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lure-of-writing · 5 months

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Little Sister: Are you going to tell her or should I?

Summary: Morrigan forces Azriel to make a choice. Either she is going to tell you or he is

Word count: 2.7k

part one, part two, part three, part four , part five

The rumbling ground beneath his feet was one indicator of what was about to come. The other indicator was the shaking paintings that were hung on the wall. Rhys may be the most powerful high lord to ever exist but your power easily rivaled his own. In anticipation of your arrival the quill pen that had just been in use was placed gently on the desk right next to the piece of paper it was just being used on. The force of the heavy wood doors being blown open almost sends the paper flying into his face, if not for his hand placed on top of it. “It’s always such a-” the words pleasure to see you died in his throat as you cut him off. “Ok what is the deal?” one of his perfectly groomed eyebrows raised slightly in questioning at your tired tone of voice. “Oh please let's not act like you don’t know what I am talking about.” the eyebrow didn’t lower even a centimeter. Marching over to the inviting seat in front of his desk you ungracefully plop yourself into the waiting chair. “Remember when Cassian accidentally knocked me out?” you watch as your brother wordlessly nodding in confusion. “Good.” you huff out letting the room fill with silence leaving your brother in a stronger state of confusion then before you started talking. At least before you came into his office Rhysand could have guessed about a thousand reasons as to what has you so upset but now he genuinely does not know where you are going with any of this. “ Go back like a week or two in time after me and Az returned from the summer court and both you and him were avoiding me. Why?”

Rhysand knew why he was avoiding you but as for Azriel he's not too sure. Obviously he could take a very educated guess but that was about all he could do without asking. “I was busy.” Now the high lord watched as his little sister copied his earlier action of raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow in questioning. “Busy doing what exactly.” Silence once again engulfed the room as Rhysand weighed the pros and cons of telling you his reasoning for avoiding his own sister. A heavy sigh left his lips as he decided to tell you the nicer reason for his absence in your life. “When I walked in your room and saw Az helping you get dressed, that was obviously not something that I, as your older brother, wanted to see.” the continue on motion of your hand forced him to continue. “And as your older brother I obviously never want you to get hurt. In any version of the word. But as your brother I also realize, very reluctantly, at that might I add, that you deserve to live your own life. That means including having a romantic partner. So I was attempting to convince myself that if you pursued a relationship with Azriel that I would be ok.”

A pregnant pause fell upon the room before you spoke up “That is why you’ve been avoiding me? Seriously?” The warm tone of your laughter brought a warm sensation dancing up Rhysands neck and cheeks. Nobody else had the ability to embarrass him like his little sister does. “Rhys you know Azriel one hundred percent does not see me like that right? I mean yeah I like to use him to irritate you but he only does that because I asked him to.” your shoulders moved up and down in a shrugging motion. “While you may think that is true you have to remember for all of your life I have banned both you and those to pea brains of trying anything with each other so I needed some time to process even the mere thought of that happening.” you watched from across the desk as your brother pretended to gag. “I guess I no longer have to worry about Cass now that he has Nesta.” he added as an afterthought more to himself than to you. “That explains why you have been avoiding me, even if it was because you were having a meltdown over nothing but what about Azriel? Why has he been avoiding me.?” Moments of Rhysands conversation with Azriel played out in his mind. “I can only guess it's because after you paraded around summer” the sound of you scoffing interrupted his story. “Are you done being offended or can I continue.” Rhys watched as you rolled your eyes, taking that as his sign to continue on. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. After you returned I talked to Az about the different times I have caught the two of you in interesting situations, to say the least, and asked him about your relationship with each other. And since I have always made it clear he was never to see you in any way other than platonically I would assume he took that as a sign to step back from being around you.”

The quill pen you summoned was quickly thrown across the desk at your brother “You big overprotective bat! How many times do I need to tell you that Azriel does not see me like that.” Rhys easily caught the pen giving a not so hidden sly smile at your turn to be embarrassed. “No wonder why he's avoiding me. You made it awkward. I’m just his friend's little sister and nothing more. Now I’m sure you’ve given him the wrong idea of me.” A big belly laugh erupted from within Rhysand quickly filling in the room. “After almost five hundred years I think it’s a little late for Az to just now get the wrong idea of you.” the words barely escaped in between the laughter “You are a menace!” Rhys just continued to laugh as you marched your way back out of his office “I love you too!” The echo of his shout follows you down the corridor as you make your way out of his house.

The very next morning you made your way to the top of the house ready to start training. “Ah ah ah.” Cassian's voice tuts from across the open roof top. Your eyes scan the room until they land on the wiggling finger that matched the owners equally as wiggly head. “You are not to be training until Madja says you can.” scrunching your face you look at Nesta before making eye contact with the general again “And who are you? My mother?” A bellowing laughter swallows up the words that just slipped past your lips. “When it comes to training I sure am.” his larger than most bicep wraps around your shoulders tucking your body into his. Leading you to the entrance that leads back to the lower level of the house. Cassian had almost gotten you to the threshold of the door when you spotted Azriel from the corner of your eye. Quickly you twirl out of your training mothers warmth and strut over to the one and only shadowsinger. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” the fact you had to tilt your head slightly upwards had never irritated you like it did in that moment. You watched as his hazel eyes shuffled across the room taking note of every person who showed up to training this morning. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” you could tell he was being extra quiet on purpose “Oh really is that why Rhys told me-” the words died in your throat as strong hands wrapped around your torso and lifted you from the ground. “Now young one I don’t think interrogating someone is something Madja said you were ok to do yet. Plus training starts in two minutes so you can do your questioning at a later time.” Gently Cassian once more places you on the outside of the training area. Glowering you said nothing as Cassian chuckled at your lack of response before making his way back to the center of the area.

You watched as Azriel gave Cassian an appreciative nod and Cassian just patted him on the back before starting training. Something was definitely going on, you just didn’t know what. For now at least.

If there was one thing that living this long has given you it was an endless supply of patience. So for almost three hours you stood leaning against the wall watching both warriors show off different techniques following up with critiquing each other's quote unquote weak spots for techniques. Finally after everything was said and done did Cassian allow you to step foot in the official training area. Azriel was stood by himself drinking water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” you could hear how hurt you sounded to your own ears and tried to not wince at the sound of the pathetic tone you displayed. You watched as the male's face fell before you. “I didn’t mean for you to feel like I was avoiding you. It’s just-” you observed as it appeared Azriel was having an internal debate with himself before sighing a reluctant sigh “ you know how Rhys gets when it comes to you. After we got back he asked if anything was going on between the two of us and I said no. I respect both you and Rhys. I never want to betray Rhysands trust so I haven’t been avoiding you per say but you know.” he ended with a hefty shoulder shrug.

“So what I’m hearing is that you don’t hate me?” the facade of the shadowsinger broke in front of you to reveal a gentle, kind hearted male who would do anything for his family. The chuckle that fell from his lips brought a giggle to your own. “No, I don't hate you. I don't even think that's possible.” Azriel opens his arms as an invite to share a hug. Even though he was covered in sweat from head to toe you wrapped your arms around his torso pressing your cheek against his chest where his heart was beating. “Well that's good to know because I was starting to get concerned.” Another chuckle made its way out of his throat and the vibrations of his laughter once again caused your own laughter. “So” you drag out the last vowel “Does that mean you will go shopping with me tomorrow?” you propped your chin against his chest and looked up at your closest friend. “If I must.” His gentle teasing was met with an equally if not gentler kiss on the hairline of your forehead.

