than hang out with anyone else. The only difference between you is that you're Jungkook's best friend. Not a woman he fell in love with.

The more time you spend with everyone, you find yourself relax. Having Jimin and Taehyung here definitely helps, as those two fool around all the time. When Jungkook and Namjoon have successfully brought wood for the fireplace, two tents are already built thanks to Jimin and Taehyung because it seems like all the girls are pretty bad at it, including you.

"Weren't you saying you used to go camping with your uncle?" Jungkook jokes as he builds the tent like a pro. The grin that's plastered on his lips tells you that he's teasing you again and you take that time to slap his shoulder, causing him to laugh.

When all the tents are successfully built, thanks to none other than Jeon Jungkook himself, you finally eat some ramen that's the easiest to make. You gasp at the sight of the grill and all the other culinary equipment Hoseok brought, which makes everything easier. You can easily cook whatever you guys want. With stomachs full, you decide to go swimming in the lake since the heat starts to be unbearable.

Rummaging through your travel bags, you let out a set of curses while you feel Jungkook's body behind you.

"What's wrong?" he asks, setting his hands on your hips as he tries to look over your shoulder at what you're cursing about.

"I forgot my swimsuit, I thought I packed it. Fuck," you whine, tossing one of the crumpled shirts you manage to wrinkle in the process of your searching back in the bag.

"You packed your stuff into two huge bags and you still forgot your swimsuit?" he asks in bewilderment causing you to glare at him.

He's not helping. At all.

"Just put on whatever," he shrugs, and you glare at him again causing him to roll his eyes. "I don't think it matters. You brought some extra underwear, right?" he asks, causing you to nod.

"Yeah, I'll just leave on the one I'm wearing." you mutter, still disappointed that you managed to forget such an important item. Okay, maybe it's not that important but everyone's wearing a swimsuit and then you're going to be in your underwear.

"Well, I meant—"

"Okay, Jeon. Thanks!" you give him a thumbs up and get into his car to take off your clothes. Thank God for the tinted windows.

You hear him sigh at you, causing you to grin while you take off your clothes.

On the other side, there's Jungkook already wearing his black swimming shorts when Taehyung appears wearing similar ones, in yellow. "Where's Y/N?" he asks him, causing Jungkook to nod his head at his parked car.

"She's changing," he explains.

"Cool, meet us there." Taehyung tells him, already running to Jimin who's been calling him while everyone makes their way to the lake.

Jimin and Taehyung jump into the water, before Minjae and Seulgi do the same thing, squealing their hearts out at the temperature of the water. Jungkook leans against his car, arms plopped on the top of his car while he drums his fingers against the sleek black roof, waiting for you. It doesn't take you that long, door from the back opening as you step out of the car. Jungkook straightens his eyes widening at the sight of you.

"Are you kidding?" he asks straight away, eyeing your whole body as you look at yourself with a frown.

"This is the most decent underwear I packed." you reason, wondering if it's really that much.

It's not even lacy or too revealing. Okay, the bra could've been sport one and show less cleavage, but it looks like a bikini.

"You're not showing yourself in front of the guys like this." he tells you, mirroring your frown as he shakes his head.

"I'm not asking you," you tell him, earning a tough glare from him. "What the fuck am I suppose to wear?"

"Just put on my shirt over it." he suggests, already opening the truck before he pulls out a fresh white shirt. You know it's one of his own, considering the size and the fact you've seen him wearing it before.

He outstretches his arm to you, eyes daring you to say otherwise and you take the shirt but not before you whine.

"It's so hot! I'm gonna melt with this on!" you exclaim, grasping the soft material of his shirt in your hand.

He pats the top of your head, smiling down at you that makes you mentally curse at him. "No, you'll be fine."

Rolling your eyes at him, you put the shirt on knowing you might've felt uncomfortable in front of the guys if you just wore your underwear. Jungkook's got a point but you're not going to admit it in front of him, not when he's already grinning at you in triumph.

There's already a lot of squeals and splashing water when you get to the rest of the guys. Your eyes widen at the sight of so much skin, especially when you've never seen Hoseok and Namjoon topless.

"That's not fair. They get to be topless and I've to wear a shirt." you grumble at him silently, shifting your eyes off them before they can notice your prying eyes.

Jungkook's lack of response causes you to turn around, seeing him taking off his shirt as he tosses it on the floor. He's got the same grin plastered on his lips, his nose scrunching as he sees your scandalous expression.

"Really? You too?" you exclaim, eyes dropping down at the sight of his exposed abs and toned chest. Fuck, is he trying to kill you?

He walks up to you, picking you up with so much ease causing you to squeal in shock as you hold onto him tightly. "Life's not fair, Y/N." he comments jokingly, causing you to roll your eyes.

Legs wrapped around his frame and arms around his neck, you let him carry you. You don't think about it too much, that's until he's very careful while stepping into the water. And that's when you start to curse at him, trying to avoid contact with cold water.

"Jungkook, I swear to god! Don't drop me, don't you dare!" you start to scream at him, laughing when the cold water touches toes.

You hear the rest of the guys laughing at you, urging Jungkook to drop you which causes you to yell 'fuck all of you' before Jungkook gets even deeper. His low chuckle rustles in his chest, but he still holds you tightly. He's not dropping you, he even holds you tighter before all of your body is under the water, except your head. Surprisingly, the water isn't as cold as you expected it to be and you allow yourself to relax in his hold.

"Why would you do that?" you ask him quietly, admiring silently his face.

He's beautiful, the reflection of water sparkles his face that's so close to you. You can feel his warm breath on your face as he chuckles. "I knew you'd take a good hour to get into the water. So I helped." he smirks, causing you to snort.

"Oh, you helped? Is that it?" you laugh, splashing some water into his face. He gasps dramatically at that, causing you to laugh again. "You're such a good person, aren't you?" you tease him, splashing him once again.

He tries to dodge your attack by turning his head, but it still splashes the side of his face and he turns to you with a devilish smirk. "Y'know what? Suddenly, I don't feel like being a good person anymore." he says before he lets go of you, causing you to cling to him for your dear life.

He's laughing, putting his arms above his head so you can't reach him. You hold onto him, cursing at him. "Fuck you, Jeon. This is not funny."

You can swim, but you're more confident in your swimming when you can actually reach the bottom. Considering Jungkook barely reaches it, it means you wouldn't and you don't want to risk that.

"Maybe later, baby." he smirks, hands on your hips again before he walks closer to the shoal.

Heart beating at his words, you choose not to think too much about it. You can't let yourself get horny because of simple words. There are people around you, watching you.

You finally let him let go of you, legs meeting the bottom of the lake, but not before you splash him straight into the face. You hear Jimin's laughter at that, but it soon dies down when Jungkook jumps at you, diving both of your bodies underneath the water. You fool around for a few minutes, completely in your own worlds before you get out of the water to put some sunscreen on.

Your eyes find Kiko sitting on the towel with crossed legs as she stares at you. Surprisingly, she smiles at you and hands you her sunscreen which you take with a soft 'thanks'. The thought of her watching the both of you makes you somehow uncomfortable.

Was Jungkook fooling around because he knew she was watching? It certainly felt natural and just something both of you do. It's not the first time Jungkook has done that, fooling around with you or getting you into the water with you protesting and cursing him out. This trip is supposed to be fun. He didn't know she was coming as well but he's still trying to win her back. You both have to pretend to be dating here, but the question is...

Has he already started to pretend?

#networkbangtan #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

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blue-rose-soul · 8 months

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"Great Alastor Altruist* died for his friends!"

This scene has been spinning in my brain since Thursday. Like a lot of other people, my first thought was that this was an indication that Alastor had grown to care for Charlie and her friends at the hotel. And it's not because of the words he says. Even if you're watching without subtitles and don't see the quotations around that phrase, it's pretty obvious that he's laughing at the very thought.

"Me? Alastor? Dying for them?"

"Ridiculous."

"Absurd!"

"Utterly laughable!"

No, what makes me think that there might be a kernel of truth there isn't the words by themselves. It's the look on his face as he says them.

This is the part where Alastor's angry snarl breaks and he begins to look genuinely afraid. He clutches his chest. He digs his fingers into his scalp, drags his hand down the side of his face. And that's a perfectly reasonable reaction to nearly dying! It's very human! But I think it's very telling that this expression doesn't settle on his face until he's talking about dying for someone else. Before this he looked more angry than anything, and he lapses back into anger up until he begins talking about trying to find a way out of his deal.

Now, don't get me wrong, I understand why anyone would think otherwise. The thing about Alastor is that, despite how blatant it is, his mask works. Like I stated earlier, I find myself searching every word, expression, and gesture from Alastor for double meaning. Ostensibly, there's no one here for Alastor to lie to**. No one he has to put up an act for. But his smile, which he's already fully admitted is faker than fake, remains firmly in place. I wonder if putting up an act is so second nature to him at this point he can't help but do it even when he's alone. Maybe he tries to fool himself as much as other people.

I believe that he has come to care, but I can't fully believe it. I won't be surprised to be wrong. But there are some scenes that just don't make sense to me if he really doesn't care at all.

His chat with Niffty the night before the extermination, for example. Niffty isn't really someone he needs to trick. He has power over her, whether it's because he owns her soul or because of her blind devotion to him. It's telling that while everyone else is hanging out together, sharing drinks at the bar, Alastor keeps his distance and positions himself above them. At this point, Alastor seems to care about them the way we, the audience, care about them; as entertainment. He's enjoying watching their story unfold up close, but that's all there is to it. He admits to Niffty that one could get accustomed to being with them. Not him though! He's above all that.

Then the battle happens. At first, Alastor's role in the battle didn't require him to assume too much risk. He was on crowd control, limiting the number of exorcists the rest of the hazbins have to deal with at once. And he slayed a not insubstantial number of angels in the process***. But then Adam broke through Alastor's shield and singled him out. It would have been reasonable for Alastor to put some distance between himself and the Lead Exorcist. Charlie did say it was his job to deal with Adam, but as I've already discussed, Alastor really had no hope of winning that fight alone. Maybe if he'd escaped right then and there, or fought Adam alongside Charlie things would have turned out differently. Granted, I don't think his pride would have allowed him to take either of those options.

Regardless, the end result is that Alastor did come very close to dying for a cause that wasn't his. Considering what Adam did to the hotel, Alastor's pretty damn lucky he's not in two pieces here.

Now, I don't think this means Alastor is immediately going to turn around and integrate int o the hazbin family. Immediately after this line where he mocks the idea of dying for Charlie's cause, he gets angry again, leans further into the Radio Demon persona and starts contemplating ways to escape his contract. I think, that like someone recoiling after accidentally touching a hot stove, Alastor's going to pull further away from them. One thing I am certain about is how Alastor feels about his leash; he hates it. He wants to be rid of it. He doesn't know how to do that yet, but he's working out a plan and having Charlie in his corner is part of that plan. Giving a genuine shit about her or the other hazbins is not part of that plan. It's another leash, not as literal as the one connecting him to his patron but just as binding.

Alastor realizing he might actually care about these people may just make him more dangerous to them than if he just didn't care at all.

(*The word 'altruist' here being used as a title, not a name. Like something you'd see in a newspaper headline, or on a headstone.)

(**There do seem to be some odd eye motifs in the environment, but at no point does Alastor give any indication he is aware of them or acknowledge their presence in anyway. And I highly doubt he would have said certain things if he believed his patron was actively watching him.)

(***Taking this opportunity to go off topic a bit to call the Vees out on their hypocrisy. For all their bluster about 'taking the fight to Heaven' and how 'pussy' the older Overlords supposedly are, I didn't see any of them on the battlefield. Alastor was. He fought as long and hard as he could. There was nothing cowardly about him living to fight another day.)

#theory #random thoughts #Hazbin Hotel #Alastor #or y'know maybe I'm way off base and he really doesn't care about them even a little #I won't pretend like I've got an impartial perspective #Alastor's my favorite character and a big part of me WANTS him to care #I know he's in no way shape or form a good guy #However I do think that the possibility is there #and don't go telling people that they're idiots for interpreting media differently than you do. that's rude. stop it

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deathbypufferfish · 2 months

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~ click here to read the written story while you read this legacy post! It is under the cut as well ~

So many good things happened that night. Getting a fake relationship off your chest, coming out, touching. If only Ilya hadn't tried to kiss him. And if only he wasn't drunk enough that Haru had stop him. Maybe then Ilya wouldn't have run away and maybe then neither of their hearts would be broken. Too many things happened that night.

Full written scene under cut (word count: 1635)

Somewhere in-between Emi’s keg-stand and Joe’s flirting, Haru had lost track of Ilya.

What began as a simple scope around the room had quickly turned into a frantic search and a pit of anxiety in Haru’s stomach. The last time he saw Ilya he was downing his beer with fervor. It was something he had never seen before. He wondered if he had ever even seen him drink in the first place. Anxious thought upon thought was stacking up in his brain when the most obvious location finally came to mind. His dorm room.

The tower of thoughts toppled over and a new mixture of emotions arose. Anticipation and excitement. Haru had accepted weeks ago that things between him and the dancer would never be more than friendly, but the feelings he tucked away were hard to keep down. They haunted him at night and filled idle daydreams throughout the day. Imagining scenario after scenario. But that was all they were and all they ever could be, daydreams. He just needed to find Ilya already.

Once down the hall Haru could tell by the dim glow underneath his door that his bedside lamp was still on. He walked in and his hunch was confirmed. Ilya was sitting on the floor, his back leaned up against Haru’s bed, and his shoes were off . He lazily stroked the wooden grooves of the nightstand. Slowly and exaggerated. It was very apparent that he was drunk out of his mind.

“I’m sorry, I was looking at your stuff,” he slurred.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been looking at all your things. Like your pictures…and your books…” He barely spoke louder than a murmur. His fingers still traced the wood as he spoke.

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” Haru didn’t know what else to say. Not a single thing made sense to him right now. Ilya was drunk, in his room, and apparently perusing through his things. That pit of anxiety returned with a vengeance. Ilya finally turned to look at him. His eyes were red. His shirt collar was wet with tears. Haru’s actions came to him so naturally after that.

He let him help him off the floor and onto his bed. There was no protest or drunken apologies. Ilya simply stared at him with an expression that felt so blank and yet so sad. His gaze felt heavy on him. Intrusive even.

He knelt to the ground and grabbed his shoes. Without even thinking, he began to put them back on Ilya. He immediately felt like such a fool, but it was too late. Stopping now would be worse, right? Right? As he tied his laces he dared to take a peek up at Ilya’s face. He was covering his face with both of his hands, but Haru could still see furious blushing on the tips of his ears. He finished tying his shoes as quickly as possible as the blood rushed to his own face as well.

Haru sat next to Ilya on his bed at a respectful distance, and they both sat in silence for an uncomfortable minute or so. Ilya shifted back and forth every once and a while, seemingly always on the edge of saying something. At last he spoke in just a soft enough whisper to hear.

“I’ve never had a friend like you.”

“What do you mean?” Haru turned to look at him, but still found him evading his gaze. Ilya rubbed his hands along the knees of his jeans. Slowly feeling the rough fabric slide to and fro underneath his palms. Haru thought it almost sounded like the rolling of waves along a shore. Every sentence seemed to take him a great deal of time to form and think through. Whether it was the alcohol or nerves, Haru couldn’t tell.

“I mean, I’m close with Katya, but not like I am with you.”

“Well, she’s your girlfriend. Of course it would be different.”

“No, no, it’s not different,” he snapped. “She's not actually my girlfriend.”

Ilya squeezed his eyes shut and clenched the fabric in his hands. What was he talking about? Did they break up? Haru had seen them talking to each other just an hour ago. If he was honest, he hadn’t been watching them that closely. He’d rather not see his unrequited crush talk to his girlfriend, but he would have at least noticed any domestic tension.

The reality of Ilya’s confession dawned on him. They weren’t in a real relationship and maybe never were. They were faking it. When he looked at it under this lens, he realized that they never truly interacted as a couple. Of course, except when Katya would kiss Ilya in front of him. Maybe it was for show. Maybe it was Katya’s disdain for Haru. But Ilya had just confessed that their relationship was never truly romantic. More than that, Haru thought about what this may mean for Ilya’s sexuality.

“Oh…I see.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he whispered.

Ilya finally turned to look at him. They were closer together than Haru initially realized. He couldn’t help but examine every mole, every crease, every detail of his sorrowful, yet beautiful face. It was hard to breathe in such close proximity. The hugs they had shared before felt prudish in the shadow of this intimacy.

He tried to deny it, but he felt as if Ilya was doing the same thing. The way he was leaning in, the way his chest heaved with his shallow breaths. That far-fetched idea of him loving him back felt so tangible all of a sudden. And it was terrifying

“It’s okay. You could have never told me, and it would still be okay,” he whispered back. “I care about you.”

Ilya opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His face was burning red again. His eyes wide and dilated. Haru couldn’t bear it, being so close. It was pure torture. As his stomach flipped and the heat rose in his chest he took his chance and laid a soft hand over Ilya’s.

It was stiff and terribly awkward at first. Ilya had frozen so quickly you would think he would shatter. Haru was wondering if he had made a grave mistake when Ilya’s deep breath interrupted him. In just a moment more he mellowed under his touch, simply letting his hand lay atop his own. For a moment everything fell still. They did not speak, they just sat in each other’s presence. After a while things began to feel tense again, overwhelming even, so Haru broke the silence.

“How about we get you some coffee?” he said.

