#Fork in the kitchen behavior!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

Hello love, I just found your blog and I must say that I adore your writing!! I’ve been looking for some new marauder content and couldn’t be happier with what I have come across here! 🫶🏼🩷

Can I request a counterpart to Dizzy? Where the reader comes home super tipsy and roommate James has to deal with their affection and sloppy behavior :)) I think that might be a fun change of perspective for those two.

If not, no worries! Thank you for your amazing work 🥹 take care 🫶🏼

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! Apologies for the wait, this got a bit long haha. Hope you like it <3

cw: drunkenness

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

James hears the front door open and close, a painful sounding series of thumps, and not much after that.

He sets down his late-night snack of melon he’s been sneakily eating from the bowl you’d cut it up in earlier, leaving his fork sticking out of a piece. “Hello?”

Your reply is quiet, barely echoing down the hallway to reach him. “James?”

He gets up and goes toward the door. You’re slumped against it, cast half in shadow from the lamplight that filters through the window to fall upon one side of your face, brows bunched as you toy clumsily with your shoelace. You look up at his approach, and your expression clears.

“James!”

James smiles; he can’t help it.

“Hi,” he says, with nearly as much enthusiasm. “Did you have fun tonight, sweetheart?”

You nod happily. “I brought you something.”

He feels his eyebrows raise. “Something for me?”

“Mhm.” You twist onto your side, mouth screwing up concentratedly as you lift your bum to fish around in your back pocket. “Here!” You pull out a squished mars bar, looking rather pleased with yourself. “Those are your favorite, right?”

“They are,” he agrees, taking it from you, “thanks. Where’d you get this?”

“A man was giving them out on the street.”

James blinks. “Just giving them away?”

“I know, very suspicious.” You nod sagely. “But I already had mine, and it wasn’t laced with cocaine or anything, so I figure it’s fine.”

Right, then. James will just have to check on you in the morning to make sure you’re still breathing.

“Well, thank you for the gift,” he says, and is rewarded with your gargantuan grin.

“I’m glad you like it,” you reply, eyes full of an earnestness so sweet it makes James’ chest hurt. “I never get to do anything for you, and you’re so nice to me.”

“You do tons of stuff for me,” he scoffs, but you look prepared to argue, and he doesn’t want that. He gives your shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Hey, wanna get some water?”

You go quiet, considering this. “Can I have it on the floor?”

James laughs. “You want to drink your water sitting on the floor?”

You smile like you don’t quite understand what’s so funny but are happy to go along with it anyway. “The floor is good,” you say, as though it’s a simple fact of life.

“Alright.” James weaves his arm under yours, hoisting you up. “Sure, sweetheart, you can have it on the floor.”

He all but carries you into the kitchen, your feet barely touching the floor as they stumble inelegantly over each other and your one undone shoelace. You make a small sound as he eases you down on the floor next to the fridge, looking decidedly worse than you had over by the door.

“Do you feel okay?” he asks, keeping a wary eye on you as he fills a cup from the tap.

You hum noncommittally, waving him off. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Sorry, you can’t stop me,” he replies teasingly, crouching in front of you to pass you the water. He can’t stop himself. “Do you think you’re going to be sick?”

You make a face, mouth twisting in disgust. “God, I hope not.”

A nervous laugh escapes him. “Okay well, uh—here.” James grabs a nearly empty bread bag from the counter, taking the last two slices out and setting them on top of the toaster. He passes it to you. “Just in case you do.”

You give him a soft look, as if he hasn’t just handed you a vomit bag. “Thanks, Jamie.”

His heart sputters. You never call him that, and certainly never while looking at him the way you are now. He has the sudden urge to squish your face between his hands.

“Course,” he says quickly, looking down and getting to work on the shoelaces that were giving you trouble earlier. You’d double-knotted them and evidently forgotten. The action of prying the knot apart feels good, giving his body something productive to do.

For a while, you only drink your water quietly. James disentangles the laces and slips your shoes off, setting them next to each other on the floor. You put your feet in his lap, and he lets you. When you gasp, he looks up, alarmed.

“What?”

“James.” Your eyes are wide and glossy. “James, I just remembered the most wonderful thing.”

His heart calms slightly. “What’s that, love?”

“I cut up cantaloupe earlier. We should eat it!”

James grins, taking your ankles to move them out of his lap. “Great idea. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He stands, ignoring your confused puppy sound at his leaving.

Your eyes light up when he returns a moment later, bowl of melon in hand.

“Oh my god, you’re the best,” you gush, reaching for the fork he passes you from the drawer. “Where were you hiding this?”

“In my room,” he admits, sitting beside you. “I know you don’t like it when I eat right out of the bowl, sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t mind so much anymore,” you wave him off, forking a chunk of melon and taking a bite out of it. “That was a new-roommate thing. I didn’t want your spit in my food, you could’ve had herpes.”

A laugh startles out of him. “Did you think I had herpes?”

“I didn’t know!” you defend yourself, and it’s ridiculous how endearing he finds it that you’re comfortable enough to talk with your mouth full around him. “You’re a very pretty man, James Potter. For all I knew, you had a steady rotation coming in and out of your room whenever I wasn’t home.”

James guffaws, bumping your shoulder with his reprimandingly. “Wow, thanks for that. At least you think I’m pretty.”

“Just the truth,” you say into your cup, voice somewhat quieter than before.

He looks over, and you’ve gone a bit bashful, shoulders pulling up towards your ears as you down the last of your water. James thinks that he’s lucky you aren’t like this often. It’d be very hard to keep things platonic between you if you were this sweet and open with him as a habit.

“I wasn’t sure about you when you first moved in either,” he says to lighten things. “The first time I opened the cottage cheese and saw peaches inside, I almost moved out.”

You turn to him with your mouth agape, hand coming up to grip his bicep in offense. (He presumes he’s supposed to be intimidated, but all he can think about is how you never touch him like this, usually. It’s nice.) “You said it was good when I made you try it!” you accuse. “You liked it!”

“It was okay,” he allows laughingly, letting himself cover your hand with his under the pretense of loosening your grip. “It was just off-putting at first. That was a lot of weird right out the gate, sweetheart. Sirius wanted me to call the police.”

His plan backfires, and you drop your hand. Your chin, too, giving James a deadpan look through your lashes. “It’s not that weird. Tons of people do it.”

“Sure, sure,” James says, patting your shoulder placatingly when you seem like you could argue more. “Feeling like you might be ready for bed?” You seem to have eaten your fill of melon. Your fork lies discarded in the bowl, swimming in juice.

You deliberate for a moment before humming in affirmation. He stands first, taking both of your hands to help you up and marveling at the fact that you let him. When he turns to walk towards your room and you link your arm through his, he begins to worry he’s dreaming this whole thing.

“James,” you whisper up towards his ear. “Jamie-Jame. I have a secret to tell you.”

Definitely dreaming, then. A secret? He wonders what you could have thought of to tell him at this hour, in the state you’re in. Surely a good friend wouldn’t let you spill your guts when you’re this out of sorts. It could be something serious. Anything you’re not willing to share sober, he shouldn’t want to hear.

“What is it?” he asks, hating himself.

“I’m not going to take off my makeup before bed.”

A giggle bubbles out of him, so ridiculous he’s glad you’re not in your right mind to hear it. “Wow. Dire measures, huh?”

You nod somberly. “I’m gonna be so upset with myself tomorrow. I’m gonna wake up with crusty-eye and a million new zits, but I just want to go to sleep so bad, you know?”

“Mm, I think I see where you’re coming from.” James tries to sound like he’s giving it due consideration while he sets you down on your bed. You scoot back to the side, making room for him to sit beside you. He does. (Who is he to refuse an invitation like that?) “Yeah, you’ve just gotta prioritize comfort sometimes. You’ll make it up to yourself, I’m sure.”

You level him with what seems to be your best approximation of a stern look. It makes you look extremely cuddly. “You can’t hold it against me when you see my skin tomorrow, James. It’s going to be atrocious.”

He has to bite his lip to match your seriousness. “I guarantee I will not mind. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never not looked lovely.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t get it.” You flop back onto your pillow, disconsolate. “You’ve probably never had a zit in your life.”

“Actually, I went through a fairly bad stint in year eight—”

“That’s not fair,” you groan.

He smiles at you patiently. “What’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“You’re not fair.” You gesture vaguely in his direction as if to make your point. “You haven’t gotten zits since eighth year, first of all. Then on top of that, you smell nice. And you have really long eyelashes, which no boy should ever have. There’s no way you appreciate them as much as they deserve. And you call me sweetheart—what’s up with that?” James blinks, but you’re not done. “And you’re way too nice to me! It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Right,” James says, considering. “So all I have to do is start getting zits, stop showering, and…trim my eyelashes, and then you’ll be satisfied? Justice will be restored?”

Your lips curve, and you nod magnanimously. “Yes, please. Straightaway.”

“Cruel.” He sets a hand on your knee, giving your leg a teasing little shake. “Should I stop calling you sweetheart as well, then?”

You go shy again, looking just to the side of his face as a faint blush colors your cheeks. “No, that’s okay.”

James has to bite the inside of his cheek to tamp down the full force of his smile. “Okay. Alright if I continue being nice to you as well? I’d feel like a bit of a prick if I stopped.”

You give it a few moment’s consideration. “Fine,” you say, as if this is a large allowance and he really is on thin ice. James lets loose his smile. You copy him, your own grin lopsided and goofy. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” The word tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it, warm fondness oozing from every syllable. “Of course, come here.”

Despite his own words, he goes to you, crushing you to his chest with perhaps a touch too much eagerness. You don’t seem to notice, drooping against him with your arms banded around his middle. He thinks he hears you breathe in.

“Still feeling okay?” he asks gently, rubbing your back. You hum. “Ready to go to sleep?”

“Not if you’re going to leave.” Your voice is muffled against the fabric of his pajama shirt. The skin beneath grows warm from your breath. “I like you so much, Jamie. You’re so nice to me, you know?”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.” He smiles to himself, palm sweeping over the bare skin of your upper back and the material of your dress. He wonders if you’ll regret having slept in it in the morning. He can’t stand the thought of wearing outside clothes in bed. Oddly, he doesn’t know if you’re the same. “I can stay for a bit, if you want.”

“I like you, like, so much it’s a problem,” you go on as if he hasn’t spoken. You sound mildly upset. “You have no idea.”

Something tense and tentatively happy twists in James’ gut. It takes more effort than it should to keep breathing, keep rubbing your back. “I can stay, but you have to go to sleep, okay?”