Ever since your confrontation with Azriel things seemed to go back to normal but not completely back to normal. Something was off that you couldn’t put your finger on but it was without a doubt better than it used to be. The flow of the inner circle had almost returned back to completely normal. That would be until a few weeks later when at family dinner everything would change.

It was very well known that dinners amongst the inner circle were tradition but it was lesser known that having a dinner where each personal either cooked or brought something to contribute to the dinner was also a tradition.

This time around it was Feyre, Mor, Elain and yourself in the kitchen. Collectively as a good the three of you were trying your best not to destroy the High ladys kitchen. Elain had no such problems as she was often found making the best treats for the family on a daily basis. The oldest and youngest sister along with yourself had managed to make an edible dinner item, even though it was more challenging than the three of you would like to admit. While cooking was a neutral territory for yourself in terms of skills, it was cooking for three grown Illyrian bats and their accompanying companion along with the rest of the family that stretched your cooking abilities thin. It was a miracle the food was even edible on a good day. Let alone a day with nine hungry fae waiting to be fed.

After much work in the kitchen everyone had finally settled down around the table, only after much wrangling on both Feyres and yours behalf. Rhys was at the head of the table with your sister-in-law while you were seated in between Morrgian and Elain. Across from you was Amren, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta sitting in that order.

Dinner was going as well as it normally did. Cass was making stupid jokes poking at Amren. Feyre was playing mediator, just in case they decided they wanted to destroy each other. And in turn destroy her house. Your brother was assisting Feyre in keeping the family under control and also dotting on her the whole time. Nesta and you were talking about books and Mor along with Elain were discussing different clothing options.

The smell in the room was subtle at first but quickly you realized the brownies you had put in the oven prior to everyone sitting down were finally done. You just hopped they were burnt. With an abrupt “Oh! Crap!” you sent your chair sliding backwards and hurried off towards the hopefully unharmed cooked batter. After a few minutes of cutting and neatly placing the brownies on a platter you re-entered the dining room that was just as chaotic as when you had left. Cooking you may not be the best at but you were a pretty great baker. The Random desserts you make were always a hit amongst your family and you were sure these would be no different.

“Anyone want a brownie? Of course Cass was the first to raise his hand and thus started your journey around the table handing out freshly baked goods. You had just rounded the corner of the table when you noticed that one person didn’t take a treat. Azriel. “Az? You don’t want a brownie?” you scrunched your brows together as you gently raise the platter you were holding as in an invitation. “No I’m ok” without realizing your face fell. “But you always eat anything I bake. You always say that I make the best desserts and you’ve never turned them down.” Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of you, instead they shifted between the platter of food back to your eyes before they repeated the process a few more times. “It’s-” his stutter catches you off guard causing you to raise an eyebrow in both confusion and questioning.

“It’s just that I’m full right now and I-” once again you made a confused look and glanced down to his plate “That's only your second plate of food usually you eat three or four so I know you're not full. Why don’t you want one? Do you not like my baking?” Once again you found yourself feeling extra hurt about a choice Azriel had made. Usually you were never this emotional but lately you couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the hit to the head that was causing you to be so emotional. As it wasn’t fully healed yet. The male was certainly free to do what he wants but this was new and confusing. “Oh help the brother and the mother.” you looked down to Morr where she had propped her elbows on the table and rested her head upon her hands. “What?” Your confused tone causes a giggle to escape. “Do you really not understand why he won't eat the damn brownie?” Just as your cousin was about to explain, Azriel cut her off. “Morrigan don’t. It’s not your place to tell her.”

Now this had your attention. What exactly was there to tell? And Why was Azriel being so secretive about it? After what felt like forever of the two of them going back and forth with each other you intervened. “Will somebody please tell me what is going on?” you didn’t shout but your question definitely wasn’t quiet either. You just needed to get their attention and it worked. “Are you going to tell her or should I?” Silence engulfed the room but Morrigan didn’t let it last too long. “The reason he won't accept your food is because you're his mate.” and in that moment everything stopped.

Taglist:

@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

@amysangel @mp-littlebit @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #rhysand x sister!reader

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s7-evermore · 7 months

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My Heart Stays With You | Leona Kingscholar x Mistress! Yuu/Reader

NOTE: Hey, so I can’t find the FUCKING fic I was talking about in this post and despite all my desperate searching I STILL can’t find it so I’m WRITING MY OWN VERSION OF IT until the author of that fic MESSAGES ME AND GOES “EYO DUDE WTF THAT IDEA WAS MINE” so I can search their blog and finally read the fucking story cuz istg I can’t focus on my schoolwork with that fic weighing on my mind like a curse that’s been placed on my family for 40 generations.

EDIT: someone in the comments lovingly told me who the author of the original one was and it was @/kiwibirdmother but all their posts disappeared so 🤡 fuck. LUCKILY tho I used the wayback internet thing and I managed to read them again :D if you guys want a link to it I’ll share thru dm cuz I’m too lazy to post something about it rn ejdkskxkskx

SYNOPSIS: Leona had been forced into an arranged marriage with a noblewoman, but he had already been in a relationship with Yuu. They loved each other too much, and both of them weren’t willing to let each other go. So in their own selfish ways, they stayed together despite the ring shining on his finger.

The two of them never thought it would get to this.

Leona had hoped that he would at least be able to make her his officially. All he needed to do was graduate and introduce her to his family, as reluctant as he was to let her into the royal life for the fear that she would have to carry the weight of it, he was far too selfish to let her go.

But Yuu didn’t mind at all. Just like him, she was far too selfish to let him go.

. . .

. . . .

. . .

When the news came to her that Leona had no choice but to push through with the arranged marriage, he rushed to her room in Ramshackle Dorm to hold her in his arms.

“Stay with me,” He begged that night, holding her in his arms with all the strength he could muster. “Please stay with me.”

It felt out of character for him to say those words with such strong emotion, but in the years they’ve been together, as she approached her fourth year in NRC, Leona slowly learned to lower his walls around her.

Only around her. Just her.

“Stay with me. I won’t do anything with her. I promise.”

“But…”

Hearing her strained voice and her choked sobs as she cried on his shoulder broke his heart. His heart… that he had given to her all those years ago when she accepted him with all of her being…

How unfair could the world get?

“I won’t. You’re the only one in my heart,” he stated firmly, a promise that he would hold himself to for the rest of his life.

“That stupid marriage is only for formalities. A political convenience. That woman and I don’t even have to do anything, and I don’t intend on giving myself to her. Not my love, not my mind, not my body.”

He looked into her eyes, furrowing his brows with intensity. When Yuu looked at them, she could feel the fierce heat of his love for her and his unyielding devotion.

She understood his place. He really had no say in the marriage, it had already been set in stone. Leona knew this well, and yet he couldn’t help but feel guilty… she had been so kind to him, so understanding…

“Yuu…” his voice was molten gold, and it seeped through the cracks of her heart.

“I love you. Only you. Please stay with me.”

“I will,” she said without hesitation.

He kissed her the moment she said those words, and a night of passion between them followed.

That wouldn’t be their last.

The night before his wedding, Leona drove to a villa some distance away from the palace.