Ilya was still staring at the floor, but a small smile had crept up onto his stern face. He nodded. Haru stood up and tried to gain his composure before leaving the privacy of his dorm room. Ilya followed suit, but wobbled at his own sudden movement. Haru grabbed his elbow and steadied him with a soft chuckle. Coffee was a requirement at this point. Ilya stared at Haru's hand on his arm and before Haru could even react he found himself in his arms.

Sure they had hugged before, but it was fleeting and friendly. This was something else entirely. Ilya was practically hanging off him, pressing most of his weight into their embrace. He pressed his face into his shoulder and sighed. Haru could have passed out right then and there. This entire night was threatening his ability to stay conscious, honestly. It was worth it, he decided, and pressed his cheek to the top of the shorter man’s head. His curls tickled his nose. It was hard to not think about how much he loved him.

Ilya pulled away only slightly, their faces mere inches apart. He leaned in further. Their lips had only barely made contact when Haru had brought a hand up to his chest. He pushed him away as gently as he could. He was drunk, too drunk, but those words could not get out faster than Ilya's face fell. Complete and utter horror.

”No, Ilya, please wait! I love you, I do!”

It was too late. Ilya bent his head under the weight of his shame. He shoved him off so hard Haru stumbled into the nightstand, knocking the lamp onto its side. He grabbed at Ilya’s sleeve, tears streaming down his face, but Ilya shook him off once again.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

His voice was layered with so much emotion it pierced Haru’s heart like a dagger. It was over. He humiliated him. He had humiliated himself.

Ilya slammed the door shut in his escape. Haru ran after him, but lingered as he reached for the doorknob. He couldn’t run after him in the midst of the party. It would just have made things worse, much worse. He knew this, yet it took everything in him to not open that door and chase after him anyways. To tell him how much he loved him. How he didn’t want him to have any regrets about their first kiss being a drunk, crying mess. He couldn’t tell if it was the right or wrong thing to do. The heartbreak had crippled any logical thought or reason he could have come up with. It didn’t matter anymore.

He slid down the door as the floodgates opened up. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to even think through the sobs that tore through him. The banging at the door began as Emi shouted at him to move out of the way in-between asking what happened. Eventually he would let her in and eventually he would stop crying, but for now all he could do was lay down and hope he would sink into the floor. Into nothing. Never to be seen again.

#puffer legacy #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 legacy #ts4 gameplay #sims 4 #simblr #plgen4 #ts4 story #haru terzi #ilya petrovsky #if it isnt linked yet right when i post please be patient i have to post it first

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kehideni · 2 months

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The time has come... the aroacest person ever will rant about how in LMK Wukong's feelings regarding Macaque were hinted at.

And by hinted at i mean that ultimatelly it can still be platonic but yeah i get why people ship it. I'm grumbling over here like

so you can think of me as a reluctant shipper. (ugh)

Jesus Christ... how do i even start...

I guess with readmore because i'm going to talk about the whole entire show so far. Which means Spoilers for Season 5 (and 4... but like that's been out for a year now)

Also before i start, i'm not gonna talk about Macaque's pov in this because he is even more obvious than Wukong and people talk about him all the time. I should know i'm one of them.

S1E9 "Macaque"

First and foremost it's not much, but SWK's reaction to seeing Macaque for the first time in who knows how long is legit suspicious, not because it's anything special but specifically because it's such a toned down reaction. Even if SWK doesn't know that Macaque is supposed to be dead, Mac has been suggested to be at least MIA since their mysterious fight. He wasn't goofing around, he wasn't taking it lightly, but also he didn't take Macaque's appearance with the weight you'd think he should.

Let's just do a little mental gymnastics: In your mind replace SWK with MK and Macaque with Mei. Imagine that Mei has Macaque's backstory and MK has SWK's. Two long time best friends, with a serious fallout, Mei goes MIA and then comes back. Do you think MK would react the same way SWK did in the episode? Obviously not.

Now i know Wukong is rather secretive, exspecially in S1-3(for plot reasons) but the thing is, that DBK was also SWK's friend, a very dear one at that. His reaction to DBK is goofy, light spirited, hardly interferes with the MK vs DBK fight. He wasn't really shush-shush about missing DBK's company. (S2E2 Revenge of the Spider Queen)

In contrast to that, when he finds out Macaque is back he doesn't take it lightly, no goofing off, but also doesn't seem to want to fight Macaque? In this episode all he does is make Mac back off from MK. I guess he wouldn't want to, of course, but yeah had Mac been anyone else, Wukong would be actively working on how to get rid of him. Ie.: Lady Bone Demon or even the Major("how about him? Is he part of your destiny?" bit)

And we do know SWK was holding back, as he wooped Macaque's behind when he was possessed by LBD no problem.

S2E1 "Happy New Year"

SWK: "It's called misdirection."

MK: "Seems like a shady lesson."

SWK: "Too soon, buddy."

It's not really saying much- again-, after all it's just a one liner joke. It's just that no comparable joke was made in any other character's expense. Also the annotation in SWK's voice wasn't really silly. A "can't decide if i'm supposed to smile at the pun or feel sorry for SWK" thing.

(Now while we are ignoring Mac's side of things, rewatching Shadowplay while having S5 knowledge, it's kind of haunting what kind of parallels the show is drawing between MK and Macaque of all things but moving ooooooon~)

In most of Season 3, Wukong is back to his monkey-ing around personality. S3E1 "On the run" he behaves the same way he'd with DBK.

The next of note episode is pretty far off in S3E9 "The king, the prince, and the shadow"

The importance of this scene

specifically Wukong's expression, is that funnily enough, he believed completely that Macaque was working for LBD, when in truth he was going behind her back the whole time, working towards his own agenda (ie.: freeing himself from her) and also thought he could fool Macaque.

Macaque on the other hand easily read Wukong's intention, something that Nezha fell for completely, that the rings were fake. (Macaque knows Wukong better than Wukong knows Macaque.)

That means, at this point Wukong was convinced that Macaque is a bad guy (something he will mention right at the beginning of Season 5) and still he did not hurt him. He later on almost did, yes, but did not need much convincing from Tang to leave him be.

"If you hurt that kid, i'll..."

"What? Make things worse for MK?"

*cuts to that scene

Obviously intentional poetic positioning, reflecting Macaque in a position that is suggested to be the "made things worse for him" thing that Mac is referring to. Yadda yadda, had Wukong not killed him the LBD would not have her claws in Macaque right now as she wouldn't have resurrected him. *is still a hella sketchy story with holes and i don't intend to make Wukong out to be the bad guy, i'm working with what the show is er... showing us/telling us* !Which is fine!!! The story is on going!!! They choose to tell it as teeth-pullingly slow as possible for plot convenience! Sit down, we all know the truth will be far more nuanced than it was presented in S3

But to get back to Wukong's pov, if you notice, after he hears that Macaque is not loyal to the LBD he tries to tell him that he has a plan, one- presumably (if Mac would have listened) -Wukong would have involved him in. Possibly even help him get free from LBD.

Next in line would be the parallel drawn between Mei and Macaque

Wukong was impulsive way back then and now, hurting "those that care about you the most" But yeah... Macaque's line is also incriminating "She's completely out of control, if there's a time to go it is now."

MK countering it that- paraphrasing now but -"bruh that's not really a punk rock thing to do." Possible reason for ^ that cut to Wukong's reaction is that Macaque's line opened up some scars. Hearing that he'd abandon you when things go wrong is very much the first wound that SWK and Macaque suffered in their friendship (from Wukong's side, again imma just ignore Macaque's side in this post but so help me if anyone goes on a comment rampage about how Macaque is truely a piece of shit i will just tell you to go watch the whole series again because whole ass plotlines and characterDEVELOPMENTS fly right by you)

Nezha: "She controlled the fire? This is impossible."

^ Wukong getting a front row seat view of what could have been had they not given up on each other with Macaque.

"Mei was right, i need to stop dragging you into my fights."

ehm... you guys hear it too i'm sure, but we will get to that later

(On a slight tangent... actually i do recommend a rewatch of the show because LBD's lines get so much more meaning. Macaque specifically gets added to the destiny speech all the time, which is funny considering he should know all about destiny and he is the most againts the idea of a destiny existing, Macaque refuses his own powers???And i do believe Macaque has his future-knowing powers because he has reaction time to things that didn't even start happening yet such as LBD throwing the girl away, hiding from Azure and co. when he shouldn't have known they are free, etc.)

On another cute little side note, Nezha said Wukong is not a loner, no matter how much he seems to be.

Lookit that happy smile, fighting along side all his fwiends awww, go you funky little monkey man

This ending scene for it's few seconds is packed with things to point out. "I hate that guy so much, always acting like he's so cool." Literally no one ever said that or thought that Wukong. That was your take on Macaque's behavior. When i first saw that scene my thought was that "Yeah if i were Macaque i'd have left too."

Or even this gag bit can suggest Wukong being out of balance once Macaque leaves.

Stress eating...

Season 4 goes a bit more into detail concerning Wukong's issues

"Forever is a long time bud, trust me." Shows two monkeys hanging around, eating fruit, doing whatever they want.

So the scroll gets opened, and in no practicular order characters are shown that Wukong feels guilty about, looks properly sad when they show. The stress lines around his eyes start showing after Macaque is shown

Flashback scene, kinda is a thing in season 4 that Wukong is much more physically affectionate than Macaque

not gonna do more screenshots because i could literally just post the clip but the thing that we can take away from these is that Wukong insisted on including Macaque

"You're really going through with this?"

"Correction, WE are going through with this." i'm choosing to take it as a tie back to Nezha's line of Wukong not liking being alone.

Much of the brotherhood doesn't seem to actually care for Macaque and Macaque seems to not care for the brotherhood either. And Peng isn't even our first clue for this, since DBK and Macaque have been around since Season 1 and they have yet to interact with each other, eventhough they are sworn brothers too. Azure Lion and Yellow Tusk if name drop Macaque once the whole season, and Peng is the most vocal about their dislike/hatered of Macaque. (Also when the scroll wants to traumatise Azure it only uses Peng and Yellow Tusk)

You can headcanon that Macaque joined the brotherhood only because Wukong is there, but also it's not really a stretch to think that it was actually Wukong that wanted Macaque in the brotherhood and Macaque just agreed to join because Wukong insisted. Either and both can be true.

I just posted this screenshot because Wukong's face made me laugh.

Wukong being the only one paying attention to Macaque's thoughts and feelings, even if ultimately he brushes them under the rug. (Which says more about the brotherhood than Wukong actually...because the brotherhood just about ignored Macaque completely. Wukong paid attention but ya know... big plans and big dreams require big actions)

His speech is a nice promise, but the annotation is on "like we always wanted". The whole quote going: "Relax bud, when this is over we'll be back here basking in the Sun, getting fat on fruit for the rest of ... well forever!! Like we always wanted."

Since it's a conversation with only Wukong and Macaque in the shot, we as the audience are clued in that it was specifically the dream of those two, not the whole brotherhood.

Btw rewatching the episode, Azure says Wukong had the habit of keeping people at arm's lenght, like bruh that's a straight on lie.

(lmao that Tang joke with the water :'D not thirsty, Tang?)

Now Azure when talking with MK, showing him select few scenes to make himself look the victim says one thing. That Wukong imprisoned them. Did not kill, imprison.

I said this before, i will say it here too. Why would Wukong, who is closest to Macaque from the brotherhood, imprison everyone else, but specifically kill Macaque? Nah ah, i'm pretty sure that was not how it went down. But that's a to be cleared thing for season 6 hopefully.

As.... hilarious as this picture is, it's kinda proof of Wukong's sentimentality.

Finally i arrive at S4E11 A lifetime of mistakes

Nothing much to say about this scene, it speaks for itself.

"Everything i did was for us!" This sentence alone means Wukong's fear of death extended to Macaque. Macaque said that Wukong feared death more than anything which is true, but whenever Wukong talked about his goals the emphasis was on them together spending forever with whatever they wanted.

Third time reminding you of Nezha's statement, that Wukong is not a loner. Something that Azure flat out lied about, telling MK that Wukong kept them at arm's lenght.

It's 2+2 guys... spending eternity alone is boring as fk, of course you need a buddy. And a buddy just as immortal as you, since we know the heartbreak that comes with an immortal - mortal friendship. To the mortal that friendship is for lifetime, to that immortal it's just a small chapter of their lives. Wukong really DID do everything for Macaque, but well... he went overboard, like MK said. He could have stopped right here, he already had his wish:

They already were sitting in the sun, eating fruit and doing whatever they wanted.

But now look at thoooose stress lines

While the show doesn't even suggest what Wukong's full punishment was -because let's keep it PG it is still a kids show- Wukong also just lost his best friend.

In Season 4 peaches were the symbol of their friendship, something that Wukong -probably just out of sheer anger- rejected from Macaque in this scene, only for Macaque to crush said peach in answer and throw it away. My guys, this was an ugly UGLY divorce. Thing is that had cooler heads prevailed, they probably wouldn't have had this fight here. It's dressed up as a gag line, but Wukong says he really wanted that peach.

In the scroll MK and Macaque follow the memories that Wukong punched himself through, trying to find some good ones AKA memories with MK. Wukong saw this memory too, which was the last memory before MK and Mac found Wukong.

After seeing this memory and deciding to escape it he stopped in the next one. Meaning this memory is the freshest Wukong is thinking about.

"I just wanted to protect the people i care about." *camera angles to Macaque.

MK then quotes Wukong saying that maybe they can't fix everything, but they just have to leave it better than they found it. That's just another way to say "fix" btw... and he looks to Macaque, because that's what he wants to fix most.

Well he has an eternity to do it.

He was legit asking permission from Macaque here, idk what for if you are the Monkey King you don't need permission, right?

Next episode "The Plan man" starts with something i already said:

Wukong is looking for Macaque when he notices he is not in the heroic pose with the rest of them. Showing once again, where Wukong's priority laid. He needs to make sure he still has his buddy by him. Kinda going into Sun Mumkong mode, embarassing Macaque:

Do note, Wukong verbally said he wanted all of them to have the "happily ever after" but before that talk with Azure, Macaque was emphasized.

And the thing is, at first i thought, surely i'm reading far too much into this, but this weird Macaque-prioritising will appear in Season 5 too. We will get to that.

This was Wukong's wish, to not be alone.

Anyways, show uppy "tsundere" way of expressing, that he is happy Mac is there.

Like i said, peaches in season 4 were a metaphor for their friendship. Handing Mac a peach ice cream is kinda his way of saying "friends?" but maybe in a different way. The "try again" button in the game if you will.

Season 5 however hooo boi...

I ran out of pictures/post so i'll have to make a part 2, which will be season 5.

#lmk #my fingers are gonna rot off my hands but siiiighh fine i'm tagging it (man i hate shipnames)#shadowpeach #lmk wukong #lmk macaque

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antiromanticbaby · 1 year

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Trapped - Yandere! Solomon

Yandere!Solomon x GN!reader

[✧] ー inspired by this post/chat. Includes hints to my own lores, comment if you were interested <3.

Summary: Solomon decided that shrinking you and keeping you in a world of make belief isn't that bad of an idea. Similar to: Pink Paradise - Asmodeus contains: possessive and overprotective Solomon. Mc/you are not present, just solomon rambles. You can listen to: le monde - richard carter? Not proof read

YOU were such a temptation.

And Solomon had to tame you before you tamed him. He wasn't going to allow the past repeat itself. To have you, his throne, ripped away from him? No, he wowould never allow it. He was fool onced, he wouldn't be fooled twice. Those crooked smile and bright eyes with sin filling them up with light. There used to be a time where those full of light eyes fooled him too, but those days had come to an end.

He was a sheep whom had survived these demons, and was a sheep, after surviving thede demons, truly a sheep? The answer is obvious.

Solomon, the well known sorcerer, wise and witty. He used to be young too, but now he is no more a fool. Back then he was set on exploring the world as the fool, and now he was the wise sorcerer. Yet you were still the fool, the sheep. And these demons wanted you, because you were a pure sheep who would never get the chance to understand these worlds due to your mortality. Oh what a chain mortality was, not allowing you to fully grasp your life. But he would do something for that, before these demons decided it was the end.

You were so painfully oblivious, always choosing them over him. He was sick of it. Solomon was sick of you choosing demons over him, the human, your human. You weren't there thousands and thousands of years ago, when demons roamed the human world freely, when he was still a pure child hidden in the basement. And those oh so pure eyes of his, observing everything from his place in the basement... he didn’t want to be petty, but could anyone blame him? After everything he saw and experienced? You only saw Devildom, and that was also when lord Diavolo is the de facto king. Where were you when His Majesty Baphomet ruled? His Highness Baal? And way before that?

You only saw the mask these demons, these wolves wore. You poor little lamb, he had to protect you all the time didn't he? He had to keep protecting you, or else you'd run back into the arms of those 'sweet' little demons of yours again and again. They would take and take and take, until you were no more. And only then will you run back to him. It was truly unfair, because you didn't even acknowledge it.

It's alright. He would protect you, he had to protect you.

Hence why you were here now. This Trarium suitted your taste perfectly, you'd love it. Sending a text to you about it as a joke was prefectly fine, because you wouldn't suspect that he would actually do it. Shrink you? You wouldn't believe it. He was always a man of jokes, this would be no different for you. But for him, it was like hearing 'yes' to wedding proposal. Now that he thought about it, he would shrink a ring and put it there too. You would have all the time in the world to explore and find that ring.

He smiled as he read over your texts, sending one real quick. He was waiting for you at home eagerly. First he would analyze your reaction to the Trarium, and then he will bring up his 'joke' again. It didn't matter what you said though, he had already prepared everything. Your death was ready to be faked, and your existence was already wiped from the mind of all your human friends and family. He hoped you would give him consent, because he would hate to force you. Still, if you didn't give him consent, he would do it.