You ease out of his embrace to look up at him. Your eyes are somewhat focussed, but watery. “James, I like you so much.”

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” he says softly, heart a hard-to-ignore, thundering thing in his chest. “Let’s just sleep for now, okay?”

“Okay.” You look reluctant but nod, laying back against your pillow. “Thanks.”

James doesn’t know what you’re thanking him for. He’s not sure he deserves it. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” you grumble, but reach up for his hand. He gives it to you, and you haul it to your chest with surprising strength, sending James slumping forward until he’s nearly lying down beside you. “Sorry,” you say drowsily. Then, after some thought, “Actually, no I’m not.”

James laughs. He’s happy to know you, he thinks. You’re kind and funny and thoughtful, and apparently very talkative when you’re drunk. He likes you too. Loves you, maybe. He’ll think about it tomorrow.

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merakiui · 8 months

Text

monops's reflection.

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader x floyd leech cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, unrequited love, obsession, drugging, kidnapping/captivity, restraints, dark/possessive/violent thoughts, biting, blood, characters written as 18+ note - happy birthday, tweels!!! :D may you continue to be crazy.

Mostro Lounge is tranquil tonight, save for the occasional clinking of glass against glass and the soft melodies tumbling from your lips. You busy yourself with song while you wipe the surface of a table, bending forwards to reach the very back with the dampened rag. Jade finds himself eyeing your figure as you flit about, observing the way you wring the cloth free of excess water, your fingers curling into the sodden fabric as if attempting to strangle it. And then it’s promptly dunked into the bucket and wrung out again in repetition. He stands behind the counter and continues to dry the same glass he started on two minutes ago, its shiny surface reflecting his distracted countenance.

There’s something curious about you.

He can’t quite put his finger on what that something is. The more he analyzes you, the further he strays from a proper interpretation of your character. For a human who can’t use magic, you’re surprisingly selfless. You cheer your friends on in their academic endeavors, offering them your help whenever it feels like they might need it, and you carry your own weight at the lounge, boldly standing up to patrons who get too big for their britches. Jade wanted to pity you in the beginning, when customers had been rough and rude with you, but you’d dealt with every difficulty with a bright grin and a few choice words.

You’re strong; you never back down.

Jade sets the glass in its rightful place and reaches for another, all while keeping his mismatched stare on you. He wonders how much pressure it would take for you to finally snap. Would you still be able to smile then? Could you even manage to stay afloat in pessimistic waters with that blithe façade of yours? If he were to cut into you with knife and fork—with dreadfully sharp words and even sharper actions—would you allow yourself to bleed out? Or would you accept your fate and smile up at him from your porcelain plate, promising him you’ll patch yourself up because it isn’t a big deal?

When you act so cheerful, so blissfully ignorant to the beast who lurks behind, it sets a potent yearning aflame. A yearning to break you well beyond repair. A yearning to take that smile, chew it up, and spit it out until it’s the most devastated frown he’s ever seen.

“Good work today, Jade!” With a breathless huff—he wants to bottle that breath and each one that will follow—you set the bucket down and roll your shoulders. Exhaustion shadows your face, adding deceptive age to your youthful appearance. “Do you need any help?”

“I’m quite all right. Thank you, though.” He returns your smile with one of his own, the usual placid, tight-lipped thing that both eases and unsettles depending on the situation. His default expression, forever the same unless circumstances call for the other faces he’s stowed in his vast repertoire. “You’re more than welcome to head back if you’ve finished for the evening. I can handle the rest.”

“You sure?” The bucket is in your hands again, and you carry it over to the sink to empty the murky water into the basin. He notes the way your arms shake ever so slightly as you struggle to balance the heavy thing against the counter. “I don’t mind waiting here until you’re done.”

“Very well. In that case, I won’t take too long.”

He finishes drying the remaining lineup, arranging each on its respective shelf before wiping the counter for extra measure. He doesn’t have to do it, but he does. It never hurts to be clinically clean.

Floyd should be done with the stock count by now, he thinks, gazing at the door leading to the kitchen. I should check it just in case.

After folding his rag into a neat square and tucking it away, he strides over to the door, opens it a crack, and pokes his head inside. The kitchen space is devoid of life. With furrowed brows, Jade opens the door wider just as Floyd jumps out from his spot behind the racks. He’s holding the clipboard in one hand and flailing with the other. His attempt at a fright does nothing to startle Jade, but it does cause you to flinch back. You do that a lot. Jade’s noticed that you scare easily, often falling victim to Floyd’s pranks during your shifts. It’s all harmless fun, but sometimes Jade catches himself wishing for Floyd to push you just a little harder. A little rougher. Maybe one day he will and Jade will finally witness tears lining your lashes.

“F-Floyd!” you snap, humiliated.

“Gotcha, Shrimpy. You always fall for it, y’know? Like a silly, stupid Shrimpy.” He passes the clipboard to Jade on his way out and adds, “Pretty sure everything’s correct.”

“Is it?” Jade peers at his brother’s handwriting. “If you don’t mind, I’ll review it once more.”

“Be my guest. Wasn’t really havin’ a ball fillin’ it out anyway.” He shrugs and then beelines for you, lifting you into the air with ease. He spins you despite your protests. Nasally laughter soon overtakes silence. Floyd has always been fond of your reactions; he eats them up as if it’s a special treat. “I wonder if you’ll get sick. You get motion sickness, Shrimpy? Tell me! Tell me!”

A covert smile stretches onto Jade’s mouth as he disappears into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind him. While he goes over the numbers and corrects the errors Floyd’s made, he listens to you pleading with his brother to release you. Most of the numbers align with the remaining supplies and ingredients, and he adds his own notes in the margins so that Azul will know which are especially low and in need of replenishment. Checking his brother’s work isn’t a favorite pastime of Jade’s, but when it comes to the lounge and its success he’d rather look over a few numbers than watch sales plummet and listen to Azul’s endless slew of woeful complaints.

Once he’s made the necessary changes, he slips the sheet from the clipboard and heads back out. You’re in the process of chasing after Floyd, who’s holding your timecard above his head and dangling it like it’s a piece of bait. Part of Jade wants to enjoy the spectacle, but the other part is ready for the sweetness of sleep. For once he sides with the latter and clears his throat to get Floyd’s attention.

“Ah, you’re already done?” Having lost interest in the game, he drops your card at once. It flutters to the floor, and he watches with wide, gleeful eyes as you swoop down to catch it. “That all we gotta do?”

“I believe so. Azul’s staying late, so he will lock up.”

Jade sets the inventory sheet on the nearest table for Azul to find before retrieving and filling out his timecard. Floyd hasn’t even marked his hours yet, and Jade exhales an empty sigh and takes the initiative to write it in for him. It’s always been like this. Jade looks out for Floyd, not only because they’re family and have always done so, but because there are some instances where he’s much too careless.

It has been noted that the two of them are a package deal. A duo. A pair. Inseparable twins who balance each other with varying levels of insanity. Their bond is unbreakable, having been built from blood and the will to survive ever since they were vulnerable elvers. Floyd is a reflection of Jade, and Jade is a reflection of Floyd; that’s how they have lived. Like day and night, sugar and salt, and light and dark, they operate like clockwork, expertly in time with one another.

The center of their relationship has always remained the same, and Jade suspects it will never change, even after they’ve acclimated to human society. They are predators with finely honed instincts, masquerading above the water as humans. With razored rows of teeth and an insatiable hunger for unpredictability, the two of them function in a domesticated world. In order to survive in such a foreign environment, Jade has learned that they need each other, which is why it’s so salient that they get along most days.

And much like night and day, like a person with a shadow, one cannot exist without the other.

“See ya tomorrow, Shrimpy!” Floyd flashes you a jovial grin as you take your leave, but there’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I’ll be waiting…”

“Um, yeah… H-Have a good night.”

With your timecard now in Jade’s capable hands, he’s free to observe your handwriting. There’s nothing special about the way you write, but it still manages to mesmerize him. Every loop of each letter, messily intertwining like frayed strings of fate, adds charm to the script. It’s obvious you tried and failed to sign your name in cursive, but the fact that you even bothered to do so is cute.

It’s truly not that important, he reminds himself as he places the cards back where they belong.

“Shall we head back now?”

Floyd nods, stifling a yawn. As they walk through peaceful halls, he adds in a conversational tone, “Awfully boring when Shrimpy’s not around.”

Jade weighs that declaration and finds himself nodding in agreement. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

i. on a moonlit night, under an eave of twinkling stars, monops waltzes gracefully with the ghost of his other half. the shards of a shattered mirror reflect two sides of the same coin, of human and monster. when the clouds part and an ethereal beam encases the solitary monops, the illusion melts away into a fleeting dream.

Floyd is everything Jade is not: energetic, extroverted, and brash. Such adjectives can’t possibly describe Jade’s outward demeanor—the one he carefully orchestrates for public consumption. He’s polite and kind, soft-spoken and always wearing a smile despite the situation. He cloaks himself in a many-layered mask—a perfect predator with multiple disguises at his disposal. If he must shed a dozen skins to uphold his gentlemanly disposition, then he will gladly peel them away one at a time until he’s found one that fits flawlessly over bone. Jade could never hope to become what Floyd is, but what Floyd is not Jade is. And he is composed of qualities that reflect Floyd’s own behaviors.

He’s not ashamed to admit what he lacks. This is just a facet of life. You can never truly have everything you want. If the world was fair, everyone would achieve their goals without adversity. Any aspiration, no matter how small and insignificant, requires an adequate fight to be worthy of achievement. Survival is not much of a dream, but it’s the only thing Jade’s ever known as he floats through the world alongside his brother. His dreams are Floyd’s, or so that’s what he’s always told those who enquire. He shares these things with him because he does not have any to call his own.

Not yet, at least.

And sharing—it’s a word he knows well. Everything that Jade owns, Floyd owns as well. They share the same face, the same room, the same clothes. They might even come to share the same lover one day, should they both find their hearts pierced by Cupid’s miserable arrows. Jade has never been against the concept of sharing. It’s an acceptable way of life for him. He grew up practicing the concept, and it has taught him how to coexist with others. Sharing is an extension of the bonds he’s formed.

Still, he’s avaricious in some aspects. Hopelessly so.

There’s no denying the difficulty that arises when one wishes to share in the turbulent waters of the Coral Sea, where the natural order caters to the strong and crushes the weak, but splitting the essentials is what guarantees survival. And if it’s worked so well in the past, why should he stop now? Therefore, sharing will always be a priority, even if their desires are fraught with selfish envy.