It was distant from other residences and a little more solitary. Leona knew it would be perfect for Yuu, so he bought it immediately before anyone else could so she could live there with Grim after their graduation.

He knocked on the door, and it opened within a few seconds.

He felt his heart beating rapidly when he saw her face. For a moment, Leona felt at peace.

Yuu smiled, looking just as relieved, “You’re here…”

He moved to embrace her.

Ever since the arranged marriage, it was the first thing he would do whenever he visited her. An act of reassurance that he would forever be hers.

“I came just as I said I would,” He said.

“It’s tomorrow,” she quietly muttered.

“Will you go?”

“I promised I would.”

“It would hurt you…”

“It would hurt you just as much…” she said, her voice breaking, “I…I promised you that I would…always be there to comfort you…”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable any more than I already have,” he sighed. His woman was far too kind to him. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she tried to be a little petty.

“I think… I think it would make me more uncomfortable not seeing you, knowing that you would be with her…”

Leona knew that his brother was aware of his distaste for the marriage, but the will of their father, even as he lay sickly on his bed, had to be followed.

“Leona…”

He knew what that tone in her voice meant.

He looked down at her slightly, immediately noticing her half-lidded eyes and her sudden shy but sensual smile.

“Will you stay with me a little longer…?”

She didn’t even have to ask.

He pulled her to her bedroom. And there, they lost themselves into each other’s arms, wrapped up in the heat of their love.

. . .

. . . .

. . .

“Did you meet up with your friends?”

The question came to him as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. She had her head against his chest, his arm around her as he slowly traced shapes on her skin.

“Jack said that you asked him and Ruggie to escort me…” she said, recalling her meeting with her friends from NRC the past week.

Leona had taken it upon himself to invite some notable people from NRC, especially those he knew she would be close with. Most of them also knew of the relationship they kept going through with, as dangerous as it was.

Vil Schönheit had actually been the one to visit her first. He was invited as Leona’s acquaintance and former school “friend”, according to Leona himself. Vil was one of the few people who knew about their continuing relationship despite Leona’s arranged marriage, and out of respect for Yuu (who Vil was clearly fond of) agreed to keep it a secret.

Kalim and Jamil were invited as well, under the pretext of Kalim being the first son of House Asim and Jamil as his servant. When they came to her home, they reminisced on old times and agreed to keep in touch.

As she told him about their visits, she remembered another thing.

“I didn’t expect you to invite Malleus to the wedding…” she said.

“He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“Yes but…”

Although she continued writing to malleus, as he was her cherished friend, she knew that the two of them hardly got along.

“A lotta random royals, nobles and celebrities are invited out of formality, so I thought that I might as well invite someone you’re familiar with. Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus came to mind at first.”

He looked down at her as he stroked her hair, “I’m sure you’ll be fine with their company. If you’re around people like them then no one should be able to bother you. I made sure to tell them all to visit you before the wedding.”

Malleus didn’t come alone, of course. Lilia, Silver, and Sebek came there as the Briar Valley prince’s attendants.

Those four weren’t daft by any means. She knew that they had probably already figured out that they were keeping their relationship a secret from the public.

“Are you alright with this?” Sebek had asked her, his voice strangely reluctant and…soft.

“We both aren’t,” she admitted to him, “But this is… the only way we could live right now.”

Malleus sighed, lamenting how unfortunate your circumstances are.

“If you need a place to belong, let us know,” He told her. “Briar Valley will welcome you with open arms.”

“Thank you…” she smiled kindly at her friends, “But I belong with Leona.”

“Leona, congratulations on your wedding.”

Leona watched as Vil approached him with Yuu around his arm.

Vil turned to the bride with a practiced smile, “and to you as well, my lady.”

“Congratulations, both of you,” Yuu said with a smile that made Leona uncomfortable. He hated her fake smiles.

He hated this. He hated all of this.

“You truly are fortunate, Lady Aisha,” her words pierced his heart like a bullet. His hands were itching to hold her in his arms. “To be wed to Leona… well, it might not be easy but…”

Yuu met his eyes, something profound shining within them, mixed with hopelessness and pain.

“I’m sure…he’ll be a very wonderful lover.”

The bride noticed the look Leona was giving the human girl while pondering the meaning of her words. With a strained smile, clearly masking her irritation, Aisha intertwined her arms around Leona’s and smiled at her.

“Oh I am well aware of that,” she says with a sickeningly sweet smile, “he is always so good to me.”

Yuu didn’t mean to take her words too far, but despite the bitterness in Aisha’s words, she smiled like a flower in bloom, masking her pain like it was nothing.

“I wish you both happiness.”

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . .

“Kifaji.”

The royal family’s long-time aid turned around at the sharp call of Leona’s new bride. Her features were marred with irritation, unbefitting of the occasion.

“Yes, my lady?” He acknowledged her calmly, ready to take every complain she has.

“Who is that woman?”

Kifaji looked at where she was pointing only to see Leona chatting with Yuu.

The aid’s expression softened at the sight of them. Leona’s eyes were unguarded as he spoke to the young woman, seemingly taking in every word she was saying. Yuu, on the other hand, despite the occasion simply seemed happy to be in the presence of the second prince.

It was the same scene he had seen quite a few years ago, when Leona brought her along with some other schoolmates for Tamashina-Mina. She was a darling little thing— she was beautiful. She got along well with their friends and Leona cared about her more than he liked to admit. But it didn’t escape Kifaji’s eyes when he saw Leona buy her a gift. A necklace the same color as his eyes, just as she requested.

“You should have chosen one with your eye color instead.” He heard Leona say to her.

“No,” Yuu shakes her head, “I like the color of your eyes better.”

She was sweet and by no means a push-over. She knew how to keep Leona in place without being pushy, and it was clear to anyone that Leona favored her greatly.

Kifaji had…hoped that he got to see Leona happy with her.

If it hadn’t been for the arranged marriage that the two princes’ father wanted… then maybe… maybe then the second prince would finally smile for the rest of his days…

“That is Miss Yuu, a long-time friend of his Highness,” he told Aisha calmly. “Prince Leona is quite fond of her, as is Prince Cheka, please do get along with her.”

“They look too close to be friends,” she quipped.

Kifaji could only do what he could for the Prince he had taken care of…

“I would not worry about that,” he said, expression unchanging, “I am certain that they are only friends.”

The lady huffed before fixing her wedding garments and going back to the party, Kifaji could finally breathe.

It was 12 AM at midnight, just two hours after the wedding and the reception ended when she heard something park itself on her driveway.

Before she could get the chance to look out the window, someone immediately knocks on the door.

In a rush, she opens the door only to see the lion that had been plaguing her thoughts, feeding the shadows whispering in her mind.

Large arms wrapped themselves around her in a warm embrace.

“I drove here as soon as everyone was asleep.”

She returned his embrace, feeling the beat of his heart against hers.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I can’t stand it. She was so annoying…” he buried his nose against her hair. “All she did was complain when all I did was nap on the bed.”

Lady Aisha must have gotten angry that Leona wouldn't touch her on their wedding night... She thought to herself. The thought of Leona sharing a bed with another woman made her heartache. She wanted to erase the image in her mind..

But she couldn’t do much now, can she? He was a married man now, but it wasn’t to her… no, it was to someone else.

However…

“Aren’t you gonna welcome me home?”