This was for your own good.

Your destiny was his, you two were made for each other. You just had to realize it the hard way.

Oh how romantic it would be for the two of you to take loving walks in this world where he was the god again, where he could be the king again. And the demon brothers, the prince or his steward wouldn't be there to whisk you away.

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bewitchedfeathers · 5 months

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Hay Bales - Hell/uva Boss Snz Fic

I can definitely relate over this regrettable fave 😆. His sexy voice and animalistic violent vibes gave me ‘oh no he's hot’ feelings almost immediately. Thank you for the request! And I'm so honored that you were eager for my writing!

I decided to set this in a slight au where Blitzo and Striker spend some time together before the actual festival happens.

Can be read as Blitzo/Striker or just Blitzo enjoying Striker's sneezing and Striker not minding the attention. Also I gave Blitzo the fetish. If that's not what you were looking for please feel free to send another request!

Please do not reblog to non-kink related blogs

—----

Blitzo watched as Striker hefted haybales in the late afternoon sun, not hiding how he was watching the play of his muscles from his seat on the nearby fence. Striker occasionally glanced over with a wicked grin or gave a saucy flick of his tail Blitzo's way and it proved the egostistical bastard didn't mind the attention.

The real entertainment started when he was close to finishing moving the hay from the back of a truck to the side of the barn. There were bits of hay and dust visible in the slanting sunlight but Blitzo didn't pay it any mind at first. It started with Striker wrinkling his nose and sniffling. Then progressed to his eyes looking just slightly pink around the edges and the occasional rub of his wrist against his nose.

Blitzo didn't make any snarky comments because he was too busy being on the edge of his seat to see if he would get to see Striker sneeze.

“Heh….Ehhhh-EHH’SHOO….” Striker bent forward with a deep fierce sneeze, that had Blitzo's tail curling. “Snf! Fuck…” Striker cursed under his breath as he rubbed roughly at his nose with his forearm.

“Gesundheit, big guy,” Blitzo called out cheekily.

Striker glared and opened his mouth to snark back when his breath caught and sneezed openly towards the ground again. “Heh’ERSHHHUH…snfSnf - heh-HEH’RUSSHHOOO…satan bless it,” he cursed again, visibly frustrated, his tail whipping back and forth behind him.

“Something bothering you?” He said with fake nonchalance.

“You concerned about me, Blitz?” He returned with a smirk. But Blitzo wasn't fooled as he watched Striker's nostrils twitch and flutter with obvious irritation.

“I was just thinking it'd be pretty funny, a cowboy allergic to hay,” he goaded with a crooked shit eating grin. Striker lips pulled back in a snarl but his face collapsed into a sneezy grimace as he turned his head to the side to sneeze again.

“Hehhhh’ESHHhhhuhh…hh’huhh’USHHhhoo…huhhh’ERRRSSHHOO!” Blitzo watched him pant and sniffle for a moment before Striker pulled a bandana from his pocket. He rubbed roughly at his nose with the fabric before turning away to blow his nose.

Blitzo felt a bit like a kid on christmas watching the sexy cowboy sneezing from his allergies acting up.

Striker turned back to him, face a little flushed. “Dinner will be uh-up soon. You should head on in, Blitz.”

Blitzo grinned wide and unrepentant, tail tip flicking happily (and hornily) at the catch of Striker's breath. “Nah, I'm good here. This fence is surprisingly comfy,” his voice dropped a little into a flirtatious teasing tone, “and you're putting on quite the show, cowboy.”

“Shows over,” Striker growled, body stiff with tension, tail giving a brief rattle.

“You know….I don't think it is.”

“You think I'm some kind ofhhh…of rodeo clown,” he snarled taking an aggressive step towards Blitzo.

“Hey clowning is an honorable profession I'll have you know,” Blitzo said snippily, but with only a bit of actual offense. “No, this is all part of the show I've been enjoying - sexy fucking cowboy doing sexy things. No one's laughing here.”

He slid off the fence post to lean against it, hips and legs posed provocatively and not hiding his interest. Striker's eyes went wide with surprise as he realized Blitzo was being entirely honest. And then he huffed with exasperated amusement and Blitzo grinned.

“You're a real freak, Blitz,” Striker accused, but his tone was all smooth and teasing again. “It's something blooming out by the hay. It's been driving me….crazy…huhhh…ah-all week…”

“Fuuuck,” Blitzo groaned, his tail wrapping around his own thigh and squeezing as he sunk his claws into the fence post to keep himself from reaching into his pants for some relief.

Striker shot Blitzo a watery eyed smirk. His nostrils flared wide and he sniffed involuntarily as the inner walls fluttered with irritation. “Huhhh…hh’huh…Huhhh’UHSHHHoo…Hh’RRUZSHHooo…hheh’hhh’EHHSHUHH…” Striker groaned and brought the clean side of his bandana to his nose, muffling the next set of sneezes. Blitzo was trying to commit every minute to memory for when he jerked off to this in the future, and also in his van five minutes from now.

“Huh’MPHHHshhuh….ESSHHHuhh…ERRRRSSHHmphh…” Striker blew his nose again and rubbed at it between his fingers. Blitzo moaned softly, tail twitching with sexual frustration.

“Fuck. I gotta go wash this shit off,” Striker growled irritably but when he looked up at Blitzo his face shifted right back into that sexy smug smirk. “And I'll give you some alone time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck you,” he snarked back without real heat. “Thanks for the show.”

Striker barked a laugh and turned away to walk towards the house. “You have yourself a good night, Blitz,” he called back to him and Blitzo could hear the shit eating grin in his voice.

“Damn sexy asshole,” Blitzo muttered to himself before awkwardly scrambling to his van for some desperately needed alone time.

—-

And that's all folks!

Please let me know if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

[ Snz Fic Masterlist ]

And I'm taking fic requests for Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel, so feel to send them over. Or feel free to share your headcanons if you got’em!

#snzfucker #sneeze kink #snzblr #snz #snez kink #snz fanfic #snezblr

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mc-lukanette · 10 months

Text

Luka tapped a melody on his leg while he waited for class to end. Having a girlfriend who saved Paris every few days or so, he knew she could handle himself, but there wasn't any support he could provide when he was stuck somewhere and unable to look at his texts.

Not that the risk of getting into trouble would've stopped him, but Marinette would be upset if he got in trouble over her.

She'd sent him the simplest of texts just before his current class, telling him:

One of the students in our class got akumatized... again. Don't worry about sneaking out, I can handle this.

He wanted to be able to look up how it went himself, as well as send her texts of encouragement and congratulations, but now he could only wait.

As he was lamenting his temporary "failures" as a good boyfriend, Luka was brought out of his thoughts, not by the teacher talking but by a small tug on his pant leg.

"...Luka!" a tiny, extremely familiar voice called in a hushed but thrilled whisper.

Being certain that he hadn't gone that crazy (yet) to start hallucinating Marinette's voice only made him more confused. He dropped his gaze to his pant leg to check the source of the voice, and his heart promptly caught in his throat.

Standing there was a miniature version of Marinette, roughly the size of his hand. She was decked out in a gray, black, and pink bodysuit, along with double buns rather than her usual pigtails. The latter, along with the rope "tail" around her waist, made her faintly resemble a mouse. It was an absurd level of adorable even for her.

Luka subtly looked around the room, making sure that no one was looking his way. He couldn't even begin to imagine how she'd gotten there, nor how she avoided being seen, but he did know that he should hide her as soon as possible.

Faking like he'd dropped a utensil of his, he leaned down. Marinette bounced excitedly in response, arms going up the instant his hand was within reach. His skin tingled where her tiny fingers touched, her body smoothly moving along with his movements so he could scoop her up.

He'd chosen to wear a hoodie that day, but dropping her into the hood itself was risky. Someone could easily catch the movement and she'd have to stay perfectly still so as to not puzzle anyone who might sit behind him.

The choice of the pocket at the stomach of his hoodie was the obvious and safest decision, so he slipped his hand into the open slot at one of the pocket's sides to let her go. Unfortunately, he hadn't realized that he was ticklish there until Marinette squirmed about to try and get comfortable.

His poker face saved him from outing his tiny girlfriend's cruelty to the class, though he must've at least gone stiff since he swore he could hear her giggling in realization. What did he do to deserve this?

——

"Not that I'm not happy to see you," Luka began the moment he was able to get away from everyone, "but why are you here?"

He held Marinette in both hands, letting her sit on one and lean against the other. She looked absolutely comfy and proud of herself, crossing one leg over the other as she replied, "I finished the akuma pretty fast, but since the school was already evacuated, we got to go home for the day."

He looked her up and down in a show of but you're not home, you're here, and also the much more obvious, you're pocket-sized.

She chuckled. "Well, after someone told me how unfair it was that I couldn't use my miraculous to make up for all the time I lose being Ladybug, I may have convinced the guardian to let me have the mouse miraculous."

"It lets you shrink?"

She nodded. "Sort of. It divides me." She counted off with her fingers, though not to any particular number. "You can divide yourself into multiple, um, selves? Or versions of yourself? So there are actually a few other Marinette back home taking care of some of my—" She squinted, having confused herself. "—or is it our? Our projects."

Like a fool, he'd truly thought that the whole "adorable tiny mouse girlfriend" thing couldn't get better, but apparently there were multiple of her now.

"Anyway," she said dismissively, brushing off the conundrum, "we figured out how to divide up what we should do, and I was the luckiest." She giggled, clasping her hands together and beaming up at him affectionately. "Sorry if I scared you a little bit, but I really wanted to come. I've always wanted to go to school with you."

"Oh, Marinette..." His voice wavered, touched. "Me too."

He used his thumb to stroke her cheek. Even as tiny as she was, his hearing fixated entirely on the delighted hums she let out at the contact. She leaned her face into his touch, running her hand along the rest of his thumb to return the caresses.

The walk from Marinette's house to his school was excessive for her to walk normally: feasible, but it was never realistic for her to transfer even if they were in the same grade. Ladybug had her yoyo to swing from, but the mouse clearly didn't have anything similar to use, so Luka couldn't imagine a tiny thing like her going all the way from her own house to his school just to see him.

He sighed blissfully, insisting, "I'm the lucky one."

He was sure they'd never be able to agree which of them was luckier, but that wouldn't stop him from voicing his opinion.

——

Unwilling to miss out on an opportunity to have lunch - even if it was just a school lunch - with his girlfriend, he made an excuse to his friends about "his muse acting up." It wasn’t technically a lie, though he still had to bring a notebook to fake like he was working. That was the convenience of having the school he did, meaning that there were a lot of creatively-inclined students who often did the same and thus not a single odd look would be shot his way.

He'd planned it out well enough to get a small table by himself in the corner, allowing him to easily talk to Marinette so long they were careful. There was another notebook opened and propped up behind her, allowing her to hide whilst still having some mobility atop the napkin he'd placed down for her to sit on.

Plus, the one thing he could count on was for teenagers to be teenagers: getting lost in their own conversations and ignoring everything else around them.

"I want to meet your friends properly someday," Marinette admitted while she watched him sort the food he'd put hastily onto his tray. "They sounded nice."

"I'm sure they'd love you," Luka assured, talking softly so to avoid drawing attention. Most people would probably think he was mumbling lyrics to himself. "They already ask about you."

"Wait—" Panic took over her face. "A-and you answered?!" She threw her arms up, gesturing wildly at him. "But you're too biased. What if their expectations are too high?!"

He picked up the apple from his tray, turning it a few times with a critical eye. Unphased by the accusation, he asserted, "I don't exaggerate, Marinette. I just told them exactly how you are."

Once he found what he determined to be the best part of the apple, he broke off a piece to offer to his pouting girlfriend.

"Thank you," she made sure to say, before getting right back to their conversation. "I'm just... nervous. Since I have to deal with hero stuff, I don't have as many chances to prove that I'm a good girlfriend. My DPS has been really bad lately."

"DP—" Luka's face scrunched up in thought. "...That's something from the video games you play, right? Damage... Per Second?"

"I can't believe you remember something like that!" She giggled, delighted. "But yeah, that's what it means, only for this it's Dates Per Strike, as in Hawk Moth striking Paris."

He frowned disapprovingly. "Marinette..."

"I know!" She bit into the apple piece almost aggressively, then swallowed so she could continue, "You don't care about that, but I do. I don't want people to think that I'm not treating you right."

"Let them think whatever they want," he huffed, biting into the apple actually aggressively. He didn't blame Marinette for the mindset that she had to take on as Ladybug - that public opinion was incredibly important - but he hated the idea of her stressing herself out over something so unimportant in her civilian life. She had enough stress as it was and he wouldn't ask her to do anything different even for his own friends.

"Still. I want to do it for me too," she argued. "We can't plan around Hawk Moth. I didn't have much of a life before I became Ladybug, but now..."

He chewed while he considered that, the bad taste in his mouth at how troubled she was overpowering the sweetness of the apple. Even the sticky sensation on his lips was suddenly unpleasant, but as he licked his lips to remove it, an idea struck.

He surveyed the cafeteria, noting that the predictability of the average teenager remained true: they were entirely disinterested in him. It was good, because he'd have no way to explain what he was about to look like.

"Luka?" Marinette called in curiosity, setting her apple piece aside and watching his hand grip the top of the notebook to slide it closer to her. He didn't want to corner her, but he needed the coverage.

His forearm opposite of the hand on the notebook rested on the table for support, allowing him to lean down. Then, bringing his face as close to her as he could, he closed his eyes and placed a kiss against Marinette's shoulder.

"A-ah~!" She squeaked, flailing in surprise. "Luka! W-we're in public!"

It was bold of her to say that after traveling all the way to his school and sneaking into his class just to see him. Doubly bold was her acting as if she was concerned about it when she was audibly buzzing with excitement.

Undeterred, he placed another kiss at the side of her head. Two tiny hands weakly attempted to push his lips away, so he kissed them too, earning another squeak as Marinette recoiled.

Leaning back just enough to look at her without crossing his eyes, he reminded her, "We don't need to plan for that."

She was blushing up to her ears, her words coming out only as sounds while she attempted to calm herself down. He wasn't sure how memories worked out when all the Marinette joined back together, but he'd happily kiss each one of them in the same way just to make sure it stuck.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking away as she admitted, "Y...you're right. I guess we don't need to p-plan for what matters."

Luka smirked, triumphant.

——

The rest of lunch went on uneventfully. Marinette eventually calmed down enough to ask for a bit more of Luka's lunch and he was happy to oblige. It really did feel like they were on a date, and the mental image of her bragging to the other Marinette about it made him chuckle.

When it was time to head out, Luka started cleaning up the table. Marinette stepped off the napkin so he could put it on the tray, and he stashed his inspiration notebook (that actually did end up having some new melodies in it, courtesy of his tiny muse) back in his bag. He only put the other notebook away once Marinette had safely dropped down onto his lap.

"Can I stay in your hood for the rest of the day?" she asked while he was zipping up his bag. "If you put it up, I should be able to hide where it's dark."

He nodded. He wasn't sure why she wanted it, but supposed that it was boring laying in his hoodie pocket and only being able to hear things. At least this way, she could peek out when she was certain no one was looking at him.

He ducked down, feigning that he was picking up his bag from the floor as he brought Marinette up to his shoulder. He waited for her weight to leave his hand, then went and pulled his hood up.

Standing up slowly to allow her time to get into position, he grabbed his bag and put the strap around his shoulder. He was about to pick up his tray as well to take it away, but froze as he felt a tingling sensation against the back of his neck, sending a shiver up his spine.

The giggle that followed led to one conclusion: Marinette must've kissed him there, and it was that moment where he understood her true motives.

"Sorry," he heard her say, not at all apologetically. "I promised the other Marinette that I would give you one for each of us. I'll make sure to spread them out over the rest of our school day though."

He supposed he deserved it this time.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Lukamouse #((Yes there are no timers in this.))

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armpirate · 4 months

Text

Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 20

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 18 minutes

Chapter warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk

San noticed something strange on Y/n when they stopped to have the sandwiches they prepared the previous night for lunch. It wasn't something strange, but it just shocked him to see her sitting with the girls, with the big difference that she didn't turn to him not even once. She was also playing with her food, separating the extreme of the sandwich to take a look inside, and move it back to where it was while she pretended to focus back on the conversation the girls were having. She probably fooled them, but San could tell her laugh was fake, just using it to hide the fact that she wasn't even listening to what they were saying.

Once they were back on the trail, he tried to walk forward to where she was, being called out by Yunho from behind.

—Give her some space.

—Do we have to remind you how you were with Iseul when you started dating? This isn't new —Mingi fought back for San.

—Are you defending San? —Jongho asked, surprised.

—Not really. I owe him fifty bucks —he whispered—. If he heard me, he probably would let it pass.

Yunho simply rolled his eyes, focusing back on the trail as he was not surprised in the slightest at what Mingi was doing.

San held her arm carefully as soon as he reached where she was, getting her eyes to move away from him when she was aware of who it was. After being aware as well, the girls walked a little bit faster to give them the small privacy they could have, by being surrounded by people, allowing them to speak freely.

—Are you okay? —he suddenly asked.

—Yeah, I am —she assured him—. Why?

—You didn't touch your food —he answered, insisting on looking at her to earn one look in his direction—. If you aren't feeling well, I can carry you to the parking lot and call a cab so you don't have to drive to the hospital. No one will know what it is about.

Those words only made her feel more guilty. He was such a genuine and caring person... It only proved to her Wooyoung's words about him, and how she was in no place to play with him in any way.

—San, I'm okay. It's something else —she whispered, lowering her gaze to the floor—. I'll tell you when we're alone.