Jade is watching you again.

You’re sitting in the courtyard with Azul, gesturing wildly as you recount a story he can’t hear from where he stands behind a stone pillar. Azul’s expression is soft with amusement; his lips quirk up in laughter, and his eyes never leave yours. Your cursive may be a mess and you might be feeble in the face of danger, but you certainly know how to enthrall others. If Jade didn’t know any better, he’d suspect you to be a siren. Night Raven College would be the perfect hunting ground for a predator of that nature. Perhaps once you’ve charmed Azul you’ll devour his heart and leave a streak of gore in your wake.

That’s impossible.

Jade is certain of this fact because he knows you’re not a predator. You are very much the harmless prey who has wandered into a den of ravenous beasts. He wonders if the thought that Azul may be dangerous ever crosses that empty, pea-sized brain of yours. He’s as much of a hunter as the rest of the students here, and with those eight tentacles of his he could easily send you to a watery grave. You wouldn’t have much of a chance to struggle, not unless Azul’s own benevolence grants you that futile hope. Thinking about it—about the thrill of a one-sided scuffle—has his heart racing, his palms wetting with sweat.

Oh, but you’re not meant to be Azul’s prey.

So get out of his eyes. Step off of the stage that entertains. Untangle yourself from unseen tentacles.

You are Jade’s.

From the moment the two of you crossed paths—from the moment you took up a job at the lounge and relied on him during your training—you belonged to him.

And he’s not quite sure he wants to share you with anyone.

Perhaps that dumb smile of yours hides something far darker. Perhaps your blood wouldn’t taste as delectable as he once hoped if it’s already been tainted by Azul’s silver tongue. In his own paradise, an ideal world constructed within the confines of his mind, you wouldn’t look at another man, another woman, another person. Not another living thing. You wouldn’t speak to another man, another woman, another person. Not another living thing. You wouldn’t know the tastes of sweet poison or bitter love unless Jade chooses to bestow these flavors unto you. You would only see him, only taste him, only adore him with those wondrous eyes—eyes that are so impossibly strong even when the harshest of insults are thrown your way.

So get the fuck out of Azul’s eyes. Step off of the damned stage that entertains. Untangle yourself from unseen tentacles before Jade slices all of them off at the root.

These feelings ignite a perilous, potent spark deep within his chest. Seeing you smile at Azul in such a casual setting—it’s not right. This terrarium display is wrong. So wrong.

The internal fuse has been lit and it’s nearing its inevitable implosion. Stop looking at him with those eyes. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

If Jade could, he would slice your smile off and keep it for himself. Pin it to the wall like it’s a rare species of butterfly, your wings having been severed from the sky.

You’re unbearable.

He fears you wouldn’t belong anywhere in his ideal world, for if you found yourself in the depths of the Coral Sea he wouldn’t allow you to surface.

The most confounding specimen I’ve ever encountered.

Azul is an only child. His mother and step-father would miss him terribly.

— — —

Jade spies the delightful pep in your step as you skip past the bar later that same day. You’re balancing drinks and desserts on a tray as you make your way to a nearby table, and he’s immediately reminded of why he’s so drawn to you. You’re a puzzle he has yet to solve—an experiment he has yet to collect enough data from. If he could, he’d shrink you down to the size of his index finger and place you in one of his terrariums so that you could live out your tiny life amongst an array of plants. And Jade would be content to observe from above like a godly sovereign with the power to change your fate in a single snap.

Perhaps it’s not right to view you as a specimen or prey. Perhaps it would be better to regard you as a slab of meat, raw and uncooked, just waiting to be snatched up in his maw.

“Please enjoy!”

Your voice pulls him from his reveries. It’s a melody he’s come to savor in solitude. Naturally lilting, it’s the type of voice even the most jealous of souls would covet. He wants to reach deep inside your throat, grasp it for himself, and cradle it to his ear as if it’s a secret-spilling conch.

But claiming ownership of your sound isn’t enough. He wants to—needs to—devour your everything. Your body and soul, marking you as his, ensuring you’re kept under his thumb forever, seared into his own existence like a brand. Then your every breath will be his, and the blood that courses through your veins shall also become his. The darkest of reds might just suit you more than the aquatic hues of Mostro Lounge’s uniform.

Oh, what he’d give to paint you in vinous vermillion.

“Jade, could you cover for me? I’m going to take my break now if that’s okay with you.” Jade must have scanned your hopeful expression for longer than normal because you begin to fidget in front of him, toying with the hem of your apron. “Uh, that’s fine, right?”

“Yes, of course. Go right ahead.” He sends you off with his trademark smile, dusting his destructive thoughts away.

After you’ve retreated to the kitchen, he turns his gaze on the patrons, listening to the noisy din of laughter and chatter. He overhears a group discussing peculiar textbook titles and how most of them are unnecessarily convoluted and complicated. One of the students brings up a title that didn’t make any sense to him and he describes his surprise when he learned it was a book full of love spells and potion recipes. His friends, as all close friends often do, crack jokes at his expense, prodding for more information on who he intends to enchant. The conversation is bland and juvenile, but it does manage to strike a chord of curiosity in Jade.

Love.

Jade has never known the true meaning of romance. Such a thing does not exist in his perfect world. In some lonesome corners of the ocean, merfolk reproduce because they must. Because it’s the only way to survive. It will be like that for him and Floyd in the future, lest they find themselves ensnared in true love’s deadly trap and choose to reproduce for the sole purpose of fickle feelings. To mate out of love rather than obligation—it’s not unheard of and he isn’t opposed to it. Many humans adopt this way of life.

Jade would like to try it for himself, but he doesn’t know how. He’s never known the answer to this question—the one equation he could never work out. Is his heart too small, or is he incapable of comprehending the complexities of romance? Perhaps neither is true. When he considers the requirements that must be met to qualify love as love, he realizes the adoration he feels for you is not fluffy or innocent. Can such a grand obsession be classified as love if it’s dark and spiraling, condemning him to horrific visions?

Jade does not gaze upon you with fondness. He looks at you as if you’re to be his next meal.

Even when he feels like breaking you would quell some monstrous urge within him, there’s another side that wishes to simply lock you away and protect you from the world and its inhabitants. Because it’s the world that will save you from him, but if you were imprisoned in his world, where it would be just you and him, no one could ever hope to reach you.

Jade isn’t entirely cruel. He would like to share his hobbies with you. He would like to live alongside you in the Coral Sea, tying his life to yours. It’s not an impossible desire, but he knows you wouldn’t be content with this arrangement. Not because it would be unwilling. Not because it would be Jade who has fallen for you and dragged you beneath the waves. It’s precisely because it’s the sea that you might object. You would have to adapt to life in a new, underwater environment. You would have to relinquish certain pleasures unique to the surface, abandoning your bipedal friends and family to live in isolation with him.

But isolation is better than the other terrariums that wait for you. He’ll smash all of them so that you’ll only know this one—the one with him.

Jade has been moving on autopilot for so long now that it finally occurs to him that you’re nowhere to be found. The longer he spends counting the lounge’s staff, the more his observations are proven true. You haven’t returned from your break, which is very unusual considering you’ve always been so diligent about time management. Responsible, that’s what you are. It’s one of the qualities that’s won Azul over.

He surmises it has also shocked his heart with bolts of not-so-lovely lightning.

Despite the bustling, crowded lounge, he slips inside the kitchen to search for you. Usually Floyd’s crowding around you whenever you have a moment to spare, but he isn’t anywhere in sight either. Jade knows his brother and his mood swings well. When he isn’t feeling the lounge, he’ll escape elsewhere until his mood has been restored. He can understand and overlook Floyd’s absence, but yours is inexcusable.

The chefs are hard at work cooking up delicious meals, and all kinds of savory scents blanket the air. Jade glances at the knife block tucked away in a corner, filled with blades of varying sizes, as he passes. After watching you for so long, he’s learned that you often spend your breaks in the storage room, away from the eyes of customers and Azul. Perhaps the space has become something of a comfort for you, or maybe you just like taking shelter in the kitchen.

A sharp gasp joins the chefs’ clattering.

Jade’s stare snaps towards the storage room door. He frowns when he notices it’s been left ajar.

As he approaches, he can make out the sounds of rustling fabric and salacious gasps. He peers through the sliver into the dimly lit space, a single yellow eye spying a terrible scene. It takes a lot to stun Jade Leech, but the view before him is stunning in a very crooked way. It sends a shockwave rumbling through his body, temporarily freezing him to his spot. Unable to look away, to preserve his eyes and mind, he watches. Every inch of him itches.

Bile claws up his throat with acidic fingers.

You’re pressed against the shelves, skirt hiked high and panties pushed haphazardly to the side. Towering over you, anatomy pinned to yours in a sinful connection, is Floyd. His hands are gripping your wrists as he rocks forward to slot himself deeper inside. You search for a solid hold to steady yourself, burying your head in your arm to muffle your keening cries.

“Please… It’s… S’too much. Hold on,” you babble, clinging like a koala.

Floyd leans in to nip at the shell of your ear, eliciting a shudder and a squeal from you. “Not happening, Shrimpy…” His lips travel along the length of your neck, pressing playful kisses into your skin. “You’re really so cute, you know that? So cute and soft… I can’t keep my hands off of ya.”

“We really—oh—really shouldn’t do—hah—this!”

Floyd hums, nonchalant, and slowly slides out of your tight, gummy walls. The tip of his cock prods at your pussy once more, glistening with the dew of your essence.

“Why not?”

“Seriously… What if someone sees us? What if—”

Your retort is cut short when he snaps his hips against yours, filling you in a single thrust. You crumple in his arms, tears gathering in your eyes.

Tears. Because of Floyd. Tears.

“So what if they do? I’ll get ’em good if they peep on my Shrimpy.” He licks a stripe up your neck and then sinks his pointed teeth into the area, hard enough to draw blood. You flinch against him, your pretty face contorting with a mixture of pleasure and discomfort while he laps up your blood. Floyd hums merrily, the sound coming deep from within his chest. “Shrimpy always tastes so yummy. I wanna do this aaall the time!”

“Wait, don’t leave any marks!”

“Oops. Too late.” Grinning boyishly, he grabs your chin and tilts your head up to meet his greedy lips. “Lemme kiss it better for ya.”