He will always return to her. Never touched and never kissed by anyone else but her.

She chuckles, looking up at him with pained eyes.

“It’s your wedding night, you know…? You could at least…”

“I told you, I ain’t touchin’ her.”

“You…you don’t have to… but it might make your family mad if you suddenly—“

He places a hand under her chin and forces her to look at him before stroking her cheek.

“I don’t care,” he says with finality. “I don’t care about that stupid wedding. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about any of them.”

His forehead touches hers, a tear escapes her eye.

“I care about us.”

And he kisses her with more love than he could ever give.

Another night passes, and Leona is once more entangled in Yuu’s arms.

#AAAAAAARRGGGHHHHHH #I WROTE THIS OUT OF SPITE #I HOPE THE WRITER WHO WROTE THE THING I WAS LOOKING FOR SUDDENLY DMS ME AND SLAPS MY FACE SO I CAN GO TO THEIR BLOG AND FIND THE FIC T^T #LET LEONA AND YUU BE HAPPY #STUPID ARRANGED MARRIAGE SHIT UGH #LEONA IS SO LOYAL TO YUU YALL HE AINT TOUCHIN NO WOMAN #HE'S ON HIS WAY TO MASTERMIND THAT OTHER LADY OUT OF HIS LIFE DOE JDKFVNKSDFJNDKFJVN #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #disney twst #twst #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #Mistress! Yuu

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loudstan · 2 months

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(67) Days of Whatever the Fuck that Was (Epilogue)

Summary: Chenle wasn't interested in committed relationships until he met the one. The problem is that now she is the one who doesn't want to commit to him.

Pairing: Werewolf! Chenle x Siren! Female reader

Warnings: Toxic behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamic, smut, angst, daddy Chenle supremacy, breeding kink, overstimulation...probably other stuff too, I don't remember.

AN: This is to give our toxic couple a happier ending. But you know me, I needed some angst. Things work out this time though, so I hope you guys enjoy it!

__________________________________________

“I can’t take you anywhere,” Chenle reprimanded you as soon as you both entered the penthouse. He took his shoes off and loosened his tie, glaring at you indignantly. “What were you even thinking?!”

“You told me to try to enjoy myself,” you replied nonchalantly, taking off your high heels and walking past him.

He grabbed your arm and you sighed. It meant he wasn’t done talking.

“Is that how you enjoy yourself? Getting wasted and flirting with my pack brother who, I cannot stress this enough, was the groom?!”

“I was sober,” you corrected him.

“Would it kill you to behave for once?” he groaned. “The entire pack was there–fuck, this is so humiliating–”

“Then stop trying to make me attend events and fit in your life, Chenle–”

“You are part of my life!” he exclaimed. “We’ve been mated for 3 months, Y/N. Get over it!”

“Because of a connection that you forced,” you spat angrily, pulling away from him and making your way to the bedroom.

“Oh, there you go again,” Chenle groaned, following you. “I tried to do things right with you, but you’re the one who started this fucked up dynamic we have!”

“Blame me all you want,” you said calmly, sitting in front of the dressing table and taking your earrings off. “It doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t choose to be stuck here with you.”

Chenle’s furious eyes met yours in the mirror. He then glared at the handmade seashell necklace that adorned your neck. “What happened to the necklace I gave you?”

You pointed at the closet vaguely and he opened it to find a paper bag full of little boxes with all the jewelry he kept giving you.

“I like this one better,” you said, taking the necklace off and placing it on the table gently. “It was a gift from my best friend, who I don’t get to travel with anymore because of you,” you commented passive-aggressively.

“It covers my mark,” Chenle complained.

“Perfect. That was the idea,” you said, turning around and staring at him challengingly.

Sex with Chenle always started with a fight. At least that’s the way things have been since you two became official. You kept provoking each other until one of you would snap and pull the other into a kiss, which led to rough, angry sex.

Today was no exception. The stunt you pulled at Doyoung’s wedding made him turn red with anger and jealousy. He didn’t want to ruin the event so he laughed it off in front of the others and gave your thigh a warning squeeze under the table. But once you were finally home he could release all that pent-up frustration by pounding into you relentlessly.

Now your hands were tied behind your back with his belt and your chest was pressed on the wooden surface of the same dressing table you were sitting at earlier. You both were still fully dressed; you with your tiny dress pulled up so the fabric rested wrinkled on your back and your panties had been moved to the side to allow the pleasurable intrusion. He was still wearing his half-unbuttoned shirt and his pants and underwear pooled on the floor around his legs. There had been no time to get undressed. When you both were this angry you needed each other fast and rough.

“That’s right, princess,” he grunted when he felt you tightening around him. “I’m the one who gets to take you home and fuck you this good.”

You wished you could scoff at his arrogance but he was fucking you good.

“Right t-there!” you moaned instead, trying to communicate that he was hitting the perfect spot to have you cumming in seconds, but he already knew that. He knew your body very well. You were incredibly compatible in bed.

…If only you were compatible in other ways too.

“O-oh…,” your voice shook with pleasure. “Don’t stop, don’t stop–”

“Bossy, aren’t we?” he teased, but he complied. And with a few more thrusts he had you coming with a loud moan.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked when you were coming down from your high, admiring the multiple hickeys and love bites he had left on your neck and shoulders.

You lifted your head with difficulty and locked eyes with him in the mirror. “I…,” you croaked weakly, “I belong to no one.”

Chenle pulled you by your hair making you hiss.

“What did you say?”

“I’m not fucking yours,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

A subtle smirk formed on Chenle’s lips. He pulled out of you, despite not having had his release yet, and forced you to sit back down on the chair.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, casually walking away.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” you asked with a scoff, watching his movements in the mirror.

“Who said we were done?” he replied with another question, turning around to show you what he had gone to find in his nightstand drawer: a hitachi wand.

“Chenle,” you warned him, trying to give him an intimidating glare, but he either didn’t notice or he didn’t care, pulling a chair to sit right behind you, spreading his legs to fit you between them, and placing the vibrator dangerously close to your crotch.

You locked eyes in the mirror.

“Anything you wanna say?” he asked with fake innocence. “Do you finally want to admit that you’re mine? Or do you maybe want to apologize for being a brat at the wedding?”

You defiantly clenched your jaw.

He arched his eyebrow expectantly.

You didn’t say a word.

So he turned on the toy and pressed it against your clothed cunt harshly.

You gasped and quickly closed your thighs but you ended up trapping the vibrator between them and increasing the stimulation.

“Chenle!” you breathed out, squirming defenselessly with your arms still tied behind you while he held you against his chest with one of his arms around your waist. “You…Y-you asshole!”

“Who do you belong to?” he asked you again.

“No one!” you yelled.

“Wrong,” he countered, turning up the intensity.

You don’t know how many times he made you cum like that. He kept going until your body was glistening with sweat, and your brain had turned into mush. Your spent body was leaning pliantly on his chest while he teasingly grazed the wand against your clothed clit.

He moved his hand from your waist to your chin, to make you look at his reflection in the mirror.

“Who do you belong to?” he whispered looking into your dazed eyes, but your eyes rolled back as another orgasm hit you before you could respond.

Chenle chuckled. “You look so cute like this,” he murmured. “So docile. Now all you have to do is say you belong to me and you’ll be my perfect little princess.”