Looking over her shoulder, she noticed his friends curiously peeking at them. And it was obvious that their body language was screaming about the big issues that were going on between them, as much as Y/n wanted to hide it.

—If they ask you though, tell them that I was dizzy or something —she suggested—. That way they won't tease you about this.

The rest of the walk to the parking lot was in silence, just them walking quietly next to each other, holding back everything that was going through their heads, while the only thing they wanted was to speak up about it.

—Thanks for saving all of our things here —Jongho mentioned taking out his bag and Mingi's.

—My feet are burning —Hongjoong complained, supporting his weight on the side of her car.

—Take a hot bath when we get back home —Seonghwa suggested—. And think about working out or doing some sport, this is because you're turning into a couch potato.

—I'm turning into what?

Wooyoung hadn't known her for long, but he was able to tell there was something wrong with the way she was acting. She went from being an easy-going person to a quiet one in less than four hours. If that bickering had taken place the night she first met the group, she probably would've giggled as she watched that scene, but that time there was no emotion coming from her.

San looked confused when he felt something pulling from his sleeve, finding Wooyoung attempting to move him a bit away from the group to be able to speak to him.

—Did you argue with Y/n?

—No, she just... —he remembered what she suggested to him— she isn't feeling well.

—Is that what she told you? —Wooyoung looked concerned, almost as if he knew what happened to her more than himself.

—Why? Do you know what's up with her?

—Maybe —he whispered—. I didn't think it would affect her so much.

—Jung Wooyoung, what did you tell her?

—I just asked her to take care of you —he confessed—. I'm seeing how hooked you're getting on her, and I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't end up with your heart broken.

—Why would I end up with my heart broken?

—You're not experienced, and you seem so excited that I just thought it was right to speak to her about it. Honestly, I just wanted to tell her to take it easy with you, but it seems like I didn't word it the best way... —he admitted, remembering the words he used.

It made sense why she was setting that distance all of a sudden between them. If what they had was real, she probably would've just taken his words as advice and moved on, but under their circumstances it probably was just another reason to make her feel bad about what was going on between them. And he wished he could get mad at his friend for provoking that, but he could tell Wooyoung only had good intentions with his words. He couldn't get mad at him for that, or even call him out for looking after him.

At first, he thought she was acting so weird because she was feeling strange due to her illness, so it was kind of relieving that the reason for her actions was that conversation instead. At least it was something he could try to work on.

Although no one told him it'd be something easy.

Hopping inside the car, and being met with such a big wall between them wasn't in his mind when he first thought about speaking with her about what they had going on. She only broke the silence to suggest going to her place so they could talk without being interrupted, or without having his friends showing up out of nowhere and cutting up the nature of their conversation.

Her feelings transferred to the atmosphere of wherever they went. San had been to her place a few times, but he never felt like a stranger until that day, feeling like he shouldn't be there. And the main reason for that was the way Y/n walked around nervously, leaving her things near the entrance without looking back at him.

—I know why you're acting like this —he spoke up, poking his hands inside the pockets of his pants.

His words instantly grabbed her attention, seeing her turning around to confront him from her couch.

—And it makes no sense.

Y/n scoffed, looking away while her hands found a stable position on her hips. When she looked back at him, he was a bit closer, walking to her with his eyebrows slightly furrowed, scanning her expression to know what was going through her head.

—It makes no sense, huh? What do you think I'm thinking?

—That you're using me, and that I'm getting nothing in return. That you're playing with me and I'll end up with my heart broken —he confessed—. And that you think it's better to stop it all now before either of us catch feelings.

He wasn't good at reading people's feelings, but with Y/n it was easy, as if he knew her from long ago. It was as if she had all of her thoughts displayed on her face, waiting for her to pick on them and try to fight them back and make them disappear.

—I just think we're still on time to stop this before it goes too far —she suggested—. We already did what we had to do. I don't want us to be confused over what's going on.

—Right, then why are we still around each other?

Y/n knew the answer to that question, but she was too scared of it to even think about it more than as an abstract idea.

—I know to others it's fake, but everything that's happened between us isn't —he continued—. And I know I haven't been in a relationship before, but I'm able to tell apart what's real and what's not. I know we aren't dating, I know we aren't in love like others think. But fuck, Y/n, I do like you. And it's not something that's coming from the relationship.

She knew it, because it was something that happened to her, too. She wasn't hurt because he ghosted her, but because she lost the only real connection she had in years, she lost a person she looked forward to speaking to because he made her feel at ease. And it scared her to see him disappear again. She was scared of him catching fake feelings, being blinded by the small gestures and fake promises they made each other while pretending to date, and giving up on everything after he realized it wasn't real.

She just didn't want neither of them wasting their time, and being hurt over something that could be avoided.

And probably what scared her the most was being hurt over the reality of it, rather than being fooled by the fakeness.

—Why aren't you saying anything?

Her silence was scary. It was as if her words weren't getting through her, as if she wasn't moved by anything he was saying.

—Because I don't know what to say —she admitted.

Y/n wasn't expecting him to bring up the topic, and even less to fight back her thoughts before she was able to open her mouth.

—I wasn't aware before, but after what Wooyoung said... I think we're just heading ourselves into the void.

—Are you sure this is about me and not about you?

And he was right.

—It's about us. I don't want you wasting your time, and I don't want to throw myself into this and end up destroyed with it. I have enough with the company, the sm. But those things are out of my control, this isn't.

—Are you assuming this will become a problem?

—If you go again, it will —she admitted—. I already had a hard time when we only texted. If we keep on with this, and it goes wrong for whatever reason, it'll be way worse. And I'm not sure I want to deal with it at this point in my life.

—And why am I the one that will go? —he fought back— For all I know, you're the one who could get tired of this at any moment. I'm already making my best to fight my limits, but even like this I'm sure you'll end up tired of walking at my pace. I'm still taking the risk.

Y/n sighed, resting her back on the backrest of the couch, letting her legs rest while she just tried to think how to get out of that dead end their conversation reached. She was emotional, but also highly based on analytics. That was what based most of her decisions. And there was no other answer, no other reason as to why they couldn't go on with what they had. Although she wasn't sure if that was the actual reason, or if her emotional side was fighting harder to get what it wanted.

—I didn't know you were feeling that way —she whispered.

They could've ended things after he went to the barbeque, or even earlier, after they went their separate ways in that ice cream shop. But if something pulled them into the nonsense of the fake relationship act, it wasn't the idea of helping the other. It was for the exact same reason why they were having that conversation that night.

—I didn't either —he admitted.

It all came out at the idea of losing a chance with her, his brain just scratched the feelings he had been normalizing to turn them into an encouragement for her to keep going.

—If you're doing this for me, I'll take the risk. I don't care about the result of this, because I'm sure it won't be comparable to what I'll get in exchange —he took a step in her direction—. And if you're doing this for you, I already told you I will support you in whatever you need. The last thing I'm expecting is becoming a burden for you with everything that's happening, even if this doesn't work out. Things don't have to go wrong, but I'm sure you already know that. We won't let it go wrong.

Her silence was deafening, making him feel like it was lost. She wasn't going to give in, her choice was already made, and he was just fighting air for something that was already lost.

A step in his direction made him look back at her, feeling frozen when her lips first crashed onto his. She was standing on her tiptoes, holding his nape with her left hand while she just waited for him to answer that kiss in that soft way he knew how to.

If there were any doubts, they all disappeared when he spoke about them as a collective. It wasn't him, or her. San used "We", letting her know she wouldn't be alone if she gave it a chance, and that was all she needed to realize how that conversation shouldn't have been held in the first place.

His hands held her neck with care at the same time he moved his lips on hers, sucking on her lower lip to drink all of her worries and doubts. And just as if they were connected, her fingers moved to his sides to hold onto his jacket.

—We could give it a chance —she agreed, licking the remains of their spits off her lips.

—If you're worried, we could go slow —San suggested—. Get closer before we make a decision. And when we're ready and sure, either go on or leave it as it is.

When she kissed him again, their lips mixed together so well that he thought he was floating for one second.

Their hands moved at the same time again, exchanging positions when hers moved to enroll around his neck and his moved down at her waist. Something about the way he acted that night was so sexy and attractive, that she lost all control on her thoughts and movements. And the way her fingers slid through the locks of his hair created the exact same feeling on him, having his fingers denting on her skin through her clothes.

A moan escaped her lips when those blind steps took her back against the backrest, with the only difference that San's body was all over hers and his tongue was rolling around hers skillfully.

—Hmm, who taught you how to kiss? —she teased him, licking his lower lip.

—I have a great teacher.

His smirk as he said that was the starting point of how her body was boiling up to a whole new sensation, dragging him back into another kiss. As he attempted to pick her up, he almost lost his balance, ending with Y/n holding on his neck so as not to fall down and her legs wrapped around his thighs while she broke the kiss to laugh.

—It seems easier in movies —he commented out of breath, using one last effort to push her body up again.

Helping him, Y/n impulsed her body up as well, wrapping her thighs around his waist while his hands held her confidently from her thighs.

—You didn't do so bad. Do you think you'll be able to take me to my room?

His smile was enough to answer that question. She linked their lips together again, leading him through another short blind walk. That scene alone had been replying so many times in their heads, that they couldn't believe it was actually happening.

Or not.

Her eyes opened wide through the kiss when she felt his fingers unzipping down the pants that weren't hers, suddenly remembering why she was wearing a pair of pants that weren't hers.

—What's wrong? —he asked, moving back and supporting the weight of his body back on his knees.

—We can't do it —she mumbled.

—Did... Did I do something wrong?

—No, no —she sighed again, scratching her forehead—. But I'm still on my period —she joked.

—Oh, I forgot —one of his hands was placed on her thigh, while the other reassured her by rubbing the thumb on her forearm—. Well, I can keep kissing you though.

She had been waiting for that to happen way too long, thinking of waiting for it to happen again was an idea that couldn't cross her mind. And feeling his growing bulge rubbing against her knee didn't help her think straight.

—Just kissing? —she asked, breaking the kiss again.

Of course he wanted to do more than just kissing, but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. And he didn't mind waiting for her either.

—So you didn't think of fucking me while you carried me here?

How blatant she was made a thick ball of spit almost get stuck in his throat, wondering what was the right way to answer that. She tilted her head, enjoying how nervous he was getting while she waited for the answer, while she slowly unzipped his jacket.

—Well, I... I...

She cut him off, giving him a short kiss on the lips while she moved the fabric of his jacket down his arms.

—And you got so hard with it, even —her hand stopped right at the start of his pants.

—I thought we said we'd go slow —he laughed nervously.

—And I'll go slow —her fingers hooked on the waistband—. Unless you don't want me to do this.

San cursed at himself for looking down, feeling how his brain started malfunctioning at the sight of Y/n looking up to him with such big eyes.

—Shit —he coughed—. Are you sure?

Knowing that was the green light she needed, her lips curved up. She helped him sit right where she was, with her taking the spot in between his parted thighs. That position alone made his dick jump against the thick fabric of his pants, still not believing that was actually happening.

His body was burning, and it had only one reason. He gasped heavily when her fingers finally moved his pants and boxers down, setting him free from the tight prison his underwear was being. Y/n also got rid of her jacket, feeling more comfortable while she settled her hands on his knees.

His dick was exactly how she remembered it: average size, but thick, with some veins marked from his base to his tip, that made her eager to slide her tongue all over.

His hum echoed in her eardrums when she first rolled her tongue around his wet tip, getting that first salty taste she had been fantasizing with ever since she first found his channel. And she could feel the way his hands gravitated all over her head as he struggled to know where to put them, wondering if it'd be too much to place it on her head, but too cold to place it on her arms.

Her fingers hooked around his right wrist, carefully moving it down to the back of her head, giving him that little push he was waiting for.

All of his muscles were tense at the feeling of her lips wrapping around his tip, taking him slowly. He didn't quite know how it'd feel like, he didn't even remember what her fantasies were, but they were surpassed by reality to a whole different level. He thought that he'd be able to feel the beating of his heart on his shaft if he focused enough.

It was so wet, so warm, so tight... he only closed his eyes to feel her and the way he was making his breathing go faster by the minute.

At some point, her hand joined the movements of her mouth, with a soft moan escaping his lips at the sensation.

—Oh, fuck.

Y/n looked up while bobbing her head, pressing her thighs together when she witnessed the image in front of her. Having such a big man to her mercy, with his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed, lightly moaning through his parted lips, was the best of the images. And it didn't compare to the way he looked as he touched himself in front of a camera with her.

His body squirmed at the feeling of something wet dripping down his tip, only stopping at the arch of her hand, that spreaded it all over his shaft.

—Am I making you feel good?

—Fuck, yes —he moaned.

—You taste so good —she sucked again on the tip—, and I can't imagine how good you must taste after you fuck me.

Just the image alone of Y/n naked in front of him, sucking on his dick still glistening with her juices, sent a whole bunch of information that instantly connected with his shaft, not realizing how fast his high was coming until he was unable to stop it.

—Y/n, wait.

As she gave the second stroke, and San moved suddenly backwards, a jet of his load shot straight into her eye. He didn't give her time to complain, except for that loud whine, before he got up from the bed, attempting to walk to her bathroom to get a towel and moisten it with some water to help her clean her face.

Her eye closed tighter every time he moved the towel around her eye, getting rid of every drop of the sticky liquid until her face was clean.

—I'm sorry —he apologized, sitting back on the bed.

—It's not that big of a deal —she tried to calm him down—. Although this is why I don't like cumshots —she joked, trying to ease his worry.

—Where are you going? —he rushed to ask, putting his clothes back on when he saw her getting up from the floor.

—I'll get changed, and clean myself.

—But... I didn't help you.

She didn't need him to say anything else to understand what he meant. She didn't do anything expecting something in return, and she also knew that it'd be uncomfortable if she tried to get him back to do the same thing while she was on her period. And based on past experiences, she wasn't that big of a fan of receiving oral sex.

Doing it in that moment would only set her up for disappointment.

—Another day —she assured him, trapping his chin between two of her fingers to land a soft peck on his lips—. You're staying the night, right?

—Can I?

Y/n just smiled, shaking her head at his reaction.

—I'll clean up and get changed. You can get comfortable.

She sighed heavily after stepping inside the bathroom, regretting for a short moment rejecting him. But the idea of having someone go down on her, while on her period was something that she didn't like. It didn't matter how bad she tried to convince herself on how she would like it if she tried it.

When she got out again, she held back a laugh at seeing San completely dressed, lying uncomfortably over the sheets of her bed.

—Are you going to sleep like that?

—Yeah.

—At least take off the pants and get under the blankets, it'll get cold.

—Won't you be uncomfortable?

—San, I've had your cock in my mouth not even ten minutes ago. And I've seen you naked countless of times. It's quite impossible for me to feel uncomfortable around you.

And she proved how comfortable she felt while she took off her clothes in front of him, throwing it over the floor and walking to her closet to take her pajamas out.

It made him so nervous to upset her somehow, that he didn't want to risk it even with the obvious things. Only after she said it, he took off his pants, dragging the blanket under his body to be able to sneak inside shortly before Y/n joined him.

It was silent, but her thoughts were so loud that he was sure he was able to hear them before she went from lying on her back to looking at him.

—I'm sorry for today —she finally said—. I get too emotional during this time of the month. And it might sound like an excuse, but the illness doesn't help at all. I...

—You don't need to apologize for anything —he cut her off, turning his head to her—. Those were your feelings at that moment, and I'm glad you told me instead of just keeping it to yourself and letting things die.

Her eyes wrinkled at the corner with her smile, making San feel at ease just by looking at her.

—I like you, too.

—Hmm?

—You said before that you like me. And I didn't say it back, but I like you.

She didn't need to say it, he already knew. No one else would've acted with such patience and delicacy, but still those words sounded comforting and filled a space he didn't know he needed to be filled after such a crazy day.

His hand hesitated to reach the top of her head to pat it gently, only for Y/n to move in his direction to lay closer to him right after.

The rush he felt when he felt her getting closer after those words was bigger than any other orgasm he had ever had.

27 notes · View notes

junnieverse · 1 year

Text

LOGICAL ➳ Y. JUNGWON

➙ synopsis: you had known from the beginning that your relationship with jungwon was far from perfect, many would simply put it as toxic because of how manipulative he was but you were too blinded by love that all the lies and deceit felt meaningless. it was too late before you realised how dysfunctional it all was, love wasn't logical after all.

pairing: yang jungwon x gn!reader

genre: angst, lovers to exes au

word count: 1.1k

warnings: not proofread, jungwon is toxic (and so is your relationship with him), reader cries at some point

a/n: this is officially the first one done for the series! I hope you guys enjoy it, reblogs are highly appreciated too! :)

— GUTS X ENHYPEN SERIES MASTERLIST !

Everything had seemingly came crashing down and you were stuck right in the middle of the storm.

It felt like everything you knew that he'd told you was just acid burning through a surface.

Yang Jungwon was no saint. He may have looked like one but, looks can be deceiving.

Everyone had warned you about him and his manipulative ways but you were smitten.

You had fallen for him and hard, nothing anyone said could've stopped you from letting go of him and the deep connection you had.

You were brainwashed, yes, but what made you feel stupid was how long it took you to realise that your relationship with Jungwon really meant nothing to him.

He simply drew you a picture of everything you wanted, the picture perfect relationship with the most perfect boyfriend but you couldn't see the cracks in this little fantasy.

You were mislead into a fake reality that seemed so perfect that you were afraid of losing it.

Only after you saw the truth behind it all did you realise how much control Jungwon had over you.