Jade watches you melt into the kiss, watches you become putty in his twin brother’s hands. Your eyes flutter shut for the briefest moment, only to flash open when Floyd begins to thrust into you. He sets a hasty, sporadic pace as he pursues an orgasmic high. Your sobs are swallowed in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that leave you breathless and reaching. You claw at anything stable enough to support you, your fingers curling into Floyd.

A perfect fit.

While he stands there and takes in the sight of his brother claiming the angel he had hoped to someday make his, it dawns on him that the entire storage room is stained with the memory of you. Your smell, your existence, your everything—it lingers even when you aren’t here. It is imprinted on the walls and shelves; it is on Floyd. Your entire soul has been his long before Jade even laid eyes on you.

Now he knows why you frequent the storage room. Now he knows your secret.

He’ll open your torso and pry it out of you, crush it underfoot, and insert a new secret. A better secret. His secret.

Floyd finishes inside of you with a husky, satisfied groan, his arms wrapped possessively around your trembling frame while you bite back bawdy moans. Jade is overcome with a loathsome chill. You have never belonged to him. Not ever. Certainly not now.

“We should get back out there.” Your mumbling reaches his ears, subdued in the cramped storage room. “Before someone comes looking.”

“Don’t wanna. S’warm and cozy inside.”

“Floyd…” Greedy hands are roaming beneath your shirt. You squirm, attempting to pull yourself off of his softening cock, but he yanks you against his chest and holds firm. “We can do this again later. But right now I need to clean up and you have to work. If we take too long, someone will definitely come looking.”

Floyd rolls his eyes, unwilling to acquiesce until yellow crosses yellow. For a strained moment Jade holds his brother’s inquisitive stare, investigating his blank expression for an iota of emotion. The air stales between the both of them, unspoken accusations festering. And then Floyd’s dull hues brighten and a wide smirk blossoms on his lips.

“Fine, fine. We’ll get back to work now.”

An apocalypse rages within Jade’s terrarium heart.

ii. when he turns to the shards for a solution, the image that is offered is weak and hazy. if he is to live without his other half, he must find ways to fill in the blanks. and so it is said that the lonesome monops clutched the largest shard in a resolute fist and cut away the impression of his other half.

In some cases, Jade is Floyd’s shadow, a reasonable body double who is admired for his patience and persistence. Sometimes he’s the collar and the leash; other times he is meticulously unrestrained. Everything is an act, carefully curated for unsuspecting audiences. Floyd is all physical destruction. He is swift like a clean cut, devastating like a tsunami.

For the first time in a while, Jade cannot bear the face he sees in the mirror. It doesn’t feel like it belongs to him, for it is a reflection of Floyd. It’s a permanent reminder that the two of them are linked whether or not he fancies that. But Jade does not want to be the collar and the lash, nor does he wish to recall the day Floyd took yet another precious thing from him. This face is proof that even he cannot have anything for himself. It is evidence that he is bound to share and share and share until death. He will remain as the shadow, the dark, the salt, and the night for all of eternity, a two-faced creature lacking a true identity.

Neither of them addresses the elephant in the room. If Floyd shows any indication that he wants to bring it up, Jade sweeps the topic away before it can poison his mood. He knows as well as Jade does that it’s not worth bickering over, even if their hackles raise whenever they look at each other.

So Floyd’s been fucking you in the storage room. What’s so traumatic about that? Really, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but the image still persists in his head like a ruthless phantom. He’s left lying awake at night, sifting through that memory and the ones that came before it for any inkling of what went wrong. Was it his own patience that cost him? Was it the fact that Floyd could charm you in ways Jade just couldn’t?

They have the same face. So why did you choose to love his other half?

Without Floyd, Jade feels incomplete. That’s his family—his only brother. He shouldn’t hate his kin, but he can’t just sit with envy and frustration and pretend as if it’s okay.

The mirror reflects his grim countenance, sneering at him with troubling familiarity. Cracks spiderweb along the length of the glass, extending outwards from where his fist landed. Pain sparks beneath bruising knuckles, masterfully hidden under the pristine fabric of a pure-white glove.

The terrarium is filling with foul things, and Jade doesn’t have enough control to stop the invasion.

— — —

“It’s been really slow today, hasn’t it?” you ask, looking to Jade for his input.

“I’ll admit it’s unusually quiet.” He glances at you, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. He’s tired, but it hardly shows. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not at all! I welcome the break. Still… It’s weird. Mostro Lounge almost always has lots of customers.”

“I suppose it’s less work for us.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

Heaving a relieved sigh, you rest your elbows on the counter, content to watch the few patrons lingering in the lounge. Jade’s eyes travel along the length of your back, over the the dip and swoop of your spine when you bend forward, and he’s immediately brought back to the day he discovered you and Floyd in the storage room.

“I’ve got it!” you announce moments later, lighting up like a bulb. “The reason it’s so quiet.”

“Oh?” He raises a brow, feigning ignorance.

“It’s because Floyd’s not here. Everything’s super lively when he’s around.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. It’s a shame he’s not scheduled today. Oh, but it’s not so bad when it’s just the two of us. We’re a good team!”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“I’m happy we can talk like this. It feels like we never have the chance to speak during work and I’m always worried I’ll bother you if I try to start a conversation.”

“You couldn’t possibly bother me.” Jade pauses to ruminate on his thoughts before adding, “Well, you were awfully troublesome in the beginning. Ah, don’t look so upset. I’m only admitting my feelings.”

“Am I still troublesome?” You cross your arms over your chest, pouting.

You are. Very much so, I’m afraid.

“I tolerate you now.”

“That doesn’t sound any better!”

Jade chuckles. “It’s merely constructive criticism. Take it in stride.”

“Ugh. You’re the worst.” Despite that, a smile creeps onto your face.

It’s the same smile you show Floyd, so therefore it has no meaning. It’s not special.

Jade abhors it. He should be the one in that storage room with you. It should be Jade who touches and lavishes you with filthy praise before inevitable destruction. Consolation before bruises and bite marks. Sugar before salt. Love before lust.

You can’t possibly fit in his make-believe terrarium now—not when your heart lies with Floyd. Just what is his brother to you? What do you possibly see in him that you fail to see in Jade? They are the same. They are mirror images of one another. There is no difference.

So why won’t you look at him with admiration in your eyes? Eyes he’ll gouge out for beholding another man. Why won’t you kiss him in secret? Lips he’ll sew shut for touching a mouth that isn’t his. Why won’t you beckon him into that cursed storage room and pull him flush against you, joining together in bodily matrimony? A body he’ll cage to prevent it from fleeing. Why can’t you love him until the very feeling is leaking from your pores? Leaking like the blood that will run far and red when he transplants his love into your chest. Why must you associate yourself with the other half—the better half?

The half that’s won.

It doesn’t matter if Floyd’s willing to share. Jade isn’t feeling charitable. He doesn’t want to cut you up into tiny shreds and share. You’re for his enjoyment. This is a non-negotiable fact.

Perhaps he’s the worst just as you claimed. Because if he was the best he’d have you. Because if he was the best he wouldn’t feel the need to mourn a gutting loss. Because if he was the best he wouldn’t feel the need to fall back on a nasty trump card. But when fair play fails, one must resort to sordid schemes in order to secure victory. You can’t expect to climb the corporate ladder without stepping on a few rotted rungs in the ascent, courtesy of those who came before.

It’s fine if he plays dirty. After all, his feelings have never been defined by purity.

“You seem tired. Would you like me to fetch you something to drink?”

“Mm, yeah. Could you? I’d hate to trouble you.”

“It’s not a problem. Will tea be suitable?”

“Sure. I could go for chamomile. I heard you’re great at making tea, so I know it’ll be good.”

“I still have much to learn, but I’m flattered you hold me in such pleasant regard.”

“I doubt you could ever fail. You’re always succeeding. I’m actually kinda jealous. How are you so good at—oh! Someone needs me at table three. Be right back.”

Jade nods, replaying your words in a loop. I doubt you could ever fail. You’re always succeeding. But he has failed. He’s failed and it’s eating him alive because you’re so close and yet out of his reach.

You spread your wings like a good social butterfly and abandon your place at the counter. Jade’s left to prepare your tea in peace. He chooses from the vast selection lining the wall—chamomile just as you suggested—and goes through the motions of filling the kettle with fresh water. He’s working on a time limit here, so he withdraws his magic pen, mutters the proper incantation, and waits for the telltale hiss. Even though he would like to prepare it with the utmost care, he must be hasty and stealthy if he wants to slip the special ingredient in without garnering unwanted attention.

Luckily, you’re trapped in a conversation with a friend and won’t be returning to his side anytime soon. That’s another trait he’s learned about you. Just like Floyd, you adore chatting. It’s not difficult to hold a conversation with you, especially when you’re the one leading it. You shine when you speak. He needs to snuff you before anyone else comes to seek your light.

Perhaps it’s this intoxicating quality of yours that caught Floyd’s heart. Jade can’t quite ascertain when he started looking at you from less-than-friendly angles or what the exact catalyst for your relationship with his twin was. It must have begun as a wicked fascination. An innate curiosity with the surface and its humans. How else could Floyd have fallen for you if he rarely spoke with you? Was it your strengths that earned his approval? Was it your humanity that left him impressed?

It’s not fair, but Jade won’t whine about it. He’s not a child. Whining won’t solve anything.

He must love you until you shatter.

The kettle whistles, thus yanking him from his innermost contemplations. He lifts it, minding the burning surface, and pours the water into a porcelain cup. Steam rises and furls like wispy, ghostly fingers. He could keep the vial hidden in his pocket and serve you a normal cup of chamomile. But the situation isn’t normal and he can’t just charm you as he normally would.

That didn’t work, so he must cross that method off his list and resort to what’s next. It’s only natural to fight for the thing you cherish most, so he shall do just that.

If Floyd hasn’t broken you yet, he certainly will.

You’re back at the counter just as he finishes stirring it in with the now darkening, tea-tainted water. Jade hands it to you, reminding you that it’s still hot. It’s an empty warning. He couldn’t care less if the liquid scorches your tongue. Let it burn, he thinks, his eyes narrowed as he watches you blow on it so it’ll cool faster. Perhaps then you’ll stop tangling your tongue with him.

Sometimes love is as unforgiving as the deep sea, turbulent and harrowing. Sometimes you must kill the one you love to truly understand the feeling—to dissect it down to the biological, scientific level.

Like always, he observes you while you drink the tea throughout the remainder of your shift. You look so sleepy, your eyelids fluttering and snapping open. You’re slipping; he can see it. Jade wonders what face you might show him later—what emotion will reflect in fragile eyes.