You let out a soft whimper, but that wasn’t the answer he wanted. It was cruel how he placed the wet toy on your abused pussy again and started moving it in circles. A silent scream escaped you, followed by pathetic sobs.

“My poor Y/N,” he whispered, kissing your tear-stained cheek. “Let me help you. All you have to do is say ‘I’m yours’. C’mon, princess, say it.”

“I-I’m y–...haa,” you babbled incoherently.

“Almost there, Y/N, you’re doing so well,” he praised you without stopping his hand from tormenting you with the vibrator. “Say ‘I’m yours.’”

“I’m y-yours…,” you choked out.

“Louder,” he groaned, nibbling on your neck.

“I’m yours,” you sobbed, trembling because of a new orgasm approaching.

“Louder!”

“I’m yours, daddy–,” you cried, with a breathy, high-pitched moan, squirting all over the toy and his hand.

Chenle’s eyes widened and he dropped the hitachi wand in shock. Did you just call him daddy?!

He released a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and he slowly untangled his arms from your body to make three discoveries:

He had come untouched. A generous amount of sticky white liquid decorated the back of your wrinkled dress.

You were about to pass out, so he quickly untied your wrists and picked you up to take you to the bed.

He had marked you. Again. As soon as he gently lay you down he saw a fresh wound on your neck, barely an inch away from the one he gave you months ago.

He quickly went to grab a wet towel to clean you up with one hand, while holding his phone with the other to call Jaemin.

“Hello?” Answered Jaemin’s sleepy voice.

“I bit my mate,” Chenle blurted out anxiously.

“…Yeah,” the older wolf’s voice replied after a moment of silence. “That’s what we do…”

“I mean—I bit her again. I gave her another mark,” Chenle explained.

“Congratulations,” Jaemin yawned.

“She’s gonna be okay, right?” Chenle asked nervously. Jaemin was a healer so he surely knew what to do in this case.

“Chenle, it’s fine. We only need to mark our mates once to bond them to us, but an extra bite or two is not unheard of.”

“…So it’s not dangerous?”

“It’s not,” Jaemin assured him. “Now, calm down and go to bed. It’s 3 AM.”

Chenle mumbled a ‘thank you’ and hung up the phone.

He continued cleaning your body carefully. Then he changed your clothes into something more comfortable; one of the silky PJs that he had bought you and you refused to wear. Finally, he removed your makeup and applied some ointment on your sore wrists while you slept peacefully.

Trying to not wake you up, he lay down on his side of the bed after taking a shower. He was about to fall asleep when he felt your body’s warmth closer to him and one of your arms hugged his waist.

“Y/N?” He whispered, but there was no reply. You were asleep.

Chenle sighed and turned to his side to face you, gently accommodating you in his arms and caressing your hair. It wasn’t the first time that you got close to him in your sleep.

He only wished you acted like this when you were awake too.

A couple of days later you received an unexpected visit.

You were coming out of the shower when you heard the bell ring followed by distant voices. You assumed they were Chenle’s friends who you weren’t interested in meeting so you continued getting dressed and drying your hair nonchalantly until Chenle entered the room.

“Can you come out when you’re ready?” He asked quietly.

“Why?” You asked back monotonously.

“Taeyong hyung and Doyoung hyung are here.”

Ah, yes. You remembered them; the one who’s about to be a dad and the one who just got married.

“So?”

“They said there’s something they need to discuss with both of us.”

You sighed. “Do they also want to tell me off because of what happened at the wedding? It was a harmless joke.”

“I don’t reckon they’re here to give you an award,” he deadpanned.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you shrugged, going back to applying lotion on your legs.

“Y/N,” he paused to take a deep breath in and exhale slowly, trying to avoid an argument in case his pack members heard. “Please,” he said through gritted teeth.

You sighed and muttered an annoyed ‘fine’, finishing your beauty routine while Chenle went to entertain the guests. You heard the sound of their animated talk and laughter, but it stopped abruptly when you came out of the room to join them.

Taeyong was the first to see you. His mouth opened in shock and his eyes widened. Right after, Doyoung looked your way and gasped. Finally, Chenle followed their eyes and understood what had caused such commotion: your tank top exposed all the recent marks Chenle had left on your body. From the purple and greenish bruises all over your neck and chest to your still reddened wrists.

He quickly stood up and dragged you back to the bedroom.

“What are you doing?!” He whisper-shouted.

“You told me to join you,” you reminded him.

“When you’re ready.”

“I am ready,” You replied confusedly.

“I mean—,” he sighed defeatedly. “Can you cover up, please?”

“Cover up?” You scoffed.

“Unless you want to show off my marks.”

“As if,” you deadpanned.

“Then put on a proper shirt before you join us,” he said, leaving the bedroom to go back to his guests.

There was an awkward silence in the living room.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Chenle finally said.

“Looks like you mauled her,” Taeyong commented.

“She could easily convince the police you kidnapped her with those wrists,” Doyoung added.

“It was just…sex stuff,” Chenle quickly assured.

“Even the extra bite?” Doyoung asked skeptically.

“Google says it happens sometimes,” Chenle defended himself with the knowledge he gathered from the internet. “Jaemin said so too.”

“If you’re feeling desperately possessive, yes,” Taeyong nodded slowly.

Before the younger could reply, you joined them again, this time wearing a t-shirt that covered you a little better. You sat down on the same sofa as your mate but in the opposite corner.

“Hey,” Taeyong greeted you with a polite smile. “I don’t know if you remember us. I’m Taeyong and this is Doyoung. We’re Chenle’s pack brothers.”

“How’s it going, Y/N?” Doyoung asked, smiling too.

You thought about it for a second. Should you tell him you hated your life here and while Chenle googled if it was okay to bite his mate more than once you googled how to get rid of the mating bond?

“All good,” you said instead.

“Is Chenle treating you well?” Taeyong asked this time.

“Of course I am,” Chenle scoffed.

“I’m asking her.”

You paused again. To be fair, he cared for you a lot. He was always making sure you ate and trying to remember the things you like to get them for you. The only problem was that your only form of communication was arguing or yelling at each other.

“Yeah, fine,” you shrugged.

Taeyong and Doyoung exchanged worried looks before Doyoung spoke up.

“Okay…don’t panic but this is an intervention.”

“A what?!” both you and Chenle shrieked.

“We know that the way your relationship started was…unusual,” Doyoung explained, choosing his words carefully. “But we were hoping you would be getting along by now.”

“And you’re not,” Taeyong declared. “It’s been months and you don’t seem to be able to stand each other.”

“Because we hate each other,” you agreed.

“No, we don’t,” Chenle contradicted you quickly. “We’re just going through a rough patch.”

“This entire relationship is a rough patch!” you rolled your eyes.

“Maybe if someone wasn’t so stubborn–”

“This is exactly what I mean,” Doyoung intervened. “Even if you imprinted on each other…maybe you two–...”

“Maybe you two shouldn’t be together,” Taeyong said with a sigh.

There was a dead silence in the room.

“That’s ridiculous,” Chenle murmured. “I imprinted on her.”

“I know,” Taeyong nodded with sad eyes. “But maybe you shouldn’t have.”

Chenle opened his mouth and closed it dumbly again. Taeyong, a hopeless romantic who firmly believed in imprinting and destiny, was telling him that you two were the exception. Your relationship was bad enough to make him question The Moon’s choice of mates.

“We’re already mated,” Chenle insisted.