He made you doubt the obvious and simply believe and stay in the fantasy he'd painted out for you because 2 + 2 actually equals 5 right, it didn't make sense at first but then again nothing in your relationship did and so you just chose to blindly believe whatever and every grain of critical thinking seemingly dispersed slowly.

"I really am a fool huh. I could've stopped it from going on for so long but I let that master manipulator have his way." you say laughing bitterly as your best friend sat beside you rubbing your back comfortingly.

Constantly seeing the signs that he was never a good influence to have around and yet you ignored the warning signs because he made you 'happy'.

You had heard all the rumours about him and yet it went through one ear and right through the other choosing to not believe the truth behind everyone who was trying to protect you from getting hurt.

"Jungwon, who was that girl I saw you with the other day with your friends?" you ask him looking down nervously.

"Hmm? Oh that was... a friend of mine." he says monotonously as he walks past you not bothering to say anything else.

You knew deep down that it was better to trust your gut instincts and they were telling you that he wasn't being completely truthful yet you once again turned a blind eye to your boyfriend mistreating you because the following day he would shower you with gifts and tell you how much he loved you.

He deserved just that much forgiveness right.

You were blind in love and this little world you both had was enough for you.

All you needed was Jungwon to feel complete you thought.

It was evident that you were holding onto something that wasn't pure and sincere, your relationship with Jungwon was nothing but lies and deception but you still saw 'the good side' in him.

How he lead you to believe he was changing, becoming a better man for you.

And yet, the more he lied to you, the more you started believing the things he'd say.

"It's possible for people to change. Jungwon is changing just for me, don't you guys see it?" you tell your friends thinking fondly of him as your friends shared a knowingly worried look between one another.

"(Y/n) snap out of it, Jungwon keeps messing with your feelings, he's gaslighting you." one of them says trying to calmly express herself.

Leaving him wasn't any easy either, you'd been committed for a solid two years now and you weren't willing to throw that away.

He would call you less, he was less affectionate, he was staying out with friends more and he was gradually gravitating away from you.

Everytime you finally had enough of him and would call him out, he somehow found a way to win you over to give him another chance.

"You know I would never hurt you baby. I had too much to drink and did something stupid but you know I'll always love you." Jungwon said holding your hand in his as he wiped your tears with his other hand.

He sure was convincing you thought, he knew which exact poisonous words to use just to have you running back to him.

It was nothing but broken promises and the same story.

He would mess up, you would call him out, you both would get into an argument and he wakes up the next morning begging for forgiveness but never owning up to what he did.

You couldn't let yourself keep suffering like this anymore.

Nothing made sense, you thought he was the perfect guy you fell in love with in the beginning but now you don't know who Jungwon became, better yet maybe this was a side of him he hid from the very beginning like everyone warned you about, but you were slowly losing yourself through the dysfunctionality of your toxic relationship with him.

The fantasy world he'd created for you was crumbling down and you started to see him for who he really was.

You started to see how distorted everything he'd say was only after you finally chose to see the truth.

You thought it was a bright and magical island but this fantasy had it's faults, from the green skies to the red grass... how didn't you see this all before.

"God I'm so stupid." you say thinking back to your past relationship.

You tried making him happy, that was your main goal your entire relationship, to see Jungwon smile and be the reason behind it.

It made you blame yourself thinking you couldn't even keep your own boyfriend happy.

He trapped you.

It all felt like endless drowning and you didn't know when you'd hit the bottom.

Jungwon made sure he had you wrapped around his finger just so he could use you as he pleased and wiggle his way back into your life by painting a false picture of someone he never was... and you fell for it each time.

You both had so many problems in your relationship, very clearly your problems were unsolvable and you just kept trying to make something out of nothing.

Who was to blame but yourself.

You put yourself in this position, you could've stopped it all from the beginning when you realised how all Jungwon did was mistreat you but you didn't.

Because you 'loved him' ?

He couldn't even give you just that much back so why did you put yourself through so much heartache.

"This whole love thing is fucked up." you say looking at your best friend who nods beside you.

Love was never logical but you had to learn it the hard way.

SERIES TAGLIST: @enhastolemyheart @jungwonscafe @firstclassjaylee

124 notes · View notes

deans-baby-momma · 7 months

Text

Anonymously Yours

Will a wrong number lead to love?

BOLD = wrong number's messages

Italics= Y/N's messages

A/N: Thanks to @kazsrm67 for being my beta for this story and also @chriszgirl92 who bullied me into letting her read it before it was posted, who actually found mistakes that had been overlooked. LOL

‘Hey girl! I had fun last night with you. Maybe we can do it again sometime.’

‘Wrong number.’

‘Girl, quit playing! It's me. Did you get so drunk you developed amnesia?’

‘DUDE! It's 6 am. I've been asleep all night. As I said before, wrong number!’

‘Oh come on darlin’. I know you didn't give me a fake number.’

Y/N's phone lights up her face as she reads the last message. This guy just wasn't giving up.

‘Listen Romeo. Whoever you met last night either gave you a random number or you put it in your phone wrong. Sorry but I'm not her.”

‘I can't believe this. This never happens to me. Well, I'm sorry for waking you up. Have a good day.’

Y/N slams her phone down on the mattress and closes her eyes, willing for sleep to overtake her. But it never comes. She can't stop thinking about the poor schmuck at the other end of the conversation.

She sighs as she re-opens her eyes and grabs her phone

‘I'm sorry for being such a bitch. It's early. I didn't sleep well and shouldn't have taken it out on you. I hope you find the girl who fooled you…..but seriously if she just gave you a random number, she probably wasn't all that into you.’

‘Yea. That's pretty obvious. But thanks for laying it out like that. And sorry for waking you up. Again.’

Y/N read the message and then threw the comforter off her body, sitting up and placing her feet on the cold concrete floor of her room.

That's the thing about living in an underground monster-proof shelter….it's always cold! Especially in the deeper quarters, like the bedrooms and restrooms.

But being in the business of keeping the world safe from what goes bump in the night, Y/N and the Winchester Brothers must adapt and overcome the inconvenience of living off the grid.

So, an old defunct Men of Letters safe house is Home Sweet Home for the martyrs.

After using the facilities and brushing her teeth, Y/N heads toward the kitchen area, her stomach growling for sustenance.

She and Sam had spent days researching and analyzing tomes, trying to gather lore on how to kill a Khiksaz, the newest threat to the population. So much so, that it has been close to 24 hours since she had eaten anything.

She was starving!

The delightful aroma of coffee engaged her senses as she neared the kitchen. Inhaling the caffeinated fragrance, she entered the room to get her fill.

Dean, the oldest brother, stood at the stove flipping bacon. The sizzle of the meat met her ears and she hummed in bliss.

Y/N loved Dean's cooking skills. He could turn the most mundane ingredients into a delectable, magnificent meal.

“Good morning sweetheart,” he says as turns to look at her. “Sleep well?”

Y/N sips the hot beverage, letting the liquid brew wake her more and warm her from the inside.

“I guess,” she answers as she takes a seat at the table. “No nightmares, so that's a plus I guess.”

Dean approaches the table with a plate of bacon and pancakes that were warming in the oven and sets it in front of her.

“Progress though, right?”

That's the thing about Dean and Y/N; they share a connection of both suffering from nightmares. Dean’s of Hell and Y/N’s of witnessing her family get murdered by a rugaru while on the annual family camping trip.

The only thing that saved Y/N from the monster who stole her family was the fact that she had stepped out of the tent and wandered into the woods to find a spot to relieve her full bladder. She had watched from her hiding place behind a big oak as the giant beast tore her mother, her father and little brother to shreds. The guttural screams still haunted her all these years later!

“Yea, I guess so,” she admitted. “But I also feel like if I don’t dream about them, it means I’m forgetting them.”

“I know sweetheart,” Dean says from his side of the table as he pours a generous amount of molasses on his hotcakes. “But I’ve told you before. Just because you don’t dream about them doesn’t mean they’re not still in your thoughts; doesn’t mean you don’t love them or miss them anymore.”

“Yeah,” Y/N answers forlornly. “I know you’re right.”

She takes a bite of her own breakfast and moans obscenely at the burst of flavor.

“So how was your night?” she asks, knowing Dean had left to search for a hook-up to take his mind off the monotony of research. “Did you find some willing girl to get your rocks off?”

That’s another thing about Dean and Y/N’s relationship-friendship; they were crass and blunt with one another. They were like two peas in a pod. And it all started when Dean came to Y/N for advice on what exactly women want in a hook-up.

FLASHBACK

“Y/N,” Dean says as he sits at the table where she had been scouring an old journal she’d found in the library. “You’re a female, right?”

The question catches Y/N off guard and she laughs. “Yes, Dean. Unless I’ve been cursed in the last 5 minutes, I am a female. I have a vagina and boobs.”

“Smart ass,” Dean says with a smile. “Can I ask you something though? Something that only another female might understand.”

“Sure, Dean. What is it?”

“What do women look for in a hook-up?”

“I’m going to be blatantly honest with you here,” she says and continues once Dean nods. “Plain and simple. To get off. Someone who knows what to do with what the good lord gave him. We don’t really care about size but if you don’t know how to use what you got, we have to do It ourselves. And while that gets the job done, it's not as fun. As the saying goes, ‘It's not topside of the boat; it's the motion of the ocean’.

“So, Mr. Winchester,” Y/N smirks as she places her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her palms. “Do you know how to use what you got?”

She smiles as she notices the blush creeping up his neck. Who knew Dean Winchester could get flustered so easily?

Y/N would be lying if she said she'd never noticed how handsome Dean Winchester is. She has eyes with perfect vision, she can see the sex appeal. But she swore to herself that she would never be the fly caught in his web.

Dean Winchester was a player and a philanderer. He didn't do romantic relationships. Something else they had in common.

Y/N found out very early in her adult life that her choice of profession didn't lead to having a partner who understood the need, the commitment to keeping others safe from attacks of the paranormal.

So, much like the oldest Winchester, she sought out one-night stands, a love-em-and-leave-em situation was what worked best.

“Awww is Dean-o embarrassed? Well, tell me this then. Canoe, yacht or cruise ship?”

Dean flips her off and pushes up out of his chair and rushes off down the hallway, Y/N's laughter following him.

END FLASHBACK

After breakfast was finished, with Sam popping in after his early morning run to mix up a smoothie Y/N and the Winchesters gathered in the library to research more about the Khiksaz.

About an hour and one less brother later, Y/N's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulls it out and notices it's the same number from earlier with another text.

‘You single? There's not some big burly man out for my head for waking you up this morning is there?

‘No worries Romeo. Single as a Pringle over here.’

‘That's good. You seem nice.’

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. This morning she had been bitchy and quite frankly rude to this stranger and he just called her nice.

Sam looked up from the book he was reading, an eyebrow raised in question.

“Sorry. Just read something funny on my phone.”

As soon as Sam was once again studying what he was reading, Y/N began texting her new friend.

‘Is that your way of asking to be friends?’

‘What if it is? What would your answer be?’

Y/N left him on Read as she contemplated his question. Would it be so horrible to befriend this guy? She knows nothing about him and he knows nothing about her. It could remain anonymous and be something to get her through the boring task of research.

‘It stays anonymous. You don't ask my name and I don't ask yours. We'll keep it casual unless one of us has a bad day. Then we'll help the other out. No pictures, no voice messages, no videos. Capichè?’

‘You sure do drive a hard bargain RG. But okay.’

‘RG?’

‘Yea. Regina George….you know the bitchy bitch from Mean Girls.’

‘Are you seriously calling me a bitch this early in the friendship?!’

‘NO!!! God no! You said it yourself this morning. You apologized for being a bitch. Sorry. I'll come up with another name for you.’

‘Oh. Haha. You got me. Okay, Regina or RG is fine.’

‘Good because I already gave you that moniker in my phone.’

The rest of the afternoon consisted of researching this new species of monster and texting Romeo, as he was now labeled in her phone.

Dean was once again absent from the library after he had brought in some sandwiches he had whipped up.

As evening approaches, Sam and Y/N were still poring over the lore and taking notes. Dean walks Into the library with a whistle on his lips and his keys twirling around his finger.

“See ya later nerd,” he calls out as he heads up the stairs.

“Wrap it before you tap it,” Y/N yells.

“Fuck you!”

“No thanks.”

And then he was gone. Off to find some floozy in a bar to make him forget the awful world they live in.

Y/N retired to her room around midnight, her eyes tired and her back aching from leaning over all day.

As she changes into her pajamas She hears her phone ding with a message.

‘You awake?’

‘No. I'm sleeping peacefully. Ha! I just climbed into bed. What's going on?’

‘Eh. Nothing much. Just lonely.’

‘Lonely? You mean Romeo didn't go out and try to find another conquest?’

‘Not really in the mood. Just wanted to have a conversation that didn't lead to anything.’

‘Okay. So tell me about your day.’

Y/N laid in bed, reading texts about Romeo's job in pest control and how he hated that customers would call him in about their problems but when he eradicated the vermin there was no appreciation, no gratitude.

She tells him about her work as customer service and how she suffers the same fate.

‘The adage “The Customer is Always right” is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit!’

‘I feel you there sister.’

The two of them keep texting back and forth throughout the night until Y/N hears Dean’s early morning return from wherever he’d been. She made a note to sanitize Baby’s backseat before their next trip.

She listens to his footfalls approaching and then continues past her room to reach his, further down the hallway.

‘God this night sucks! I just want to fall into bed and sleep. Text tomorrow, bestie?’

‘Tomorrow Romeo.’

That night, Y/N’s sleep is plagued with nightmares. They consist of the anonymous person on the other side of the phone. As the night continues the images behind her eyelids morph into more pleasant ones. Her dream guy is tall, muscular with beautiful features and a complete sweetheart; a complete and adorable heartthrob.

She wakes the next morning with a smile on her lips and an urgent need to masterbate. She sends out a silent thank you to the girl who gave out the wrong number; before making her way to the bathroom.

A week later, Sam and Y/N finally had enough knowledge and data on the Khiksaz for the three of them to venture out to the small community of Sikeston, MO and take this monster on.

With help from the immense amount of lorebooks and tomes in the library of the Bunker, they figured out that a Khiksaz was a phantasm from a tribes of Arabian descent that had been captured and stored for millennia in a handspun clay jar after the spirit ripped through the older members of the tribe and began to beseech the still infantile and juvenile members to allow it to lead them.

One of the oldest chiefs, a religious man, conjured up a binding spell that captured and trapped the Khiksaz creature into the urn for all eternity. Unfortunately, someone in Missouri had come across the container and, not knowing what it contained, unleashed the beast which was causing chaos and devastation in the small town.

Sam and Y/N had worked mercifully at creating a copy of the enchantment and found a similar vessel to once again apprehend the offending spirit.

It was a 9 hour drive that took Dean only 7 to accomplish. Once they were checked in and unpacked, the three of them set out to make sure they had what they needed to accomplish the job.

Well, Sam and Y/N did. Dean sulked and flipped through the television channels until he found an old John Wayne western to watch.

Y/N felt her phone buzz in her pocket, but she was too busy perusing the spell once again to check.

After a few minutes, Dean huffed and turned the tv off and announced he was going out to find some fun in this one-horse town.

Y/N had had enough of his attitude for the last few days. He had been agitated and snippy at them both.

“God damn Dean! We are here to get this Khiksaz not for you to get your dick wet in some strange pussy!”

“Don’t you fucking worry about where my dick is going!” Dean yells back. “I don’t need a cunt to get off. My hand works just fine. I just need a drink or twelve.”

“Asshole!” Y/N says, stepping up to the older Winchester and getting in his face.

“You’re insufferable! I’ll see you two when I see you.”

He steps toward the door, throws a middle finger sign over his shoulder and sings, “Don’t wait up.”

Y/N growls. She literally and audibly growls.

“What the hell is his problem?!” she asks, rhetorically.

“He’s Dean,” Sam tries to reason. “You know how he is.”

“Yea, he’s a giant asshole.”

Once the two of them get the spell and weapons, along with the container to hold the Khiksaz in, they decide to go find something to eat.

While waiting on Sam to use the restroom, Y/N pulls her phone from her pocket to see a text from Romeo.

‘How you doin’?”

‘Friends fan huh? So maybe I should call you Joey. By the way, that is the lamest pickup line ever.’

‘I thought it was pretty good. In the 90s. It worked a few times.’

‘Yes I tried it.’

‘An no, I’m not hitting on you’

‘I don't know whether to be pleased or offended.’

‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Never mind. So what are you doing?’

‘Getting ready to head out and get a bite to eat.’

‘Alone?’

‘Nope. My brother is coming with.’

‘Oh. You have a brother? So do I.’

‘Cool. What are you doing? I thought we were keeping this anonymous?’

‘You're right. No deep seated questions about one another. Sorry.’

‘Feeling like a jerk. A co-worker of mine and I got into it and I said some things I didn’t mean and now I regret it.’

‘So go apologize.’

‘Yea. I probably need to. ‘

‘Go apologize Romeo. Or I’ll send my brother to kick your ass.’

‘You make your brother do all your dirty work?’

‘I don’t make him do anything. But anyway, he’s out of the bathroom now so I’ll catch you on the flip side.’

‘And go apologize.’

As they walked across the highway to the diner, Sam brought up the texting.

“You have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” Y/N answers sheepishly. “Just a friend….who might be a guy.”

She waits until after the waitress takes their order before delving into the whole story of how some random guy began texting her because he was given the wrong number by a girl.

“Ouch! That’s harsh.,” Sam says. “But what do you know about this guy? Is there a reason the girl gave him a fake number?”

Y/N shrugs as she takes a sip of water. “I dunno. Like, he seems nice. And we get along. But just through text. I don’t even know his real name. I called him Romeo in jest and it kind of just stuck.”