He knows it won’t be love, but that doesn’t stop him from hoping.

iii. separated from his other half, monops is unrecognizable—a hollow monster who has lost fractions of his humanity in a selfish effort to dispose of unnatural characteristics. he cannot hope to find his own personality amidst the mess in his tower, so he sits before the broken, bloodied shards once again. his other half meets him there, shattered and in pieces as he stares.

You shift in your sleep, just barely breaching the surface of consciousness. Jade placed you on his bed after carrying you from the lounge to his and Floyd’s room, where he proceeded to bind your arms and gag you. You look mostly peaceful tangled in his sheets, an oblivious thing who knows nothing of the mountains he’s had to scale in order to arrive at this point—at the glorious top.

Floyd’s not here, but Jade suspects he might have already known what was coming. They’ve always known how to read the other. Maybe it’s telepathy.

Or maybe not. They’re just aware of the other’s monstrosities. That’s all there is to it.

It’s then when your eyes snap open. Jade doesn’t bother to hide the smile crawling onto his face as he watches you come to, slowly assessing your surroundings. It doesn’t take long for you to start struggling once you’ve registered the tie binding your wrists together and the gag shoved into your mouth. Your voice comes out muffled, but your nostrils are flaring. Your eyes are widening. He can smell your fear—taste it on the tip of his tongue.

It prickles his skin, sets it on fire.

Jade sits primly at the edge of Floyd’s bed, content to study you from a distance. You’re writhing desperately in an attempt to loosen the restraints. He’s tied them well. It’s a technique mastered and put into practice. You’re not getting out of this.

“You fainted.”

You startle, turning your head to look at him. The fear seems to diminish for a moment before it returns in full force. Your glassy eyes are pleading: Why?

“It’s not wise to overwork yourself. You should prioritize your health more.”

Oh, is this it? Are those tears? Already? When he hasn’t even done anything to you yet? Have you really been this weak all along?

You try to talk despite the gag, and the attempt is so pitiful that Jade crosses over to tug it down from your mouth. Saliva strings from the gag. Messy.

“Jade! What the hell?! Why am I tied up? Why am I in your room?”

He frowns. “I’ll admit I’m rather…displeased.” He could unleash the torrent right now, but he won’t. Not yet. “Perhaps you might know why my mood has soured?”

“I… What? Is this because I fainted? Look, I’m sorry. I’ll take better care of myself. Please don’t make this a big deal.”

He tilts his head, confused. “I don’t quite care that you fainted.” He seizes your chin and forces you to meet his mismatched hues. “I care about the company you keep.”

“The company I keep? I don’t understand. What are you—”

“Give it some thought.” His fingers dig into your cheeks. Hard.

You yelp, attempting to pull away. He doesn’t release you. “I don’t know what you mean! Seriously, what’s all of this about? Did I do something wrong? Please… Please let me go.”

“You’re getting there.” He lessens the pressure on your jaw. “Come now. You’re so close.”

“Jade, please—”

“This is regarding your involvement with my brother,” he begins, and horror settles on your face. “Ah, so you are following. Wonderful.”

“Did you… Did you see us?”

“More than I ever wanted to see, yes.” He smiles thinly and releases you. “I thought it was such a dreadful, ugly thing to behold. My own kin lusting after the only thing I’ve ever loved to such a degree.” He swipes a faux tear from his eye. His voice drops to a threateningly low decibel next, and darkness passes over his features. He looks scarily grotesque. “It made me so ill. Seeing you in that closet with Floyd… Watching you talk to Azul—to everyone else—makes me so ill. I fondly contemplated the most troubling things.”

“W-What?”

“It truly is a conundrum.” He sighs as if unloading a heavy burden. “To feel so strongly for something that even love and hate become one and the same… I want nothing more than to strangle you whenever I see you with Floyd, with Azul, with anyone who isn’t me. I want to cut into your torso and make you suffer tenfold for what I’ve had to endure.” His fingers curl around your ankles, sliding down to reach your shoes. He unties the laces, sliding both from your feet. And then he’s grasping them, rubbing circles into your soles. “I want you to look at me no matter what, even when you’re a shredded, bloodied mess.”

“You… You’re joking, r-right?”

“Am I?” He smiles again, but it’s wider this time. Exhilarated. Excited. “Should we see who’s laughing when I sever your feet at the ankles? He peels your socks off next, tossing them over his shoulder. “Do you think that’s a fitting punishment?”

“Fuck no! You’re insane!”

He hums his acknowledgement and reaches for your skirt. Your heart drops into your stomach, every muscle tightening with raw terror. Instinctively, you kick out at him. Your foot slams into his chest. If it hurts, he doesn’t let it show.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you creep! Stay the fuck away!” By the third kick, he catches your foot. And he stares at it. Quietly. Expressionlessly. There is nothing in his face. That horrifies you. “Jade… Jade, I’m sorry. Can we please… Can you please stop this?”

“Am I truly that undesirable? You would rather have Floyd than me?”

“Yes, of course! Floyd’s not a fucking pervert like you!”

Jade’s laughter is sudden and short. It trembles through him like an earthquake. “Forgive me. It was so funny I just had to chuckle.” A smug smile takes up residence on his face. “Do you really think Floyd is so pure? That he’s the perfect partner all humans dream of?”

“He didn’t outright admit to wanting to murder me so, uh, yeah, he’s much better than your crazy ass!”

Jade squeezes your foot once before setting it down on the bed. He crawls over you, his hands snaking up your thighs. “That’s a shame. You’ll think differently soon enough. He just hasn’t given you reason to fear him yet.”

“I highly doubt—hey! Don’t touch there!” You struggle again, your breath coming in short, helpless huffs. “Let go of me. Please. Jade, let go…” Your voice trails off, spotted with distress.

His hand settles over your clothed pussy next. Two fingers press up against that sacred spot, tracing the area experimentally. “This is that warm and cozy place, yes?” You shake your head at him, lips trembling. He smirks, vicious and mean, and strokes slow, soothing lines up and down the outline. “Is it your safe day? Ah, but perhaps love is stronger than medicine. Stronger than all of the filth Floyd’s emptied in you. What do you think?��

“No… No, stop!”

“It really did sicken me—the thought of you and Floyd. Together. Forever. If you were to fall pregnant, I’d have to take a textbook to your stomach. The alchemy textbook. That one would inflict the most damage, you see,” he admits with a pleasant hum. He watches the spreading wet patch with predatory glee before gazing back at you. “But you’re not pregnant, right?”

“I’m not! I’m not!” You gasp when his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, harshly tugging them from your skin. And then his fingers are inching towards your pussy. “What are you—stop! No, no, no! Floyd! Floyd, help!” You squirm beneath him, kicking and screaming. “Floyd! Floyd, help me! Please! Anyone—someone—please help!”

A shadow passes over your face for a second before his hand comes down upon your mouth to silence your incessant shrieks. Your sobs are softer now, each plea spoken into his palm. Jade exhales slowly, composing himself.

“You’ve said his name more than enough. Say it any more and I’m afraid I’ll have to remedy this bad habit. Just how much do you value your tongue, I wonder?”

Before you can even think of struggling further, he’s switching the positions. Sitting back against the headboard, he tugs you onto his lap. You try to get away from him, but he holds you steady. The gag is fastened around your mouth once more, tighter this time.

“Now, now. You’re not going to escape, so there’s no point in exhausting your energy. Pointless pursuits are never rewarded,” he chides, tutting. He pulls his magic pen from his pocket and flicks it in the air once. A mirror materializes, displaying your disturbed expression in the glass.

Your mind blanks out then, logic overridden with the intrinsic desperation to survive. Is that really you looking back? It can’t be. The (Name) you know has never looked this fearful. Her face has never been this warped with panic.

But then you feel something stiff prodding you from behind, and the horror triples. You squirm again, much more forceful, sobbing into the gag and shaking your head as if that will earn you a sliver of sympathy from him. He continues to hold you against him with one arm while the other reaches to pull himself free from the confines of his pants and boxers.

“We have the same face, so there’s no need to cry. If it really helps, just think of me as Floyd,” he teases, and it sickens you. Makes you feel so gross and filthy. You want to step out of your skin, travel to a place that isn’t here, disappear into the tile and never return. Tears trace down your cheeks in salty rivulets. You can only produce blubbery whimpers now. His erect cock curves up towards your stomach. Jade lifts your skirt to get a better view. The mirror reflects it all in crisp detail. “What do you think? Is it bigger than his?”

His knuckles trace your cheek, uncharacteristically tender.

“It will seem that way when it’s inside, won’t it?”

In response you shift in his lap, tugging at the tie tightly secured around your wrists, and he merely chuckles. It’s delightful, really, the way you move like captured prey. Your chest heaves when the fleshy head of his cock presses shallowly inside your pussy, sampling wet warmth. You pray it’ll end fast. You pray he’ll be gentle. You pray he’ll skin you alive so you’ll never have to spend another second in this body. Anything but this.

Jade doesn’t grant either of those prayers, for he lifts you up slightly, aims for home, and slams you down in one brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs. You choke on your tongue, biting down so hard that your teeth split the skin on the inside of your cheek. Blood pools into your mouth. It stings, but nothing hurts more than the unwanted intrusion. Shamelessly, much to your horror, your walls affix to him in an attempt to accommodate his girth. Without intending to, you catch yourself in the mirror. The stretch is sinful, your pussy wrapped snugly around him, and he’s slotted all the way to the hilt.

It’s torture for you.

It’s a twisted relief for Jade. A triumphant euphoria.

He exhales a shaky breath, his lips peeling apart to reveal a row of sharp teeth. In the mirror he looks every bit the predator he’s meant to be: cruel and cutthroat, staking claim on a stolen prize. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips as he rocks you up and down, occasionally bucking his hips to meet your soft, plush ass.

“It’s strange,” he manages through his grunts and groans, his breath hot on your nape, “I imagined this would feel more gratifying than any other gruesome thrill. Mm, but it’s not—” he slams you down again, reveling in your muffled wailing, “not nearly enough.”

Your eyes, wet with tears, question his reflection. You watch with bated breath as he slides your collar away, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. Your pulse stutters in his mouth, a jittery, fearful thing.

He inhales the pungent scent of sweat and sex, the scent of your fear, the scent of himself on you. From head to toe, externally and internally, you are covered in him, wrapped around him, molded to his very shape. You’ve gone stiff in his arms, too frightened to move a single muscle, but it only serves to excite him more. He needs to bear witness to all of it—to every inch of you, stripped bare and wired with anxiety.