“There are ways to undo it.”

“Do you want me to suffer to death?” Chenle finally snapped. “You know damn well a wolf can’t survive for long if they part with their mate.”

“There are wolves who have never met their mate and they live a good life,” Taeyong informed him.

“But we already met!”

“That can also be undone.”

You, who had been quiet the entire time, finally spoke up. “...What do you mean?”

“It’s…uncommon,” Doyoung spoke cautiously. “Memory-erasing spells are against the law…But there are cases in which a partial memory block is allowed if taken to court–”

“What are you talking about?” Chenle growled, glaring at Doyoung like he had just insulted him.

“If you two forget you ever met, the bond will break easily and you two can go separate ways,” Doyoung explained.

“No,” Chenle shook his head stubbornly. “We’ll fix our problems ourselves.”

Taeyong sighed before turning to you and calling your name softly. “Y/N, what do you think?”

You stared at him blankly. You had been actively looking for ways to break the bond but losing all memories of Chenle was so…permanent. You looked at Doyoung, and then at Chenle, who was watching you intently.

“And then what?” you finally asked. “My crew left a while ago and I don’t know anyone here. What becomes of me once I forget the reason I’m here?”

“You could contact someone you trust—a friend or family member, and we can wait until they get here to take care of you before proceeding,” Taeyong said. “If you want to proceed, that is.”

You nodded absentmindedly, under Chenle’s incredulous eyes.

“If this is something you both want to do, I’ll handle your case myself,” Doyoung assured you. “I know a few people that could speed this up a bit.”

“But,” Taeyong added, “you must understand that once it’s done there’s no way back.”

You nodded again. Chenle remained silent.

“Can I think about it?” you finally asked.

“Of course,” Taeyong said. “This is a very important decision, so please take as much time as you need.”

You thanked him. Chenle didn’t.

Even when they were finally gone, Chenle wouldn’t speak. It was only when you were lying in bed, your eyes closed as you tried to fall asleep that you heard his quiet voice from beside you.

“I can’t believe you’re considering it.”

You turned your head to the side and opened your eyes. He was staring at the ceiling.

“Is it really that surprising? All we do is fight,” you said.

When he didn’t reply for a whole minute you assumed the conversation was over and turned to lie on your side, staring at the wall.

“I don’t hate you,” you heard him murmur after a while.

“I don’t actually hate you either…,” you replied, not daring to look at him. “I just say stuff sometimes.”

“Sometimes I can be…mean, too.”

You smiled bitterly. “Quite the pair we are, huh?”

“Could be worse.”

“Have you seen worse?” you asked, turning around again to look at him. He was already staring you back.

“...No,” he admitted.

You snorted and he laughed softly too.

“We suck,” he said lightheartedly like the situation was so bad all he could do was laugh.

“But at least I’m quite good at sucking,” you teased him.

“Can you not give me a hard-on right now?” he groaned. “We were having a moment.”

“Not my fault you’re not as good at sucking as me,” you shrugged.

His eyes lit up and you could distinguish the hint of a smirk on his face despite the dim light in the room.

“Yeah?” he breathed out.

Sex with Chenle always started with a fight. This was probably the only exception. Both of you playfully pleasuring each other with no aggression driving your actions was just new. But you definitely didn’t hate having your mouth on his cock while he had you sitting on his face.

You swirled your tongue around the tip, determined to make him come first. He gasped and his hips chased your mouth, but when he heard you giggle he quickly focused back on his task of getting you off first. He licked long stripes up and down your pussy and you moaned around him. Now was his turn to chuckle.

“Having fun?” you breathed out, pulling him out of your mouth momentarily.

He hummed, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue playfully.

You let out a choked moan. Cheeky bastard.

But you weren’t going to lose. You quickly took him back in your mouth and deep-throated him as far as you could, trying to ignore the uncomfortable stretch. He moaned loudly, but soon retaliated, grabbing onto your ass cheeks and pulling you down forcefully towards his face.

Your eyes rolled back as you moaned, bobbing your head up and down. He was equally desperate, moving his head up and down, and then side to side to let his tongue stroke your cunt in all the right places. Soon you both lost control; you rode his face mindlessly, and he fucked into your mouth eagerly; both of you holding onto each other’s thighs and letting out lewd, wet, loud sounds until you saw white and were trembling with pleasure.

“F-fuck…,” he whispered when you both were lying side by side, trying to catch your breath.

“You didn’t have to go that hard,” you mumbled, still unable to stop your legs from twitching.

“You sucked the soul out of me,” he countered.

“I won by the way,” you said.

He quickly turned to look at you, frowning. “You did not. You came first.”

“Ha! You wish, pup. You came first.”

“You fucking liar!”

…Sometimes, sex with Chenle also ended with a fight. And then your relationship would go back to being as unpleasant as usual.

Until it got worse.

“I talked to Yeosang,” you casually said one day, interrupting the awkward meal you were sharing.

“Who?” he asked, uninterested.

“Yeosang,” you repeated. “One of my crew members. My best friend.”

Chenle hummed. “The one who worked with you at the bar?”

“Yeah. He’ll be here in about three weeks.”

“He’s visiting?”

“Sort of,” you murmured. “Taeyong said it would be better for someone I trust to be near when we…you know…”

Chenle’s entire body tensed. He stared at you in surprise before his expression turned cold.

“We’re not doing that,” he said curtly.

“Chenle–”

“I said no,” he declared going back to eating.

“I made up my mind,” you said.

“So did I.”

“I already told Taeyong.”

“Wha–” he choked on his own words, looking betrayed. “This is something that concerns both of us! You can’t– Damnit!”

“All we do is fight, hurt each other, and fuck, Chenle,” you sighed.

“So you decided to forget it all?! Forget you ever met me?”

You blinked your tears away. You didn’t want to forget Chenle, but you also couldn’t continue in a relationship like this.

Chenle mistook your silence for an answer and decided to end the conversation by standing up abruptly and leaving the apartment.

He came back at about 4 in the morning, trying not to make too much noise so he wouldn’t wake you up.

He mumbled a dry sorry when you sat up in bed to watch him enter the room.

“It’s fine,” you said tiredly. You hadn’t been able to sleep because you were worried something had happened to him. “Come to bed.”

He wasn’t in the mood to fight anymore, so he obeyed. He took a quick shower and put on something more comfortable before sliding into bed with you.

“I won’t stop you,” he croaked. His voice sounded like he had been crying.

“Hm?”

“I’ll sign the documents,” he explained. “Jisung told me not to do it…but I’m exhausted,” he sighed defeatedly. “Do whatever you think will make you happier.”

“We’ll both be happier,” you corrected him. “Thank you,” you added softly.

He didn’t reply so you closed your eyes, ready to finally fall asleep when he spoke up again.

“Jaemin’s gonna be a dad,” he blurted out.

“Jaemin? The healer?”

“Yeah…his mate’s pregnant. Well, she’s also Jeno’s mate, so maybe Jeno’s gonna be a dad. Not sure how that works. I think they’re both the dad…” he trailed off.

“They can’t both be the dad,” you said, frowning.

“Not biologically,” he shrugged, agreeing with you. “But they don’t seem to care about that.”

“Weird, but good for them, I guess,” you conceded.

“Taeyong hyung’s pup will be born soon too,” he rambled, and you swore you heard his voice crack. “I never cared much for kids, but–,” he paused.