“You don’t even know his name?! Does he know yours?”

“No,” Y/N laughs at the ridiculousness of it. “He refers to me as Regina or RG.”

Sam looks at her confused so she explains.

“Regina George from Mean Girls. I was kind of a bitch to him, like Regina is to everyone in the movie. I didn’t take offense to it. I thought it was quite hilarious.”

“Let me see your phone,” Sam says, holding his hand out for it.

Y/N watches Sam scroll through her contacts until he gets to ‘Romeo”. He opens the information tab and studies it. His lips pull into a quarter smile as he closes the phone and hands it back.

“What?”

“What, nothing? What was the smile for?”

“What smile? I’m just happy you made a friend outside Dean and I. I mean, you gotta be careful because of our line of work. But I like that you have someone else to talk to.”

“Oh.”

The waitress brings their food and the subject is dropped. Their attention and concentration goes back to the job at hand and they discuss how to lure the Khiksaz out and distract it while the incantation is said.

In the early morning hours, Y/N is awakened by Dean stumbling into the room, blitzed out of his mind. He staggers to the mini-fridge and pulls out a bottle of water, opening it and downing it.

Between the smell of booze and the aroma of some of the most fragrant perfume, Y/N can’t help but gag. Dean notices the involuntary movement and shakes his head.

He cautiously walks to the bed and sits down beside Y/N.

“Are you here to gloat?” she whispers. “I really don’t want to hear about your sexcapades with some poor hometown girl.”

“Y/N, we’re friends right?” Dean says instead and it shocks her.

“Yes, Dean. We’re friends.”

“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to call you an uptight cunt.”

“Um, Dean? You didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. On the drive over to the bar. I called you an uptight cunt and a self-righteous prude and I’m sorry.”

“All is forgiven,” Y/N says, burrowing her nose into the pillow. “But please go shower and wash that stink off you before I puke!”

Dean chuckles. “Yes ma’am.”

Unfortunately the next day does not go to plan at all. Both Winchesters and Y/N are thrown around while fighting and trying to capture the Khiksaz. Sam ends up with a concussion but Y/N breaks a couple of ribs.

With horrible dictation, Dean gets the spell read and the monster is once again bottled up and will make the trek back to Kansas to be stored away in the dungeon of the Bunker.

Y/N feels every curve and bump in the road of the 647 mile trip. Broken ribs are uncomfortable and painful when you're lying still but Dean insists on driving like a bat out of Hell.

He is on a tangent about how the information they had to the Khiksaz wasn’t complete and they didn’t know it had powers and how it’s his fault for leaving the research up to the two of them.

Sam tries in vain to reason with his hard-headed brother.

“We don’t always know everything about the monsters we go up against. This is just another instance!”

“Yea. Well-”

“Well, nothing! This hunt was no different than when we went up against that Wendigo or the rugaru that killed Travis! What?! Is it because Y/N got hurt? Is that why you're so pissed off?”

“We all got banged up; it's not just her,” Dean defended. “You have a concussion for Christ's sake!”

“And your brooding and griping isn't helping. Let's just call it a win and move on. Please!” Y/N pleaded from the backseat. “And Dean? Slow the fuck down! You're killing me back here.”

Knowing that his erratic speeding and Baby's lack of sufficient suspension is probably agonizing with busted ribs, he took his foot off the gas.

“Sorry sweetheart,” he apologizes. “I just want to get back to Bunker to rest and recuperate. I'll go slower.”

The rest of the ride was quiet and uneventful, other than when Sam tried to fall asleep and Dean blasted Metallica to keep his brother awake.

Once parked in the garage, Dean hurried to help Y/N sit up and get out of the car and hovered around her as she made her way to her room.

“You need anything, just holler okay?”

“Thanks Dean.”

As soon as he was out of the room and the door was closed, Y/N pulled her phone out.

‘I've had a shitty day at work. Tell me a joke.

There was no response for the longest time; so long Y/N began wondering if Romeo had actually blocked her.

‘Did you hear about the Italian chef that died?’

‘No. What happened?’

‘He pasta-way!’

‘OMG! They was corny as fuck!’

‘Forrest Gump’s email is 1forrest1.’

‘That one is no better. Lol. But they made me smile. Thank you Romeo.’

‘You're welcome Regina. Wanna tell me about your day?’

‘Nah, that's okay. It was just another one dealing with ungrateful, unappreciative customers.’

‘How was yours?’

‘Honestly, about like yours. Customer called with a rodent nuisance and I took care of it. Customer never acknowledged it.’

‘People suck!’

‘Yes, they do.’

The phone was silent for a few minutes before it buzzed again with an incoming text.

‘I ordered a chicken and an egg online. I'll let you know which comes first.’

‘Ya know, I'm starting to understand why that girl gave you the wrong number. You. Are. A. Dork!’

‘You asked for it missy! I am quite offended. I'm the farthest thing from a dork. I'm suave and charming for your information!’

‘And a dork. But you made me smile with your silly dad jokes. So thank you.’

‘Glad I could make you feel better. Our conversations make me happy.’

‘Same goes for me. But I'm getting pretty tired so I'm gonna try to get some shut eye. Good night Romeo. :*’

Y/N's eyes widened as she realized what she had done. She'd sent him a kiss face! A stranger! Someone she didn't really know.

What if he took that the wrong way? They had agreed to be anonymous friends. FRIENDS, nothing more. So why did she send him that?

What did it mean?! Was she developing feelings for this mysterious man?

She thought back to just a few nights ago, the erotically passionate dream she'd had with what she imagined this stranger to look like.

She reminisced of her dream Romeo kissing her breathless, worshiping her body as if it were a temple; of how they had fervidly made love into the early morning hours. He had brought her pleasure numerous times!

Oh fuck! She was falling for him.

‘Sweet dreams darlin’ :*’

Y/N laid awake for hours, contemplating on how to handle the knowledge that she was falling for the stranger.

How was it possible to develop feelings for someone you've never met, someone you'd never laid eyes on. Hell, she didn't even know the sound of his voice.

Around dawn, she decided she would no longer exchange messages with him and as soon as her body was healed, she was going to go find some willing guy to fuck Romeo's memory away.

Of course, she was awakened by her phone alerting her that a text was waiting.

‘Good morning beautiful’

‘You're probably still asleep’

‘I just can't get you out of my head’

‘Maybe we should break the anonymous rule and meet?’

Y/N read each of the lines over and over, each time making her heart drop. She didn’t know what to do.

She began to think that maybe she should’ve just ignored and erased his first message; when she realized it was a complete stranger who had accidentally texted the wrong number. She shouldn't have engaged with him. Now she was in this predicament. Of course, this is how her life is, fucked up and confusing as hell!

Y/N silences her phone and rolls out of bed carefully. The motion takes her breath away as her broken ribs shift with the motion. She makes her way to the door and down the hallway toward the bathroom, only to be almost bowled over when Sam, dripping wet and shirtless, comes barreling out of the bathroom.

“Oof.”

“Oh god Y/N. I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, profusely. “I didn’t expect you to be out of bed. Dean said he was going to bring you breakfast.”

“That’s sweet of him,” Y/N responded with a smile. “But that doesn’t negate my bladder issues.”

Sam laughed and stepped to the side. “Yea, I guess not. So, ummm…I guess I’ll come check on you later?”

“Okay,” she says as she closes the door to the communal bathroom and shuffles to the row of toilets. As she went to sit, she realized that the mundane task was hindered; she couldn’t bend without excruciating pain radiating from her thorax.

Even though her bladder was yelling at her to be emptied, Y/N stood and studied the ancient throne. With a small shrug, she grabbed the roll of tissue and tore off a few squares of paper before pulling her leg out of one side of her sleep pants and straddling the seat.

After cleaning up-because peeing like a man isn’t as easy for a woman as you’d think- Y/N heads back to her room, where as Sam said, Dean was waiting with a tray of eggs, bacon and coffee.

“Oooh, nectar of the Gods,” Y/N says as she reaches for the hot beverage. “Thanks Dean!”

“You’re welcome. How’re you feeling?”

“I’ve been better. I can tell you that,” she answers. “I’m going to try to wrap them later.”

“I can help you do that,” Dean says as he watches her sit on the bed before sitting the tray of food on the table. “You probably can’t get it tight enough.”

“M'kay.”

A few hours later

“Dean, I swear to Chuck if you try to cop a feel, I’ll kick your ass!”

“Oh be quiet, Y/N/N. It’s not like I haven’t seen them before,” Dean teases.

And he was right. On a couple occasions the eldest Winchester had been witness to Y/N’s top half of her body exposed; whether it’d be walking into the bathroom as she was exiting the shower or when she got wasted at that bar the three hunters visited and she flashed the whole crowd as she finished singing “Natural Woman” by Aretha Franklin; well butchered it would be a better word as she couldn’t hit a single good note in her inebriated state.

But she was being ogled by a fellow patron and was feeling frisky so after placing the mic back on the stand, she flipped her shirt up and flashed the whole bar. Her bra covered the main parts but it had been a ragged one and didn’t hide much.

So, yea Dean and Sam and half the community of Bumfuck, NM had seen her tits.

“I know,” she giggles and then groans as he wraps the gauze around her torso tightly. “Motherfuck! That hurts.”

“Cry baby,” Dean jokes.

“Let me kick you in your balls and see how you feel,” Y/N threatens.

“Hey now. If I can’t grope you, you aint groping me!”

“You’re such a dork!” Y/N says and they both laugh.

“Okay, you’re all bandaged up now,” Dean says as he hands her her shirt. “Go on and get redressed.”

As soon as Dean leaves, Y/N feels her phone buzzing in her pocket.

‘Regina? Are you there?’

‘Did I scare you off?’

‘Could you please answer me?’

‘Please?’

Y/N pockets the device and heads back to her room. How is she going to answer him? Is she?

She sits on her bed and stares at the phone as it begins vibrating again.

‘I’m sorry. Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry.’

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she answers.

‘I’m here. I’m fine. No you didn’t scare me off. You actually didn’t do anything. I did. We agreed to be friends and I went and let my feelings take control and didn’t even realize it until I sent you the emoji after my message.’

‘I know you aren’t interested in me. I know I’m just the consolation prize for the busty brunette or blonde, maybe even a redhead, that you were really hoping to talk to and text. I won’t hold it against you if you want to stop texting. No need to meet in person to tell me.’

Y/N reads over her message a couple times before hitting send and laying her phone down. It immediately starts ringing.

Romeo calling…..

Fuck!

‘I’m not answering you.’

The phone stops ringing and then a message comes through.

‘You have it all wrong, darlin’. You are not a consolation prize…not even close! I wanted to tell you, to say the words to you. But you won’t answer so I’ll just type them. I’ve fallen for you too.’

‘Don’t just say that to appease me. I’m a big girl. I can take rejection’

‘Baby, rejection is the last thing on my mind. Will you please answer the phone?’

Y/N reads Romeo’s last message a few times before she opens the chat box and responds.

‘No. But I will agree to meet you. Work is going to be pretty busy for the next few weeks and I won’t have much free time. So, how about two months from now we meet at a mutually agreed upon place and see where this goes?’

‘Deal.’

Y/N knew that in a couple months her ribs would be healed enough to not raise any questions or alert Romeo to the fact that she fights monsters for a living and not existing in a dead-end customer service job as she had alleged to.

The next few days, Sam and Dean went on a couple little salt-and-burns, leaving Y/N at the Bunker to continue healing.

Y/N and her mysterious Casanova texted continuously, getting to know one another better and just regaling one another with childhood memories and stories.

It was nice; it was befitting for two strangers to become acquainted. Y/N still refused to actually speak to the man she had feelings for. The secrecy was thrilling to her and she preferred the voice he had in her now-nightly dreams.

To pop that bubble by finding out he had a high pitched, nasally voice would be most crushing.

Of course, she hadn't told Romeo her real past. He knew her parents had passed, but she claimed a car accident took them from her.

She felt terrible for lying to him but how do you tell someone that your parents were killed by a beast that isn't supposed to exist?

What Y/N doesn't know though is Romeo had lied to her about his past also.

When Sam and Dean returned from their latest hunt, neither one of them acknowledged Y/N or said a word.

Both Winchester stomped to their respective rooms and she heard one door slam right after the other did.

“What's gotten into them?” she wondered aloud before going back to reading the book she had found. It was an erotic novel.

Greg cups her cheeks in his hands and he leans into her, closing the distance until their lips meet. His were soft and plump against her thin, chapped ones, but the lack of moisture on her lips was the last thing on her mind. He licked the dry vessels until she obliged opening them, inviting him in to taste her.

Greg’s, Romeo’s moans filled her ears as he explored her mouth, his tongue wrestling with hers.

Layla Regina threw her arms over his shoulder and planted her hands against the back of his head, pulling her lover closer and deeper into herself.

They stumble and almost fall but right themselves before hitting the bed, her on her back and his weight pushing her into the mattress. As his hands begin wandering her body, Regina silently begs for his hand on her most intimate area. As his palm slides down the skin of her abdomen, she wonders if her prayers were heard.

After becoming so enthralled with the book that she was even substituting her and Romeo’s nicknames into the plotline she missed the sound of Dean’s boots thudding down the corridor.

“What has you all dreamy-eyed and drooling?”

Y/N jumps in her seat and slams the novel shut, internally lamenting the fact that she didn't mark her place for later indulgence.

She looks up to see Dean standing at the mouth of the hallway, a couple of beer bottles in his hand.

“Are you reading porn?” he asks with a laugh and a smirk.

“It's a romance novel, dumbass!”

“Eh, same thing,” Dean shrugs as he steps toward her and offers her one of the beers. “Romance guy woos the damsel right into his bed.”

“So, you know oh so much about this subject, I take it you've read a lot of romance novels?” Y/N snarks.

“You know as well as I do, life doesn't happen that way,” Dean says instead of answering her. “It's a lot more messier and a lot less loving.”

“Are you telling me you don't woo all those unwitting hookups you have? Not even just a little bit?”

“Oh no. I woo the hell out of them. Tell them exactly what they want to hear-” he takes a drink then continues. “Then I get what I'm after and leave before daylight. Easy in, easy out.”

“You are a real piece of work Dean,” Y/N says with a laugh. “Those poor women probably think they've finally found the man of their dreams and the poof! you're gone.”

“Oh like the schmucks you hook don't know you're a one and done?” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “I've heard them before, telling you all their hopes and dreams. I've heard them during, thinking you are ‘the best they ever had’- their words, by the way- and then you're usually in the back of Baby before Sam's even gone for his run.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N laughs, trying to hide the embarrassment of the fact Dean has heard some of her excursions. But that's what you get when you stay in cheap motel rooms with thin walls. “That was one time! And he was a clingy fucker. Always had to be touching me; my face, my hands, my hips. Hell he even tried to suck my toes. Eww!” she shivers at the memory. “I couldn’t get away fast enough.”

They both laugh and then it goes quiet as they drink.

“So, um…” Dean begins. “Girls, ahem women, don't like that? The touching?”

“No. I mean yea we love an attentive man but sometimes it just takes away from the whole experience. Touch me all you want, run your hands all over me. Play with my tits, my clit…hell a little ass play ain't out of the cards but once he's inside me, I expect to get fucked! Not just filled and rubbed. Use that dick and make me feel it. Ya know? It's inside me for a reason.”

Dean shifts and adjusts his body in his chair and clears his throat. “Okay. Okay. I get that but let's change the subject.”

“Oh is Deanie-poo getting turned on?” Y/N jests. “You got a big ole boner under this table?”

“Shut up Y/N,” Dean mutters before getting up and bolting back toward his room, his half-empty beer bottle still on the table.

Y/N shakes her head and laughs before opening her book to try to find the place she left off at.

Why is it that time crawls when you are looking forward to something?

Y/N's ribs are slowly healing, thanks to the Winchesters generous and considerable care. They both made sure she was taking it easy and mending.

Sam always made her stretch and exercise what she could so her muscles wouldn't lock up and get sore while Dean kept her fed and hydrated and in good spirits with his complete goofy foolishness.

Y/N also noticed that as time went on and closer to her “date” with Romeo, Dean began to get happy and cheerful and just completely giddy.

Not like him at all. She'd also noticed he went out a lot more than usual. Once the day was done, Dean would disappear with only the sounds of his beloved Impala leaving the compound behind.

Does he have a girlfriend? Has he met someone and is unofficially officially dating? Who is she? When will she and Sam get to meet her? Will they?

Y/N didn't put much more thought into Dean's disappearance because truth be told, she had her own secret. She was in deep with Romeo.

They had texted regularly after their proclamation and had even done a little sexting.

Nothing too graphic, just a few descriptive words here and there and talking about using and touching. But it was enough to make Y/N wet and yearn for the day she finally sets eyes on her Romeo.

‘What are you wearing, gorgeous?’

Y/N smiled as she read the words on the screen.

‘Wouldn't you like to know.’ she teased.

‘I wouldn't have asked if I didn't.’

‘I'm sitting on my bed in a lace bustier with the matching thong. I'm so lonely Romeo.’

‘Is that an invitation? Because I can be there in no time at all.’

‘Haha. I’m only joking with you. I’m sitting here in an old pair of ratty sweats and a tee-shirt that had way too many stains to be presentable. My hair is up in a bun on top of my head but most of it has already fallen out and is just blowing in my face. I do not want you to see me like that at all.’

‘So when we meet in a few days, I still won’t get to see the real you? You’re going to be all dolled up and not the picture of perfection that you just described.’

‘Romeo, believe me….NO ONE wants to see this.’