Needle-thin teeth prick your skin. You wince and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Does it hurt?”

Despairing and hopeless, you deflate against him. Your body shakes with every sob.

It hurts. It hurts so much. More than anything has ever hurt before. And Jade knows this because he isn’t gentle. He has no interest in being sweet. He bites to harm. To kill. To destroy.

Jade sinks in deep: his teeth in your throat and his cock in your guts. And it hurts.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, his lips slick and spattered with crimson when he pulls away, breathing heavily. “I’m so pleased…”

The blood just won’t stop. It’s flowing in rivers, cascading down the juncture between neck and shoulder and staining your clothes. Did he bite something major? Oh God—are you going to bleed out? Are you going to die? Did he get that one artery—the throat artery—the whatever-the-fuck-it’s-called artery? Is that even possible? Why won’t the blood stop? Why do you feel so fuzzy—so faint? It really won’t stop. It’s an ocean.

It’s everywhere.

Jade pinches you to bring you back to yourself; his nails prick your thigh, imprinting crescent moons in skin, and it works. You surface, taking in big gulps of oxygen while your heart skips over itself. You can’t drift off even if you wanted to; your reflection is much too haunting, destroyed and debased in every possible way. It grounds you in reality, digs deeply.

“Pain is the most thrilling form of love. You’ve taught me something new. Thank you.”

From behind, peering over your shoulder, his reflection grins at you. Wildly untamed and blood-stained, he’s manic. Unhinged. Uncaged. His pupils are so large they nearly eclipse his heterochromatic irises, rendering both eyes beady and black. Two pits of a molten void—a starless outer space.

He looks just like Floyd.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: drugging

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jsluvtzu · 9 months

Text

housewife

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: she shows her appreciation in better ways

cw: SMUT! evil, vile, degrading smut, sana treats you like a 1950s husband would, cursing, slapping, just filthy, men dni

wc: 2.1k

a/n: sana in a suit sana in a suit sana in a suit

the aroma of the food you had been slaving on for hours dispersed through the whole house, filling the empty rooms and seeping into the thin walls.

since 7 am, you’ve been cleaning, tidying, mopping, wiping, and cleaning some more around every single corner of your shared home with sana.

you were what they called a “housewife”, but in sana’s eyes you were nothing more than a disappointment. a nuisance. a body that just does whatever is asked of her.

wiping your hands clean of any leftover sauce on your apron, you grabbed your phone from the counter to check the time.

- “5:48”

she should be home by now. sana worked a 9-5 at a corporate insurance company and usually came home around 5:30. you started preparing the dishes nonetheless and set the table with the proper silverware, one set of knives and a fork for her and one for you.

just when you finished plating the meal for her, you heard sana’s car pull into the driveway and her keys jingle against the lock of the door.

sana opened the door hastily and slammed it behind her, throwing her suitcase down and kicking her shoes off on the floor without a care where it landed.

you knew what this attitude meant. it happened at least once a week when her boss would overwhelm her with something and she would come home with a storm going on inside her head.

you hesitated to greet your wife and ultimately decided against it when she didn’t even look your way and just went straight to the living room, plopping down on the couch with a loud thud and letting out a heavy sigh.

sana took her suit jacket off and loosened her tie, turning on the tv and flipping through random channels to try and distract herself from whatever she had to deal with at work.

you brought over her plate to the couch, handing it to her. “hey honey, long day at work?”, your voice was gentle, but laced with a hint of worry.

sana paid you no mind, grabbing the plate from your hands and gluing her eyes back to the tv screen.

“get me something to drink.”, was the first thing sana said to you since she walked through the door.

you just smiled and went back to the kitchen to grab her a soda.

sana never ate dinner without taking a big sip of something first, so you knew better than to keep her waiting.

opening the can and handing it to her, you slightly blocked sana’s view of the tv and heard her tsks of annoyance. you quickly moved out of her way and went to go sit at the dinner table, the both of you eating alone, together.

that’s when you jumped at the sound of a plate slamming onto the hardwood floor. your eyes drawn to the scene of the crime, finding pasta and sauce splattered everywhere with pieces of ceramic mixed in.

“i’m not eating this shit. it’s disgusting.” sana said it in a monotone voice with no regards to how you might feel about it.

you slowly got up and walked over to sana, scanning the mess you had to clean up and avoiding stepping in shards of the now broken plate.

your face was contorted with both shock and anger, but you held in the last part with a clenched fist.

breathing out shakily, you mustered up enough strength to question sana’s childish behavior.

“why did you do that..” your eyes avoided hers and the grip on your apron grew tighter. sana was glaring at you through your peripheral.

“i come home from a long day at work and you expect me to eat that? i work hard just to be fed dog food?”, sana scoffed and leaned back into the couch, stretching her arms over the top of the couch and manspreading, shaking her head in disbelief.

“i spent at least three hours on that ‘dog food’, sana. it wouldn’t hurt to show a little respect.” your eyes had tears welling up at the edges, just restless to come out.

hearing that, sana’s eyes turned dark and her gaze was narrow. you fucked up. she tapped her finger rhythmically on the soft surface and nodded to herself, planning.

“you think i give a fuck? seriously, do you? i don’t owe you a single ounce of respect, whore. if i don’t like something, i’m not fucking eating it. now clean up your mess.” sana was fuming at this point. not only did she have a ruined dinner, she also had to deal with you talking back to her.

you grabbed the broom and dustpan from the closet and swept up what was left of her tantrum. you were so exhausted from cleaning all day, your body was spent. so tired to the point where you didn’t even notice you were wiping your own tears along with the sauce off the floor.

sana heard your sniffles and whimpers, peering over the arm of the couch and seeing your drained figure. she practically jumped off the couch with aggression and stopped in front of you, grabbing your face violently between her fingers and forcing you to look up at her.

your cries were cut short and you gasped at the sudden action.

“the fuck you crying for? can’t even do the one thing you’re made to do huh? all i ask is that you keep my house clean and have something fucking edible for me to eat when i get home. can’t even fucking do that?” at the end of her question, you felt the cold absence of her touch from your skin, only to feel a stinging heat when her hand lands on your face again, slapping you. the wedding ring she had on was sure to leave a bump. your eyes widened and the hand that you once had at your side went to caress your burning cheek.

“you’re so fucking pathetic.” another slap. this time you unknowingly let out a small moan at her strike, catching yourself and keeping your head down.

sana paused in shock, processing your response to her abuse.

“did you just fucking moan?” sana grabbed your chin between her pointer finger and thumb, lifting your face up to hers again.

“i slapped you.. and you fucking moaned? sana was genuinely curious, never hearing you react like that. her eyebrow was quirked with her lips slightly parted.

your eyes were glassy and bloodshot, your left cheek was marked red with her handprint and stained with your salty tears. to sana, you’d never looked better.

the darkness in sana’s eyes turned into lust in less than a millisecond. seeing you at her mercy and so helpless turned her thoughts into unspeakable ones.

sana looked you up and down once more before she grabbed your throat and lifted you off the ground, dragging you towards the counter by the stove with your back turned.

she stopped at the edge of the marble countertop and you winced at the bruising pain on your lower back.

sana trapped you between her arms at both sides, her hands flat against the cold marble surface. she shifted her leg between yours, pressing up against your core.

you were still recovering from the slaps you just received, mind blurry between wanting to be fucked and wanting to be comforted. but of course sana wouldn’t comfort you, the only way she expressed her “love” was by absolutely breaking you.

sana’s white undershirt was slightly unbuttoned and her collarbone was visible. her loose black tie and messy hair on top of that made every rational thought you had disappear. you didn’t even care about the disrespect she showed you earlier. if anything, you liked it.

“maybe i just needa fuck you until you learn how to cook properly hm?” sana snaked her hands around your back to untie your apron, sliding it over your head and onto the floor. her leg was still slotted between yours and you grinded on her ever so slightly, searching for relief.

“fuckin’ whore can’t think right unless she cums.” you whimpered at her words as sana crashed her lips onto yours, sucking and biting at them. the sounds that filled the room were sloppy and unsynchronized.

sana untied her tie completely with one hand and slid it off her neck without breaking the kiss. she wrapped it around the front of your throat and overlapped both ends at the back, tightening it and bringing it back towards her to hold you there. you moaned at the loss of circulation to your brain, the pressure in your head building up just enough to make your vision fuzzy.

you were wearing nothing except one of sana’s white oversized t-shirts and black lace panties underneath that apron. sana’s free hand slid under your shirt and up to grope your bare breast. the sensation of her cold touch against your warm body made you whine.

“mm- fuck, sana.” she rolled your erect nipple between her fingers and pinched it hard, eliciting pained moans from you.

sana observed you and saw your face losing color, immediately letting her grip on her tie go and pulling it off your throat with one smooth motion.

her hand trailed down to your hip, expecting to pull off a pair of shorts, but feeling the intricate pattern on your lace panties instead.

she ran her fingers over the material, humming in satisfaction. “you wearing these just for me?”

you nodded and pouted at her, whining. “all for you, sana, please..”

“please what? use your words, slut.”

“ ‘need you to fuck me so bad, please.” sana smirked at your desperation, hooking her finger onto your side and pulling your panties down, letting them slide down your legs.

your pussy was sticky from your arousal and throbbing from her teasing finger running through your slit.

sana teased your hole and went back up to your swollen clit, rubbing lazy circles around it and spreading your slick all over. you grinded yourself on her hand, silently urging her to give you more.

you glanced up at sana and saw her eyes fixated on your exposed core, watching the way her hand slid between your folds with ease and how the dim overhead light reflected perfectly off of your pussy, making you shine and glisten.

sana furrowed her eyebrows and held her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly sinking two fingers into you. she bottomed out at your cervix, pulling back out only to pick up her pace and slide inside you again. the erotic squelching sound from just how wet you were was disgustingly hot.

her groans were right in your ear, hearing her curse to herself about how tight you were. your eyes were stuck on sana’s flushed chest, her tendons popping out everytime she breathed. her breathing was heavy and uneven, and you could tell sana was losing herself in the trance that you put her in.

suddenly, sana stopped her movements and grabbed the back of your thighs, lifting you up and onto the counter. you hissed at the cold feeling against your bare skin.

sana pulled your shirt up, revealing your whole upper body to her.

she grabbed the front end of your shirt and held it up to your mouth, motioning for you to open and bite down on the cloth.