You silently stared at him, noticing how he quickly wiped a tear away with his hand.

“I didn’t even know I wanted to be a dad…but when I met you I thought– I d-don’t know, I thought that maybe–” he broke down and sobbed, not being able to hide his sorrow anymore.

“Oh, Lele,” you called him the nickname that you rarely used, pulling him into a hug. He hugged you back tightly, crying into your chest loudly.

“W-why couldn’t we m-make it work?!” he lamented.

You kissed the top of his head, gently patting his back. “I’m sorry. You’ll have your own family one day, just–”

“Not with y-you?” he hiccuped.

“Yeah,” you whispered sadly and your voice cracked too. “...I’m so sorry.”

You both cried yourselves to sleep holding onto each other like you were afraid one of you would be gone in the morning. Because it was going to happen soon anyway.

There were no more fights after that night. But the reason may be that you weren’t talking to each other much anymore. Now that a decision had been made, you were both feeling…empty. Just waiting for the separation day to come.

It wasn’t until almost two weeks later that you fought again.

Chenle entered the room to see you restlessly looking for something. His eyes followed you as you opened each drawer again and again until he finally dared ask what the problem was.

“My necklace,” you replied quickly.

“Which one?”

“My favorite one!”

“The one with seashells? You wore it yesterday,” he reminded you.

“I know, but now I can’t find it,” you said, opening the nightstand drawer.

“You already looked there–”

“It has to be somewhere!” you said, irritated, trying to think of places you hadn’t searched yet when a dark thought crossed your mind. “Chenle. Did you throw it away?”

Chenle, who had opened his nightstand drawer to help you look for the lost item halted.

“...What?” he asked quietly.

“You said it covered your mark,” you accused him.

“You can’t be serious right now.”

“You hated how I always wore that one instead of the ones you gave me.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll throw your stuff away! What am I, a child?!” he asked, offended.

“Is this your way of getting revenge because I accepted Taeyong and Doyoung’s offer?” you insisted.

“Oh my god–I didn’t touch your ugly ass necklace!” he yelled exasperatedly.

“THEN WHERE IS IT?!”

“I DON’T KNOW! It’s not my fault you don’t take care of your stuff!”

You took a deep breath in. “Chenle,” you spoke more calmly. “If you have it, just please give it back. I won’t be mad–”

“I said I don’t have it!” he exclaimed. “Why do you always assume the worst of me?”

“What else am I supposed to think of the person who forced me into a relationship with him?” you spat pettily.

His eyes widened but he looked down before you could catch the sadness in them. In silence, he dragged his feet to get out of the room, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone.

You huffed angrily and continued looking for your precious necklace until exhaustion took over you and it became obvious that it wasn’t in the room. The warm water of the shower helped calm you down, and as your thoughts became more coherent you regretted the way you had talked to Chenle. He may be an ass sometimes, but you knew it was unlikely that he would purposely do something that hurt you. So you decided to apologize to him as soon as he came back.

But he didn’t.

You lost count of how many times you practiced the apology in your head, but your mate didn’t show up for you to say them out loud.

It was way past midnight and it was raining heavily outside. You started to worry, so you called him, but the faint vibration coming from the living room guided you to his forgotten phone on the sofa.

Now you were straight out panicking. He was out there in this weather, probably not thinking clearly after your fight, and with no way to contact him.

After a minute of hesitation, you grabbed a random hoodie and went to find him, but as soon as you opened the door you bumped face-to-face into him. His drenched clothes were sticking to his body and droplets of water slid down his face and neck. You noticed he was shivering slightly, but he took off his shoes and walked past you and into the bedroom without sparing you a glance before you could ask anything.

You only reacted when you heard the sound of the shower running. You walked into the bedroom too, nervously trying to remember the so-practiced apology to recite when he came out.

“Chenle I’m so–”

“The park,” he interrupted you curtly, again walking past you and sitting on the bed.

“What?” you mumbled, confused.

He pointed at your nightstand. “It was at the park.”

You looked at where he was pointed and saw your cherished necklace, completely wet but in perfect condition.

“Y-you…went to find my necklace?” you stuttered incredulously.

He ignored your question, getting into bed and lying on his side, turning his back to you.

“In this weather?” you continued your interrogation, still getting no answer from him. “Chenle, that park is huge!”

Still no reply.

You sighed, understanding that he was surely very hurt and needed some space. “Thanks…And sorry,” you whispered, getting into bed and accepting the silent treatment as a very deserved punishment as you tried to fall asleep.

But a couple of hours later you were woken up by a constant rowdy noise coming from Chenle’s side of the bed. As you slowly opened your eyes and got used to the darkness, you noticed that he was shivering.

“Chenle?” you whispered, reaching for his shoulder and shaking him softly. “Chenle what’s wrong?”

He didn’t reply, nor did he stop trembling, so you sat up and turned the light on, taking a closer look at him. His face was flushed and covered in sweat, his body was also sweaty and trembling and you finally registered that the constant noise was his teeth chattering.

You muttered a curse under your breath and hurried to get a wet cloth, placing it on his forehead and pulling the covers off his body. He whined, annoyed at the sudden coldness hitting him but he remained pliant, letting you take care of him. Thankfully you had some leftover medicine from a nasty cold you had gotten during your first month together. Chenle had nagged at you back then but he made sure to nurse you back into health, and now it was your turn.

When the medicine kicked in and his temperature started going down, you were able to make him sit up so you could get him out of his wet pajamas and put on a pair of clean, dry boxers. He groaned and half-complained the entire time but he let you do as you wanted.

He was kinda cute, with that faint blush on his cheeks and his lips forming a pout, while he mumbled incoherent words.

Not everything was incoherent though.

“I don’t want to forget…,” he whispered as you changed the wet cloth on his forehead.

Your movements halted for a second before you continued nursing him until he drifted back into sleep.

“I don’t want to forget you either,” you admitted. “I’ve questioned my decision many times in the last couple of weeks. I know we fight a lot but it’s not all bad…That night when you said you would sign the papers it felt like we were finally trying to understand each other and it got me thinking that if we opened up more often, maybe we could make it work…but then I ruined it again by accusing you of something you would never do. I’m so fucking sorry, Lele. I love you, I really do, but–” you paused when you noticed a faint smile forming on his lips.

“You’re not asleep,” you deadpanned.

He chuckled and opened one eye to look at you. “Go on, keep talking.”

“Looks like you’re feeling better,” you rolled your eyes, about to stand up but his warm hand grasped your wrist.

“It’s the first time you've said it,” he said with a weak voice, but somehow sounding relieved. “That you love me.”

You blushed and looked away. “Yeah, well. Hard to find a good time to say it when we’re always yelling at each other.”

“I love you too,” he said, as his thumb caressed your wrist. “I love you so, so much.”

“That doesn’t mean you should spend hours in the rain looking for something I lost,” you reprimanded him, with a sigh. “You hate that necklace anyway.”

“But you like it,” he said like it was so simple.

“Idiot,” you tried to sound like you were mad, but you didn’t look very intimidating with the tears that inevitably escaped your eyes. “You got sick because of me.”

“But now I got a sexy nurse taking care of me so I think I’m the real winner,” he joked, making you snort.

He sat up slowly, ignoring the cloth that fell off his forehead and his hands cupped your cheeks. “Sorry for worrying you,” he whispered.