‘I do. I am going to be honest with you. I am tired of going out and hooking up with people who don’t show their true selves. Who lie about who they are, what they do….give out random wrong numbers. I’m ready to be with a real person.’

‘Wow. That is honest. And truthfully, I feel the same.’

‘Maybe getting the wrong number was an omen. Someone up there believes we are both ready for something substantial. Shit, duty calls. I’ll text you soon :*’

As soon as Y/N read Romeo’s last message, Sam was knocking on her door.

“Come in,” she calls and the tall, long-haired man peeps around the open door.

“Just got off the phone with Jody. She needs help. I called Dean and he’s coming to pick me up and head to Sioux Falls. Wanted to let you know.”

“Okay. What’s Jody got?”

“Sounds like a cursed object wreaking havoc. A couple of bodies have come up….” Sam begins to explain and Y/N pushes herself off the bed and begins throwing items in a bag. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

“I’m coming with, I’m tired of sitting here by myself. Don’t worry,” she says as Sam gives her a pointed look. “I will stay away from the line of fire so to speak. I can hang with Claire and Alex or something.”

“Okay,” Sam answers, skeptically. “I don’t know if the girls are even home. You know, Claire has been hunting and Alex….well, she has her own friends now. You might be stuck at Jody’s by yourself so how’d that be different than staying here?”

“Sammy,” she says, patronizingly. “Jody’s has windows and sunshine and warmth and just please let me go?”

“Yea I guess I can see your point,” Sam answers and Y/N pumps her fist in the air before finishing packing. “By the way, Samuel, were you calling me old? When you said the girls might not even be there? Insinuating that they wouldn’t want to be saddled with the old, hurt woman?”

“Shut up, Y/N” Sam says with a smile. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

Dean didn’t seem surprised at all when Y/N threw her bag into the back seat of the Impala and climbed in. He just nodded and as soon as everyone was loaded, took off toward South Dakota.

“Y/N!” Sheriff Mills exclaims as we all exit Baby. “I didn't expect you to come. But am I glad you did.”

She hugs me and whispers in my ear, “I sure could use another female to talk to.”

“I'm here,” I whisper back and then pull away from her embrace. “I'm gonna crash on your couch while these two help you with your case.”

“Good. Good.”

She turns to the Winchester and greets them with their own hugs. After the warm welcome, the three of them head toward the station to discuss the case.

Y/N pulls the erotic novel she's reading and heads to the park across the street and sits at a table.

Opening to the page she marked, she immerses herself back into the story. As she continued reading about the marriage of Greg and Layla, the fictional characters in the story, she began fantasizing about another wedding; one that featured herself and Romeo.

She is brought back to the present when her phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out to see a message from the man she can't seem to quit thinking about. She smiles as she reads the words, remembering how she felt as they vowed their lives to one another.

‘Another day, another rodent to take down. Please tell me your day is better’

‘Not really. This seminar is taking forever.’

Before Romeo can respond, she hears Dean call her name and she turns to see him slide his phone into the front pocket of his jeans as he heads to the Impala.

“We're heading to Jody's,” he announces. “You coming?”

Y/N hurries to mark the place she thinks she left off at and shuts the book before jogging across the empty road to get to the Impala.

“Did you figure out what’s going on this time?”

“We think it’s Lamia,” Sam answers. “Bobby went up against one, years ago but he put it through a wood chipper so this is not the same one but it’s the same M.O. They look female and seduce men and then choke them and eat their hearts.”

“Ew. Well, where’re we going to find a woodchipper?”

“We’re not,” Dean says. “I’m going to pretend to be the victim and then stab it with a blessed silver knife and burn it.”

“That’s risky,” Y/N states, worry about her friend filling her with dread.

“Well…” Dean says with a shrug and the conversation ends.

They pull into Jody’s driveway to see the Sheriff having a very animated conversation with her surrogate daughter, Claire.

They watch through the windshield as Jody hugs Claire and then the young blonde heads toward an old jalopy of a car and takes off.

“That girl is going to be the death of me,” Jody exclaims and her three guests join her. “Come on in guys. I’m making lasagna.”

That night, after helping Jody with the dishes, Y/n and the Sheriff join the Winchesters on the back deck of Jody’s modest ranch-style home.

The conversation flows but no one brings up the case at hand.

Y/N notices Dean is distracted and keeps looking down at his lap and wonders if he is beginning to regret his role as the Lamia’s victim.

‘Just to let you know. Something’s come up and I gotta leave town for a few days so you might not hear from me for a while. Just know I will be back for our date. I’m looking forward to it.’

Y/N reads the message and smiles. She’s been looking forward to it also.

‘Be safe and I’ll talk to you soon :*’

After the guys go up to bed, Jody and Y/N finish their glass of wine and stargaze.

“So what’s new with you?”

Y/N turns her head, looks at the older woman and smiles.

“I have a date.”

“Oooo, tell me more. Who is he? Does he know about….?” Jody begins badgering her with questions.

“I don’t know his name. I call him Romeo; it’s a joke between us. He, uh…..a few weeks ago, someone apparently gave him a fake number and he texted it but it wasn’t exactly fake. It was mine. We’ve been texting back and forth since and agreed to meet.”

“Oh,” Jody says, looking apprehensive.

“What is it?”

“How do you know this ain’t some demon or monster just trying to get to you and the boys Y/N?

“I’ve thought about that, Jod. I’m wearing my silver rings and I’ll have a flask of holy water to spike his drink if need be,” Y/N explains. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.”

“Sounds like,” Jody chuckles and then lightly punches Y/N in the shoulder. “You gotta tell me all about it, though. Even the juicy parts, especially the juicy parts. Damn, I ain’t got laid in forever. I need to find a man.”

They both laugh and then settle back down and stargaze some more before heading inside and going to bed.

Dean Winchester almost becomes the Lamia’s fifth victim. If it hadn’t been for his fast thinking brother, Dean would’ve succumbed to the creature’s power and be dead.

Although he was alive, it was only barely. The Lamia had sucked so much blood from his body that he was unconscious for days.

Sam and Y/N had maneuvered him into the backseat of the Impala and raced back to the Bunker, hoping to find something to revive the oldest Winchester.

While they waited and researched, Y/N realized that she hadn’t heard from Romeo in almost a week. Their date was coming up and he had gone radio silent.

Sure he had told her that he had to leave town and wouldn’t be able to text her but couldn't he at least take a second to check in?

As soon as she could, Y/N sent him a message.

‘Haven't heard from you in a few days. Are you okay?’

And then, for the rest of the day, she kept an eye on her phone for a response.

The device stayed silent.

When Dean finally came around two days later, it was much to the relief of both Y/N and Sam.

They sat at his bedside and regaled him with the story of how the Lamia was not who they thought it was but that Sam caught on pretty quickly and used the current from an old stove hookup to burn the creature before she could take Dean’s life.

Dean, as stubborn as he was, refused to stay in bed. He was adamant that he needed to get up and that he wasn’t wasting away in his room while there were other monsters still roaming the world.

Sam and Y/N eventually gave up and left him to his own devices, going to their respective rooms to rest themselves. It was tiring trying to save a life then having that same someone argue that they hadn’t needed it.

Y/N was awakened by her phone buzzing with an incoming text. She opens the message thread and sees that Romeo has responded.

‘Sorry darlin’. I’ve been extremely busy. But I’m back in town and chomping at the bit for our date. Wanna move it up a few day?’

Y/N felt her face flush. She had been excited and eager and wishing that time would move faster as well.

‘A few days would mean tomorrow. You want to meet tomorrow?’

‘Yes. Tomorrow.’

Y/N woke up the next morning, nervous but excited. She was going to meet the man she had been messaging and getting to know through texts for the last three months.

She joined the guys in the kitchen for breakfast and then headed back to her room to determine what she was going to wear.

What do you wear when meeting someone new? She knew him, she thought, but she had yet to see him face to face or even hear his voice.

What if he was not at all what she’d been picturing all this time? What if they meet and one (or both) of them weren’t completely different from what the other thought?

She chose her nicest pair of jeans; nicest meaning they weren't covered in monster blood and guts and other bodily fluids of the creatures she has murdered.

Next, she chose a nice flowy camisole that wasn’t so low cut it showed much cleavage but low enough to show off her chest. Over that she wore a fitted leather jacket with the fancy schmancy silver buttons.

She slid the silver and turquoise necklace on with the matching silver ring, that way if Romeo went in for a hug instead of a handshake, she could still test if he is a werewolf or skinwalker and she had a vial of holy water in her purse to confirm he wasn’t a demon.

As she was finishing her makeup she heard Dean walking past her room, a whistle on his lips.

“Why is he in such a good mood?” she wondered out loud then went to look at her reflection once more.

By the time she got to the garage, the Impala was gone. Y/N was glad because she did not want to explain to Dean why she was borrowing one of the many cars there.

She chose an older model black Ford Mustang because it was one of the few inconspicuous cars they owned. Heads wouldn't turn at the sight of it rolling down the street, unlike the Bel-Aires and the Fairlanes would.

She didn't want to bring attention to herself for a set of wheels that should be in a museum somewhere.

As she drove toward town she hummed a tune that had been stuck in her head for days. She'd finally realized it was ‘Hooked on A Feeling’.

Y/N had no idea where she'd heard the song or even who sang it but it seemed appropriate for the situation. She was hooked on a feeling that she'd found her soulmate through a mistaken wrong number.

Once she got parked and walked toward the door of the restaurant she was to meet her Romeo, something caught her eye.

Down past the building was a sleek black car that she'd know anywhere. A 1967 Chevy Impala that if you looked closely had been rebuilt at least twice but was in pristine condition.

She turned her head to look through the window of the restaurant and her heart dropped. Dean was inside!

What was he doing here? Did Sam tell him about her rendezvous with Romeo and he was here to stop it? But then she realized that she hadn't told Sam about the meet-up.

Turning on her heel, she walked with purpose back to her car and slipped inside.

‘Something has come up and I can't make it. Sorry.’

Y/N raced back to the Bunker, parked the car and ran to her room. She flopped on the bed and let the tears flow.

How dare he be there? Finally, when life was going her way, she was going to meet the man of her dreams, Dean fucking Winchester had to go and ruin it!

Her phone buzzed a couple of times in her pocket but she didn't check it until she was all cried out.

‘Hope everything is okay. Is there anything I can do?’

‘Are you ghosting me?! Really?’

She didn’t answer. Y/N wasn’t sure how to answer. She was no better than the woman who gave Romeo the wrong number to begin with.

What was she supposed to do? Tell him that her “brothers” were actually just two men she lived with in an underground shelter that was warded to keep out supernatural beings that were out for their head? That her job consisted of continually being on some demonic radar?

Yea, he’d think she was nuts!

So instead, Y/N turned her phone off and laid in bed, wallowing in her own self-pity. She would never find a man to understand her lifestyle and she wasn’t going to give it up.

Fighting monsters and demons was her life! She was dedicated to making sure no one ever had to witness or live with the fact that their loved ones were murdered by things that shouldn’t even exist!

A few moments later, she heard the bunker door slam shut and could make out the boys’ voices but couldn't understand what they were saying. It got heated quickly though as she heard Dean yell, “You don’t fucking understand!”

Y/N got off her bed, wiped the tears from her face and left the bedroom, heading toward Sam and Dean.

“I just don’t understand it, man,” Dean says as she reaches the doorway to the library. Y/N stays just out of their sight; she can see them but the boys have yet to notice her presence.

“We get along so well. She’s funny but smart. She puts me in my place.”

“Maybe you should just man up and tell her your real name,” Sam suggests.

“No, no way. That opens up this whole world-” Dean says as he waves a hand around, motioning to the room and all the books on the supernatural they have. “She’s not like us. She wouldn’t understand. I just don’t know what happened?”

“I’m telling you Dean,” Sam says sternly but compassionately. “You may just be surprised.”

“No. I’m not telling Regina about this life.”

Y/N gasps and puts her hand over her mouth as it all comes clear. Romeo is Dean. Dean is Romeo. Holy shit! Wait, what? Like, what the actual fuck?! Dean is who she’s been chatting with via text for months now?

She thinks back to the first message and tries to remember if it came in as Dean since she has his contact information saved. But no, it was a number that came up, not a contact. She quietly runs back to her room and grabs her phone.

As soon as it turns on, she goes into her contacts and scrolls down to Romeo’s. She opens it and sees it is indeed a different number than she has saved for Dean….and his other phone….and his other, other phone.

So what is going on?

She walks back toward the library and this time she makes herself known.

“Oh hey Y/N.” Sam says with a smirk on his face.

“Hey Sweetheart,” Dean says, his tone melancholy before taking a drink of his beer.

“So, which came first? The chicken or the egg?”

Dean swallows the drink in his mouth and then slowly turns his head toward her. “What did you say?”

“Which came first? The chicken or the egg?”

“Um, how do you know that?”

Y/N walks closer to Dean and holds out her hand. “Hello Romeo. I’m Regina.”

Dean froze. The only thing that moved was his eyes, from her outstretched hand to Y/N’s face.

Time stood still as Y/N waited for Dean to catch up to what she had said. Suddenly his eyes widened and his lips opened and closed like a fish trying to breathe.

“What?!” he finally found his voice and spoke.

“I’m Regina and I’m assuming you’re Romeo from what I’ve heard.”

“You are the amazingly hot chick I’ve been texting all this time?”

Y/N nods her head and Sam laughs from his spot across the table from his brother. “It’s about time! I was getting tired of watching you guys pine for one another, and not realizing it.”

“Shut up Sam,” Y/N and Dean both state.

Dean pushes his chair back and stands up, pulling a dinosaur of a phone from his pocket. It’s a frigging flip phone for Chuck’s sake!

“What the hell is that?” Y/N asks as she laughs and watches Dean flip the phone open and punch in numbers on the number pad. “How old is that phone?”

“It was Dad’s,” Sam explains as they both watch Dean work on getting into the phone and open up the text thread. “I didn’t even know it was still usable but apparently my brother uses it to hook up.”

Y/N turns her attention back to Dean and watches as he looks at the screen, apparently re-reading all the messages.

“Well, fuck!” Dean says with a chuckle. He then turns to her and smiles. “Romeo at your service. And he is a dumbass. I didn’t recognize your number, but I do now.”

Sam stands and closes his laptop. “I’m going to go to my room and give you two some privacy.”

Neither Dean nor Y/N pays attention as the taller Winchester leaves the room, their eyes glued to one another’s, studying one another. No words were spoken for a few minutes.

“You’re Regina?”

“And you’re Romeo,” Y/N states with a nod. “I just have one question though. How the hell do you know who Regina George is? That's a chick flick if there ever was one!”

Dean shrugs and blushes. “Rachel McAdams is hot. What can I say?”

They both laugh but then Dean surges forward and wraps her up in his arms.

“But not as hot as my Regina. She can't hold a candle to you, baby.”

Y/N feels her heart squeeze around such a heartfelt compliment and smiles. “How idiotic are we?”

“Well sweetheart, this idiot has fallen for you.”

Y/N’s phone slips out of her hand and her arms wrap around Dean’s neck. “It’s a good thing I’ve fallen for you too then.”

They stand there, wrapped up in each other just taking it all in.

“Can I kiss you now?” Dean asked and Y/N nodded.

He slowly leans in, their eyes glued to one another's until at the very last second he glances down to her lips.

As soon as their lips touched, it was like everything became clear. The world had been dark and gray and now it was bursting with vivid color.

Dean licked against the seam of her lips, begging for entry and Y/N immediately granted him access.

When the need for air became necessary, they pulled apart but not before Dean placed his forehead on hers and smiled.

“Who knew love was right under my nose?”

“Well, here it is,” Y/N says as she tightens her hold on the older Winchester. “Who knew we belonged together? Now take me to bed!”

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @leigh70

#dean winchester #y/n #sam winchester #Anonymously Yours #angst #fluff #smut-ish #Supernatural

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artofchira · 2 months

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Chira can you share all your Hamlet thoughts/feelings/hot takes/headcanons because it's also my favourite and I love hearing what people have to say about it. It's one of the things I can't shut up about. Could talk for hours!!!!!

Here I will copy/paste straight out of discord the last time I went off about my opinions on Hamlet to a friend:

I have no idea how Hamlet makes sense to people if he wasn't young (16-17, 21 tops), because everything he's about is this kid who is incredibly overwhelmed with the knowledge that his father has been murdered but he also has literally fucking no one to grieve that with, because he can't trust anyone. And it's not as simple as accusing his uncle, no one would believe it, least of all his mother.

So of course he gets it in his head that the only real vindication and closure he can get is to somehow force people to see the truth for themselves and believe it as a way of finding some kind of freedom from his burden. And he's a little too smart for his own good because he manages to get by with being completely irony poisoned and making sure no one gets a clear read on him, but at the same time he gets so irony poisoned that people either credit him with being a 9D chess master or losing insincerity to himself.

like, I remember early on that love letter he sends Ophelia that everyone remembers -- Doubt that the stars are fire, etc etc

That one.

Out of context it sounds extremely romantic, but in context the scene is Ophelia's dad is reading out the entirety of Hamlet's letter to Ophelia to his uncle and like half the court, and they're all bagging on him for being so bad at poetry. And hell Hamlet drops the rhapsodizing halfway through the letter to go "yeah yeah I know I'm bad at it but don't think for a second I don't love you all right? you're the most important person to me"

and if I remember correctly he slips in a line where's like, no matter what happens don't ever think I don't

So later on when Ophelia's dead and Hamlet's told about it and all his friends are like "come on why are you pretending you care, you were never there and you bullied her" and Hamlet loses his shit in this big monologue about how he loved her with the strength of a thousand suns and whatnot

But by then it's supposed to be like, who are you trying to convince, them or yourself?