“keep it there, you understand?” you nodded, holding the shirt between your teeth and arching your back for sana to see exactly just how much you understood. she responded by tapping your thigh for you to open your legs wider, scooping her arms under your legs and sliding you forward to give her easier access.

sana’s eyes didn’t peel away from your chest for one second when she started fucking you again. her pace was inhumanly fast and yet she still managed to hit your sweet spot every time.

“oh my god, sana- fuck, don’t stop please, fuck” your moans were sporadic and words were mumbled, completely rid of any thought other than cumming right then and there.

“yeah? i’m fucking you so good right baby? don’t i deserve a good meal when i’m fucking you like this?” sana grabbed your face and squeezed your cheeks together, slapping you lightly a couple times.

you agreed with squeaked moans and squeezed your eyes shut, drawing out long yeses in between.

“yes, fuck- oh my god yes,” at that point you weren’t sure if you were answering her question or just begging for her to keep fucking you like that.

“ ‘fuck kinda whore doesn’t know how to cook for her wife? dumb fucking bitch. so useless.”

sana pushed her thumb against your clit and you felt the tightness in your core building up. moaning her name repeatedly, you threw your arms over her shoulders and pressed her face down against your bare chest, holding her there and cumming on her fingers with a loud groan.

you attempted to calm down your breathing and stabled yourself with your hands grabbing sana’s arms. she pulled her fingers out and shoved them between your lips, gagging you and swirling her fingers around your tongue.

“that’s what a good meal should taste like.”

#twice imagines #twice x reader #twice smut #kpop x reader #kpop gg #sana x reader #sana smut #minatozaki sana #i can’t stop writing for sana #that nayeon smut will be out later..

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lecsainz · 11 months

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SPANISH LOVE

pairings: carlos sainz x girlfriend!reader

request: fastest lap with carlos where the reader is his gf and surprises him by learning spanish?🥹 but drops it in so casually it took him a minute to even realise, and then he’s just so shocked and in love JJSJSS

authors note: so this is the first fic I wrote about carlos that's not a smau! let me spill the tea – I totally loved writing about him!

✩. . . masterlist !

Carlos was making his way back home after a frustrating race, his mind still replaying the moments that had led to a less than satisfactory result. The Ferrari had let him down again, and his disappointment was evident on his face. He trudged through the door of his place, exhausted and ready to unwind.

"Hey, babe!" your cheerful voice called out, breaking through his thoughts.

Carlos turned to see you in the kitchen, an apron on and a mischievous glint in your eye. You were focused on a pot, stirring something that smelled absolutely divine.

"Hey, cariño!" he replied with a small smile, already feeling a bit better just by being in your presence.

As he approached the kitchen, he couldn't help but feel grateful for having you in his life. Your support had meant everything, especially on days like this.

"So, what's cooking?" he asked, trying to sound enthusiastic.

You turned to him, a playful grin on your face. "Oh, just some Spanish magic. Thought I'd surprise you with a taste of home."

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Spanish magic, huh? What are you up to?"

You chuckled softly. "You'll see. But first, let me ask you something."

He leaned against the kitchen counter, intrigued by your mysterious behavior. "Shoot."

"Do you know what 'gracias' means?" you asked casually, as if it was the most ordinary question in the world.

Carlos blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Gracias? Yeah, it means 'thank you'."

You nodded, your grin widening. "Good, good. What about 'amor'?"

"'Amor'? It means 'love'," he replied, his confusion growing.

You kept your eyes on his, and then, with a sly smile, you said, "And 'te quiero'?"

Carlos froze, his heart skipping a beat. He stared at you, his mind racing to process what had just happened.

"You... you know Spanish?" he finally stammered, his eyes widening in disbelief.

You shrugged nonchalantly, stirring the pot as if your revelation was no big deal. "Yeah, I've been learning a bit."

He stood there, absolutely stunned. All this time, he had no idea that you were learning his native language.

"But... why? How?" he managed to ask, his voice laced with astonishment.

You smirked, adding, "You know, just a little something here and there."

He squinted at you, trying to process your words. "Are you serious?"

You chuckled. "Yeah, I mean, why not? It's a beautiful language, and it's kinda handy when your boyfriend is a Spanish hottie."

Carlos couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You learned Spanish? For me?"

You nodded, a playful glint in your eyes. "Yeah, for you. I wanted to surprise you."

He set down his fork, his heart swelling with affection. "Wow, babe, that's… I don't even know what to say."

You smiled warmly. "You don't have to say anything."

He grinned, his heart feeling lighter than it had all day. "No, seriously, this is incredible. You learning my language just for me… It means a lot."

You reached across the table to hold his hand. "I'm happy you like it. And who knows, maybe one day we'll be able to have a whole conversation in Spanish."

Carlos leaned in, his eyes locked on yours. "I'd love that. And you know what? I'm falling in love with you all over again."

You blushed, your heart skipping a beat. "I'm falling for you too, Carlos."

And as the night wore on, Carlos couldn't help but reflect on the amazing woman he had in his life – a woman who could surprise him with the sweetest gestures, a woman who was willing to learn his language just to make him happy. In that moment, he knew he was the luckiest guy in the world, and he held you even closer, grateful for every moment you shared together.

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icycoldninja · 2 months

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Dating Dante headcannons

-Lazy ass himbo, he is. Does nothing but sit around all day reading magazines and eating pizza, yet somehow stays fit and sexy.

-Constantly bothering you over something or other--often stupid things like how to preheat the oven to warm up his pizza, why isn't the TV remote working, or how come that light bulb in the kitchen is out even though he changed it "last week" (which was really last year).

-Calls you exaggeratedly sweet nicknames like: Pookie bear, Sugar, Kitten, Sugar Plum, Cutie Pie, Sexy, and Cupcake.

-Always wants to take you places like the park, the beach, the forest, Vergil's place, etc.

-When he gets drunk (which is quite often) he acts like a needy cat. He craves cuddles and headpats, and if you don't fork em over, he'll whine endlessly and stare up at you with cute puppy dog eyes until you relent.

-Never tell anyone about this drunken behavior of his--especially Vergil--or your poor baby boy will never hear the end of it.

-Comes home from missions very late at night and puts zero effort into being quiet so you can sleep. Be prepared to hear loud footsteps and clattering dishes at 4:00 A.M.

-Genuinely wants to spend as much time as possible with you, but his work often calls him away. Eventually he gets fed up with it and snaps at whoever interrupts your couple time.

-The world's best cuddlebug; always squishing you up against him with those big arms, keeping you warm and safe until the end of time and beyond.

-Kisses any part of your body any chance he can get, from short little forehead kisses when he comes home to full on make-out sessions right before bedtime. ;)

-Takes you dancing every weekend, and brings Dr. Faust. Shenanigans incoming

-Pillow fights are common when you're with Dante, especially in the morning when he tries to wake you up. He'll toss a large pillow at your head, which you will catch, then throw back at him, and the exchange continues until either the pillows rip or someone (think Vergil) tells you guys to shut the hell up.

-You and him work together to come up with ridiculous pranks to mess with everyone, such as putting salt in Nero's coffee or leaving a glitterbomb in the van to "surprise" Nico.

#Dante dmc #Dmc dante #Devil may cry dante #Dmc5 #Dmc #Devil may cry #Headcannons #Silly #Dante x reader #Icycoldninja writes #Cute #Dante x reader headcannons #Dmc5 dante #dmc5 dante x reader #dmc dante x reader #Devil may cry 5 #Devil may cry dante x reader #Devil may cry 5 dante x reader

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rafedaddy01 · 7 months

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Step Bro, What are you doing?

series masterlist

Summary: you move across the country and fall for your step brother who teaches you so many new ways to feel good.

You’ve been dating your boyfriend for a year and things were getting pretty serious, until your mom broke the news that you’d have to be moving across the country to live with your new step dad.

You and your boyfriend both agreed you’d try the long distance thing. It was good for a while until something else peaked your interest, or someone else..

“Good morning mother” you say agitated as you take a seat at the breakfast table. “Y/n..” she says in a warning tone.

“How did you sleep sweetheart?” Ward, your new step dad asks. “Fine” hi grumble.

You in fact did not sleep fine.

You and your long distance boyfriend had an argument and let’s just say it did not end well, nasty words were said.

“Okay” you mother drags out as she stuffs a fork full of eggs in her mouth.

“Your step father and I are going on a little weekend trip, we won’t be back until next week. You two behave yourselfs” she points a finger at you and then Rafe, your step brother, so just walked into the kitchen.

“Hey don’t look at me, I’m always on my best behavior” he places his hands up in defense and winks at you.

You roll your eyes and dig into your breakfast.

It’s finally the weekend and since your parents are out of town and Sarah and wheezie are each sleeping at a friends house you decide to ‘relieve some tension’.

Rafe won’t be home till later, you overhead him talking to topper and kelce about preparing for some ‘epic party’. Their words, not yours.

You make sure nobody’s home and skip up to your bedroom and shut the door.

You reach into one of your boxes that you haven’t unpacked yet and pull out your old friend, you squeal with excitement as you start peeling cloths off and sprawling yourself out on the bed.

An idea sparks in your head.

You and your boyfriends have been on the outs, maybe if you film him a little hole video for him it’ll fix’s his insecurities.

You prop the phone up on a pillow so he has a good view of your glistening pussy.

You slowly start spreading your legs and smile at the camera as you tweak your nipples and moan.

Your fingers dip in your heat and rub your clot until your back arches.

You reach for your hot pink vibrator and spit on the top before deep throating it.

You and your boyfriend have never actually had sex, you were still a virgin, but you have fooled around a couple times.

You brought the device down to your slit and turned it on, arching your back on impact.

“Oh fuck!” You groan and you slowly push it in and start pumping. “Oh my god” you moan as your free hand comes down to your clit.

“Mmh, right there baby. Don’t stop!” Your panting and you shut your eyes and arch your back, squirting onto your phone.

You turn the device off and start reaching for your phone when you hear someone clapping.

A rock forms in your stomach as you slowly turn towards your door

“Nice show” Rafe smirks at you and strides closer.

You quickly grab the duvet to cover your nakedness, “what the hell rafe! Get out” you shout.

He smirks one more time before turning around “if you ever need a helping hand, or cock, let me know” and with that he leaves.

It’s been a few days since the incident with Rafe and you’ve been avoiding him at all costs.

The two have been home all day but hanging out in spectate rooms.

You decide to watch a movie on your laptop and end up falling asleep.

When you wake up you search for your phone but it’s nowhere to be found.