And I think that on its own is pretty dense interpretation, but I personally would go so far to say leaving it there still assumes that Hamlet was insincere to begin with, or lost his sincerity because people look back on that letter to Ophelia like

he was writing it to Ophelia

so her dad would read it

so then his uncle would hear it

and they'd all believe some other bait trap on how to fool them

like some master chess move

when, like, no one actually considers the more obvious option:

That he was perfectly sincere in that letter, that he not at all expected Ophelia to give it to her father, and that he actually was just that bad at poetry (not fake being bad, actually bad) and trying to tell her to trust him through what's gonna be a real rough time and to not believe what he says to her when he's acting all weird to people

Which makes Ophelia failing to trust him and kill herself even sadder because Hamlet's rage monologue in response to it would kind of then look more like... Count of Monte Cristo's moment of realizing he fucking went too far and 'what have I done' thing in chasing his ambitions

Like, it involved a casualty of someone who wasn't supposed to be in the crossfire, but furthermore it happens to be the girl he adores and he's the one that kind of gaslit her into it.

That's more of a kid that's way in over his head and realized he fucked up, and makes more emotional sense than some guy trying to act like a whacky mastermind to me

that's basically it. Everyone looks at that letter being like "aha he was fake being bad at poetry to make everyone just think he's a morose teen with a crush" kind of thing but like…. being a teen with a crush is what he would be

I don't understand people treating hamlet like he doesn't have emotional consequences for himself instead of just being a depressive vengeance obsessive teenager spiralling out of control

that he's trying for something and fucking failing at it despite how smart he is at it

because he's a kid who feels alone and can't trust anyone with why he feels alone, and this is the best way he knows to get people to actually understand what he's dealing with

since everyone's like "what's wrong hamlet!!!" acting really worried and fussy over him being depressed and he won't fucking say

it just makes like… more reasonable sense as a human person to view it that way honestly, at least to me personally

#ask box answers #hamlet #william shakespeare

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merakiui · 1 year

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Ooooh now I'm imagining all sorts of Danganronpa style drama for Azul's trial. So many false leads and tricks!

Someone strong (like Leona) is found dead and weighted underwater, so everyone immediately suspects the 3 merfolk. Some unintentionally specist comments get thrown around. But that's too obvious, right? There's evidence that excludes them, and the arguments go elsewhere. Who is capable of overpowering the victim, etc.? He has injuries that indicate a struggle.

Some eventual evidence indicates the cause of death was drowning. Suspicion returns to the mers. Did they work together to keep him underwater while he fought? He's so strong, it's still hard to believe. Would two of them actually be willing to die while the other wins? There are scary rumors about the Leeches. Was Azul even involved? The Leech twins start playing up their sketchiness (they're angry by this point). But there can only be one killer.

To Azul's horror, someone ignorantly mentions there were circular imprints on the victim's arm (with a picture). He was extremely cautious! There is NO WAY he left sucker marks; he even checked afterward. If they were familiar with octomers, they'd know the marks aren't even the right shape!! He's flipping out now and messes up his words. Nervous chatter has always been a trait of his. The jury ends up deciding the three of them worked together, but Azul is the killer since he had to be the one holding the victim, causing his drowning.

Azul IS the killer, but he's so upset they got all the details wrong. He did everything himself. He meticulously planned everything, accounting for the victim's UM, and krakened him. But he did not leave any of the evidence mentioned and those sucker imprints are fake 😨😡💀!! Now he's going to die looking like a fool where he wasn't.

Before Azul's punishment, Jade reveals that he figured out it was Azul before the trial. He knows him too well. He planted the main evidence because, while he cares for Azul, he has no intention of letting himself and Floyd die for him.

I like the idea that the twins remain super sketchy and intentionally misleading for all the other trials, without actually ever being the killers. They're very angry, and its their way of grieving Azul.

YES YES YES!!!! This is the vision in its entirety!!!! orz the twins continuing to be suspicious menaces even after his execution is perfect.

Azul spends the majority of the game being annoyingly kind and helpful, if only to spread goodwill and reduce the risk of being targeted. He may cut a strikingly scary figure when he's with the twins, but the truth is that he's an animal of prey at heart and he'll do whatever it takes to survive. So as nice as he seems, it's all an act to keep himself safe and on everyone's good sides. He keeps his ears to the ground, always wanting to know as much as possible, and he is genuinely helpful in the trials, if not a little pompous.

But he's so anxious. The killing game is wearing on and he desperately wants to get out of here. How is he going to keep up with the lounge if he's stuck here? This is horrible! He's losing so much business with every passing second! On the surface, Azul keeps himself composed, but beneath perfect smiles and his obnoxious flair for theatrics he's cracking.

I imagine the trial is filled with twists and turns and it's so very convoluted. It couldn't possibly be one of the merfolk, right? Anyone with enough strength could have drowned the victim. It's very possible. Azul keeps his composure up until the moment when everyone starts to suspect and turn against him. His own logic is falling apart and though he's used to quick-paced arguments and discussions in business this is different. They can't be serious. Do they all really think he's the one at fault here? Honestly, he wouldn't revert to his true form to commit murder. Come on! That's foolish.

With all eyes on him, Azul starts to break. It's suffocating to be under such intense scrutiny. Everyone's accusing him of such a monstrous thing. They're all bullies! >:( it's not fair! He's only ever been good and helpful and obedient! Sure, he may have seemed suspicious when he was with the twins, but that's just how they are as a group! It's all just an act to look intimidating, to look strong, to look untouchable. He's not a killer. He's a businessman.

He snaps when the twins don't take his side. So they're just going to bully him, too? Is that it? And from there, everyone sees the real Azul. Foul-mouthed and impolite, he's pointing and yelling, insisting that it can't be him; it could never! Why would he throw his future away just to commit a crime? Why would he make such a risk?! He's a businessman! His eyes are blown wide with delirium. He's definitely breaking into a laughing fit during the trial like how he did during his overblot. >_< he's crazed... it's haunting to see. The twins would feel bad, but he chose this. You make your mistake and you pay for it. Isn't that what Azul always says when debtors refuse to pay what they owe?

He's hysterical until he isn't. Until he can no longer be. After the vote comes in and he's declared the blackened, he gets this far-off look to him. Maybe he's reflecting. Maybe he's not. Maybe he isn't even thinking at all. No one can tell.

It's strange to see the twins without Azul. Their terrifying trio is forever down a member.

#twisted chit chat #azul breakdowns are my bread and butter <3 #the emotional range he has... it's so good #going from composed and calm to sobbing and screaming... aaaaaa it's wonderful #he can get so unhinged when pushed to the edge and i love it

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vallanoux · 8 months

Text

𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚. - 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟏, 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝟐

ps: here's chapter two of pulchra tragoedia <3 and no, i have no clear updating schedule :'>

A burst of magic surrounds both Lucifer and (name), enveloping them up and teleporting elsewhere. Back to Lucifer’s castle. The young woman’s eyes, now demon––or whatever she was––trailed around the vicinity, hungrily taking in every detail of the castle and jotting them down in her memory.

The castle was dark, and had endless dimly lit hallways. It wasn’t musty by any means, and rather, surprisingly clean, but the cleanliness of the hallways did nothing for the somewhat gloomy aura that weighed in the air. It gnawed on the mind’s of visitors. Present, but never truly there. An itch in the back of one’s mind was the way most would name it.

Lining down the hallways were portraits of Lucifer and his family, all having wide smiles on their faces. Smiling faces. Of Lucifer, of Lilith and of a young Charlie. They were portals of nostalgia, opening a memory long since forgotten––by time, or by choice, one will never know.

It was obvious to (name) that Lucifer chose to ignore these portraits. He keeps his eyes straight on without stealing a glance at any of them, except, say for a couple of portraits of him and Charlie. He couldn’t bring himself to even look at a portrait of Lilith. (name) pursed her lips slightly, knowing that his attention wasn't locked on her. He wouldn’t notice the abundance of empathy swelled in her chest as she looked at him. A man, more broken than he’d ever been and desperately trying to hide it. To cope and coexist against the losing battle of sadness.

To a mere bystander, Lucifer would have looked mildly troubled, but to the discerning eye, he was no better than a well-dressed husk of himself. It almost made (name) feel bad that she was putting up a front to fool him into helping her. Almost.

(name) decided to break the silence, chasing away the negativity that was encroaching on the air, “sorry, but what’s your name? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“Oh, that! Yes, that!” Lucifer loudly exclaims with a slight nervous trickle. “Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.”

“So.. the fallen one?” (name) questioned, hoping for more from him. It was all information that she herself already knew, but there was no harm in getting Lucifer to open up more. To feel safer and more comfortable.

“The one and only head of Hell.” He continues, he pauses and looks (name) in the eye, purposefully activating his powers to give a little scare with his glowing red eyes. “Are you scared yet?”

(name) held his gaze with slight hesitation, then answered him with an honest question. “Should I be? I’m not significant enough to warrant that sort of treatment from you.”

“You don’t seem to realize the scent of god on you. You have divinity.” He pauses and looks at (name). “Wait, you don’t know?”

I have the scent of god on me? Does that have to do with the reason why I’m here? Just as that crazy ass stalker jumped on me and stabbed me, I immediately blacked out. Right before I wished for… Wait, what did I wish for? I can’t remember- No, no, I shouldn’t be thinking about that right now. I can do that later.

“N- No?” She was visibly confused. “I have the scent of god on me? What does that mean? I don’t feel any different from when I… died.”

“Then, how did you die?” Lucifer questions. His face then quickly forms into one of panic. “Oh, that was very insensitive of me! My bad. I really didn’t mean to. I just wanted to know if there was a correlation between you know, the divinity and your a um.. passing–”

“-No, it’s fine.” (name) reassures him. “I was stabbed to death.”

“Stabbed?” His eyes widened, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Why..?”

“I was a Broadway talent. I sang musicals and I guess.. Some people just got really crazy over me.” (name) was careful not to put any emphasis on acting or faking her emotions for a stage. A Broadway talent, a singer, a dancer, radio or podcast personalities––they were nothing more than professionally paid liars. Liars that sold stories. The entertainment industry was nothing but falsified humanity.

“Jeez, that’s a terrible way to go. And how old were you?” Lucifer couldn’t help but ask again, fully losing the battle to his curiosity.

“I was 28 when that happened.” (name) smoothly answered.

Lucifer put his hand behind his neck and focussed his gaze downward. It takes him a while before he musters up his next question, “did you leave anyone behind?”

“No, I didn’t. I don’t have a family or any close friends. That’s the… only thing I’m glad about since I, at least, didn't make anyone too sad.”

“I thought humans already had families by then. Don’t you all get married at 13 or something..?” He wasn’t sure how to respond to my previous statement, so he attempts to make a change of topic.

“Huh? No! Well, not as commonly as back then.” (name) holds her hands up and shakes her head. “That happened way back when.. Like a couple of centuries ago.”

“Really? I haven’t been keeping up with much. Not with hell, not with humans or..” He mumbles the last bit to himself, “anything, really... Times have changed, haven't they?”

“It’s not like you have to.” She shrugs.

Lucifer nods his head, and finally picks up the pace. He walks further down the hallway and points to a tall, elegant wooden door to his left with his cute apple staff. “This will be your room. Mine is right down the hallway if you need anything… wait.”

His eyes widen and he places his hands on the sides of his hat, pulling it down to hide the shame crawling up on his cheeks, “I didn’t even ask for your name! Oh no..! I’m so sorry, I’m not accustomed to uh-”

“-It’s alright, I understand. My name’s (name) (surname). Just call me (name). What should I call you? Your majesty?” The young woman notices herself smiling at his panicked display, finding it extremely cute and endearing.

Lucifer lets go of his hat and he looks at me with bright, big owl-like eyes. He had a reassuring grin crawl up his reddened cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “No, Lucifer’s fine!”

“Alright then, Lucifer it is.”

(name) keeps her smile and pushes the door to her guest bedroom open. It was a nice cozy room, shaped like a square. The wall right opposite of where (name) stood was of a large window, overlooking the buzzing lights of Pentagram City. And, on the left side of the room was a bed. It was a cozy king-sized bed draped in white sheets layered with a (f/c) comforter and a thick (f/c) blanket. A nice bolster was placed in the center of the bed, with two pillows sandwiching its sides. It looked like a very cozy bed covered, especially with its silken drapes.

(name) finally takes a step into the room, amazed at such classy luxury. She shifts her attention onto the wall beside the bed, empty and undecorated. It was a space (name) could decorate however she wished, if she ever found herself coming into possession of anything.

“Oh my goodness… thank you Lucifer!” (name) turns around and beams brightly at the King of Hell, who returns a soft expression as he holds his staff close to his chest. Lucifer internally gives himself a pat on the back for doing at least one thing right.

“It’s no problem, really,” he says with such a genuine tone it makes the broadway talent’s heart turn all mushy gushy.

“And I can decorate this place, right?”

“Of course.” He nods. He looks back down the hallway where we had come from. “Since now you know where your room is, would you like a tour of the palace?”

“Oh, sure.” (name) steps out of her room, closes the door and she reigns in her own excitement. As a fan of the series, she’d always wondered what the castle Lucifer and Charlie lived in looked like.

The castle was absurdly massive. Without Lucifer’s teleportation magic, (name) was sure the tour would’ve taken an entire day, or longer. From the gardens, the terrarium, the quaint little aquarium room, observatory, the library and the drawing rooms, it was all so wonderful and grand. Though, one thing she noticed throughout the tour was an absence of servants. Not one imp was spotted in sight.

“Lucifer, since you’re the King of Hell, wouldn’t you have.. Servants? I don’t mind you giving me a personal tour, and rather, really appreciate it.. But couldn’t you have anyone else to bring me around?”

Lucifer looks at me with an unnamable expression. It looked slightly troubled, “My… ah- uh, ex wife..? She took them all… wherever she went.”

(name) was quick to figure that she shouldn’t dig in too deep into this and switches the topic, “so you manage this place all by yourself? That’s amazing!”

“I try.” He graces me with a graceful expression as he fiddles with the apple on his staff. “Ah, we’re here. This is my room if you need anything. See? It’s not too far from yours if you need anything. Just let me know, alright?”

“Then, if that’s all for the night, should I go back to my own room?” The (h/c)-haired woman questions.

“Feel free! You can stay here for as long as you want (name)...” Lucifer’s words trailed off. His once excitable expression turns downcast. “It gets a little lonely here.”

Internally, (name) had vicious delight crawling into her conscience. Lucifer truly was such an easy person to make use of. So easy to fool and manipulate. Easy to- She stops herself from thinking more like that. And rather, stills her mind as a prickled thorn of regret and guilt pierces her heart. Don’t find it funny. Don’t hurt him too much. You’re doing this to survive. Not for fun.

She pauses and thinks. Then, she finds the perfect words to say. Simple and concise, but with much meaning: “I’ll stay.”

“Thanks.” Lucifer’s expression softened up so much more (name) really felt the need to pounce on him and squish his cheeks.

He reaches for his doorknob, and the moment he opens it, a rush of rubber duckies fall out of his room and onto him, burying him under a pile of yellow. At the King of Hell’s misfortune, (name) burst out in laughter. Lucifer lets out a groan of annoyance.

She quickly wipes her tear away and offers a hand, “need help?”

Lucifer grabs her hand and (name) hoists him up, “Thanks.”

His cheeks were completely flushed in a burning, crimson red. He was utterly embarrassed, “I- I swear I’m not a hoarder. These ducks are um-”

“-You don’t have to be so nervous around me, really, I don’t judge. If you like ducks, then you like ‘em. There isn’t much to it.” She assures him by patting his shoulder. “But make sure they just don’t end up as um.. A hazard.”

“Yeah, got it.” He snaps his fingers and the ducks disappear. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Since it’s late.”

“Yeah, tomorrow.” (name) waved him goodbye and walked back to her bedroom.

When (name) walks into her room, she closes the door, locks it and leans her back against it. She slumps onto the floor and buries her head in her hands once more. She could feel an oncoming headache seize hold on her temples, absurdly tired from the day. While it wasn’t a bad day by any dictionary definition, it was filled with all sorts of confusion and information her brain had to understand and cram in. By habit, she runs her hands through her hair and pulls at it, the sensation arising from her actions bringing a wave of calmness to her due to its familiarity. It was one of her many coping mechanisms.

Then, (name) jolts, feeling some form of fluffy protrusion on her head and she gasps. She rushed to the closest mirror she could find, which was in the bathroom. Her eyes widened. Out of shock, or horror, (name) didn’t know nor did she care.

All she could stare at were the big bat ears that were perked up in shock on her head. At first, the woman lets out a nervous, disbelieving chuckle. Her hands reach to her ears, tugging at them to see if she was simply hallucinating from exhaustion.

She wasn’t.

(name) breathes in and out, her heart feeling as if it were going to explode from its own beating. She finds herself grinning wildly, trying to reassure herself that everything was fine––after all, wasn’t she? Wasn’t it normal to turn into a non-human demon in Hazbin Hotel after dying? Isn’t this normal? Calm down! This is NOTHING-

Her efforts at calming herself down proved to be fruitless. So, (name) screams.

And Lucifer, after hearing her (name)’s scream, bless his heart, came rushing right in.

6.5 pages

2,224 words

status: edited

Notes:

woah, i did not expect to publish this chapter so soon! but i guess i'm really motivated rn :> a lot of the earlier chapters will really be lucy-centric, so all you alastor lovers will have to wait

there will be helluva boss x hazbin hotel crossovers here <3

#hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #alastor x reader x lucifer #alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar

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