You go out into the hallways and head towards Rafes room, “hey Rafe, can you call my phone I lost it-“ your stopped in your tracks by the sound of moaning, your moaning”

“What the fuck” you push open Rafes door to find him clutching your phone in one hand while the other strokes his cock.

Your eyes widen, but your intrigued.

You stand there watching him and your eyes connect, there’s no shame in his so you think why should there be in yours.

You close his door and lock it, in case Sarah or wheezie decide to come home.

You start walking towards him and he stops stroking himself. “About time” he tosses your phone, but not before turning on your camera.

“Shut up” you straddle him and trap his cock between the two of you

You grasp his neck and push your lips against his.

“This is so wrong” you mutter against his lips before he slips his tongue in your mouth. “That’s what makes it hot” he bites your lip before pulling away.

You two stare at each other for a while before you stand and start stripping.

“You enjoy my little home video, I see” you cock and eyebrow at him.

“I did” he nods as you continue undressing.

“It was for my boyfriend” you say with a smirk as you reach out to pull his shirt off.

Rafes jaw clenches but quickly relaxes as your naked pussy connects with his bare thigh.

“I’ve never..”

“I’ll teach you” he grins as he sinks you down onto his cock.

Your lips part in ecstasy as he slowly guides you up and down his shaft.

“Oh. My. God!” You moan as the pain turns into pleasure and Rafe starts thrusting up into you.

“I’ve wanted this since the first night I saw you” Rafe admits as he comes to nip at your neck.

“Rafe!” Your moaning his name as the core in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Let go for me baby, let go for me not him” he reminds you of your boyfriend as your high hits you and you shudder.

Quickly coming back to reality you jump off him.

“We shouldn’t have done that!” You grab your clothes and rush out of the room, completely forgetting about your phone.

Rafe reaches over and stops the video.

“She’s mine now bro”

He sends the video without any remorse and moves to gather his clothes.

This was just the beginning of your relationship with Rafe.

Pt2 🙈

Tag list:

@f4ll-for-you @v21sstuff @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @eventualoptimism @drewstarkeysbae @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf

#outer banks #rafe cameron #drew starkey #smut #dark rafe cameron #drewstarkey smut #outerbanks #drewstarkey #rafecameron #fanfic #rafe fluff #dark rafe #rafe sad #sad rafe #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction

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old-habitz-die-hard · 4 months

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bitches really hate when the person with npd exhibits narcissistic traits and behavior. like i told you full warning sign that im like this unapologetically, so why are you surprised? fork caught in kitchen kinda situation

#actually npd #npd positivity #narcissistic personality disorder #narc abuse believers dni #npd

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digitaldiarystuff · 5 months

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Worst Mistake

omg hi! thank you so much for all the votes on the poll it helps me and also, i think this’ll be a long story so i want to divide it to parts if you guys enjoy it i’ll continue so please leave likes and comments as much as you can🥹💕

————

pairing: Jude Bellingham x Y/N

summary: Jude was a close friend of your boyfriend, so you meet him. What’s the worst thing that could happen right?

genre: i think a bit of everything

————

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everything in your life was in place, you were in a happy and calm state, your job and your relationship were going well until he came along: Jude Bellingham. Jude was a close friend of your boyfriend Zack and the two occasionally facetimed or called which you knew about but you’ve never met because you were in Madrid whilst he played for Dortmund. Last summer you were supposed to go on a vacation with their friends but you had a family emergency that you had to attend and you didn’t mind at all. You were happy that Zack could get some time off with his mates and you didn’t think much about missing your chance to meet his friends but as soon as september rolled around, Zack came to you with good news.

“Jude’s signing for Real Madrid!” he happily exclaimed one day and you just shrugged, you didn’t care much about football even though you watched games with your boyfriend and family often.

And just like that, Jude came into your life. When you first laid eyes on him, you quickly realized photos weren’t doing him any favors. He was much more handsome in person but you tried shrugging the tingly feeling when you made eye contact because it was beyond inappropriate.

He first came to your shared house like the second day he landed in Madrid to spend some time with Zack before trainings start. He politely smiled and shook your hand as Zack introduced you to each other.

“Y/N, this is Jude. My best friend from childhood and this is Y/N, my lovely girlfriend.”

You smiled in return shaking his hand but you couldn’t understand why you suddenly started sweating. Your hands felt clammy and you found yourself hoping he didn’t notice but why was this important? You were just the girlfriend of his friend anyway. You three then sat down to have lunch, Zack told you all he knew about Jude’s diet and you tried to make something in regard to it.

“Everything looks amazing.” Jude said when you and Zack were trying to carry plates in.

“Y/N did everything, she also tried to make them as healthy as possible for you.”

The way Zack was talking about you made you feel even worse if that’s possible but Jude’s eyes on you made you feel zoned out.

“I can’t believe you put this much effort thank you so much Y/N” he said with a genuine smile and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest with his mention of your name.

You were never like this, you never once thought about being unfaithful because Zack was everything you were looking for. He was the perfect gentleman and you couldn’t ask for more. You loved him with all your heart so why was this man saying just your name had this effect on you?

“It was nothing, really.” you tried to cut short hoping they would dive into a conversation you didn’t have to take part in but every time Zack was talking about something you weren’t into, Jude brought the subject to you asking you your opinion. Any other day, you’d feel welcome and happy about your boyfriend’s friend’s behavior but not today.

Throughout the meal, your mind did things you couldn’t even register. You found yourself staring at Jude more than once, you even focused on his biceps flexing as he held the fork to put it into his mouth but everything you did made you feel ashamed of yourself so you quickly ate and excused yourself to wash some dishes in the kitchen even though you had a perfectly functioning dishwasher.

“Where can I put these?” Jude asked from behind you and you almost dropped the plate from your hands.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he said while you tried to catch your breath.

“It’s okay.” you smiled without looking at him. “You can put them over there, I’ll clean em.”

You turned around trying to continue but his presence didn’t leave the room.

“I can help.” he said while walking over and started rinsing the dishes you put in the sink and you smelled his scent which was so sharp but manly. That scent was intoxicating for sure, there had to be a chemical in there that made you high.

“Jude you really don’t have to.” stand here with me with nearly no space between us, you wanted to say but held your tongue.

“You cooked an amazing lunch for me, I can help with the dishes with no problem.” he turned to you smiling but you couldn’t face him, there was less then 50 centimeters between you guys and this was wrong but then something much worse happened. He slowly reached over and took a strand of your hair out of your cheek and his touch on your face and neck felt like being electrocuted. You instantly looked up at him and he was already staring into your eyes. You knew you should’ve looked away, this eye contact was going on for so long but you felt like time had stopped at that moment. His hand still touching on your neck holding the small strand of hair and his dark eyes staring into your soul, you just couldn’t and so couldn’t he. He was looking at you like he was trying to memorize your face with so much intensity but the moment came to a halt when you heard footsteps outside of the kitchen. He quickly left your hair and you turned back to your dishes as Zack walked in.

“You really shouldn’t, you’re the guest man. Just go sit in the living room and I’ll help Y/N clean up.” he said to Jude and Jude obeyed without any words. He left you in the room with Zack and your conscience.

After the cleanup was done, you told Zack he should spend time with Jude and you’d leave them to it and just be in your room but all you wanted to do was cry your eyes out. This infatuation was wrong.

You were slowly becoming sleepy when the door opened and unfortunately, it wasn’t Zack.

“Oh I’m sorry, I thought this was the guest room. Zack said I could use its bathroom.” he quickly explained.

“No worries, let me walk you to it.” you got up and Jude started following you like a lost puppy.

“Where’s Zack anyway?” you asked.

“He had to go to the office for some last minute work stuff.”

Oh shit, you thought.

“And I’ll be on my way to the hotel in a minute don’t worry.”

“Hotel?” you asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t have time to find a place yet so I’ll be staying at a hotel for a while.”

You were going to strongly hate your next move in the future.

“I actually work at a real estate company who deals with A list celebrities and business people, we make 3D designs of every estate we currently have. If you’d like I can show you a couple of houses.” you offered, you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut but this was helping a friend out and nothing more.

Jude’s face lit up immediately.

“I mean, if it’s okay with you…” he trailed off

“Of course.” you smiled and showed him the bathroom then you went into your office to pull up the drawings you had for houses that’d be a fit for Jude.

He came rather quickly and was standing up right behind you.

“Oh, let me get a chair for you.” you said standing up but he put his hands on your shoulders.

“Let me get it, it’s the least I can do.” he smiled and pulled the extra chair over to your desk. You didn’t realize but you were once again lost in him, examining his every move until he sat down.

You spent the next 20 minutes going through possible options, he really valued your opinion and told you time and time again he trusted your guidance but being this close proximity with him has made you go a little dumb.

“And we have this one. I think this is a good option, it has 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. I mean I love this one because it feels homey if you know what I mean, I think this is one of the best in Madrid. I personally would go for this.” you explained focusing on the screen telling him about your favorite house listing but Jude’s eyes were focused on you. He was very intrigued by the manner you talked about something you love. You could feel his burning gaze and tried your hardest not to look back. He leaned in close and turned his head to the home you were showing. He held his hand up to the screen and asked about something but his arm was in front of you so you lost all focus.

“Huh?” you suddenly came back to your senses and turned to him as he also turned to look at you. It was happening again, he was all you could see and he evaded your mind like nothing ever had. You didn’t realize how close you were sitting but there was around 10 centimeters between you. He was looking to your eyes until his eyes shifted to your lips and you instinctively licked them as you were suddenly feeling dehydrated. He loudly gulped and it was your turn to look at his adam’s apple. The tension between you was undeniable and you could both feel it in your core.

You didn’t even know it but he was slowly moving forward, he didn’t mean to it just happened.

“Y/N” he said just above a whisper. You couldn’t say anything back just waited there but as your noses touched, you got out of your trance and pulled back abruptly.

He also pulled himself together and you both strictly looked forward not daring looking at each other’s eyes.

He then got up from his chair.

“Um, thank you for everything. I think I should go now, I have somewhere to be but I’ll keep the houses in mind. Thank you.”

You couldn’t even reply back and just watched him escape the room and soon, you heard the front door slam.

Could you just avoided the worst mistake ever?

————

omg i got so carried away i can’t believe!! i thought this was going to be hard but i don’t think so anymore hope you enjoy please leave any comment that helps me a lot💕

#football #football imagine #football x reader #football x y/n #football oneshot #football x you #football blurb #football one shot #football fluff #football angst #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham x yn #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham

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