“Sorry for blaming you,” you sniffled.

“Sorry for yelling at you.”

“Sorry for…the wedding thing. And all the other things I’ve done to embarrass you…”

“Sorry for forcing you to stay,” he finally said, looking into your eyes sincerely and with sorrow.

“Sorry for using you,” you sobbed, addressing your behavior before you became official.

His lower lip trembled and he pulled you into a hug. “Don’t forget me,” he begged. “Give us one more chance…”

You nodded, clinging to him and wetting his neck with your tears. “We can try.”

He slowly pulled away, holding you by your shoulders to look at your face. “Wait, really?” he asked hopefully.

You nodded again.

Chenle was about to speak again when he noticed something he hadn’t seen before. His eyes went from your face to your body. “Is that my hoodie?” he asked.

Oh.

You had hastily put on whatever hoodie you found on top of your pajamas when you had tried to go out to find him, and then you had absentmindedly gone to bed without taking it off.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, blushing and trying to take it off.

“NO!”, he quickly said, grabbing your hands to stop you. “No, god–...keep it on…,” he murmured, wondering if he was dreaming. You had said you loved him, agreed to give the relationship another chance and you were wearing his clothes? This had to be the… “Best day of my fucking life.”

You blushed even more and tried to stutter an answer, but his lips were suddenly on yours, and, fuck it, nothing else mattered. His lips were hot and wet as he pressed them on yours for a slow but heated kiss that became nasty too fast. You were both so lost in the feeling that you didn’t have it in you to even feel embarrassed at the string of saliva that connected your mouth to his when he pulled away, looking dazed.

In the blink of an eye, he was kissing your neck wantonly. That’s when you remembered that he was sick.

“Lele, we can’t,” you tried to be firm but it came out as a moan. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” he assured you, weakly trying to pull your body closer but whining when his strength failed him.

“Lele,” you insisted. “When you feel better, okay?”

He groaned. “This will make me feel better. Please, you can’t wear my hoodie and not expect me to get super hard.”

You looked down and gulped. He was indeed hard and leaking through the thin material of his boxers.

He once again tried to bring you closer but he was weak and agitated, but he felt like he could cry because of how badly he needed you. “Please,” he repeated.

You pushed him back so he was lying on his back again and he whined pathetically at what he thought was a rejection, but that whine turned into a shaky moan when you straddled him and sat on his crotch. A shiver ran down his spine and his cock twitched under you. He looked at you with wide expectant eyes, which rolled back in bliss when you rocked back and forth slowly.

“F-fuuuuck,” he sobbed, placing his hands on your thighs. “I love you, I love you–Oh!”

You bit back a whimper. You had never seen Chenle this needy and it was doing things to you.

“I love you too,” you replied and he moaned. Like it was the nastiest dirty talk he had ever heard.

“Wanna…b-be inside you…,” he whispered, looking desperate. “Please.”

You kissed him on the lips sweetly before getting off him to take off his boxers and your clothes. He let out a distressed sound when you tried to take off the hoodie once again and you understood that he wanted to fuck you while you wore his clothes.

You slowly lowered your body and felt him entering you, stretching you delightfully. He trembled and groaned, lying down pliantly, and letting you be in charge. The fever was making his body incredibly responsive to your every touch, everything felt too hot, and the fact that he also felt incredibly happy was making his cock jerk excitedly.

“Stop,” he suddenly gasped and you froze, thinking that this had been a bad idea after all, but he quickly explained what the problem was. “I’m so close I–...I d-don’t know why I’m so sensitive, but I…,” he gulped. “If you d-don’t stop I’ll…uh…inside–”

You bounced on his cock unexpectedly, making him release a broken moan.

“Then do it,” you said. “Cum inside.”

His mouth dropped open and his stomach spasmed. He quite literally forced himself not to come at your words.

He had only come inside of you months ago when he mated and marked you. You had gone to get the morning-after pill right after and you had had quite a big argument about how it would be a terrible idea to have a child in your toxic relationship. His wolf instinct wasn’t happy about it, but he had agreed not to cum inside of you again and he had kept his promise, always pulling out before you two made the mistake of making an innocent baby miserable.

“Y/N,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “Are you sure?”

You resumed your pace, fucking yourself on his cock slow but sensually, and making him tremble with pleasure.

“I’m sure,” you purred.

“Y-you…Mmh–ah…,” he moaned weakly, watching you fuck yourself on his cock with lidded eyes. “Could get p-pregnant–”

“Fill me up, daddy, please,” you moaned.

Chenle saw white. His eyes rolled back and his mouth hung open in a silent scream as he shot a gush of his seed into you…and then another, as the endless pleasure made him shake from head to toe and sob.

If he was sensitive before, now he was in heaven. The implications of your words were very clear: you were staying with him.

He breathed agitatedly as he tried to come down from his high, which seemed to never end. Weirdly so, he felt like the room was getting hotter and hotter, and he was still very hard.

Oh. Oh right. It was that time already.

“Y/N,” he called your name, with his voice still trembling.

“Yeah?” you asked, caressing his chest and looking at him lovingly, satisfied despite not reaching your orgasm.

“Y/N, my rut,” he breathed out.

“Your–,” you gasped when you finally noticed that he was still hard–maybe even harder– inside of you. “Now?!”

You don’t know how he suddenly gained all his strength back, but you didn’t have time to question it when he suddenly had you on your back with him hovering over you.

“Now,” he confirmed, giving you a hard thrust that made you both moan.

He built up a steady pace immediately. He had your permission to breed you so he was going to do just that. As many times as possible.

The sight of you on your back, wearing his clothes and opening your legs so willingly for him to fill you up, looking at him with so much love was driving him crazy. It felt so different this time. It would be different.

“I love you,” he moaned urgently.

“I…uh, lo-ah, ah!” you tried to say between his sharp thrusts. “Love…y-you–ah, ah–Ah!”

“My p-pretty princess,” he murmured, mesmerized. He squeezed your clothed breasts, your waist, your soft thighs. “Want daddy to breed you?”

“Y-yeah,” you moaned, pulling the hoodie up a little, only enough to show him how deep he was hitting. “Daddy, here–”

A choked moan left his lips when he saw the outline of his cock appear and disappear in your belly.

“Of course, princess. Daddy will fill you up right…” he murmured, pulling out until only the tip was inside and grabbing onto your hips before he rammed into you harder than ever before. “...here.”

You tossed and turned aimlessly under him when he started pounding mercilessly. He fucked you desperately but somehow you felt so adored under his loving eyes.

Feeling your climax approach, you used one of your hands to reach for your clit, but he was faster than you.

“No, no, no, princess,” he cooed gently pushing your hand away to do it himself. “That’s daddy’s toy, okay?”

You nodded dumbly and whined when he stroked you fast from the get-go. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you ended up groping your chest clumsily, adding to the already unbearable pleasure.

“Mmm,” he hummed in delight feeling a stronger release about to hit as he watched you being so fucked out because of him. “You love this,” he declared, amusedly. “You love me…”

You suddenly tensed and your back arched, hit by a mind-blowing orgasm that had you squirming helplessly. “Oooh….oh, fuck fuck fuck—daddy…daddy, I love y-you—”

He groaned at the way you tightened around his already sensitive cock. His movements became even more relentless as he fucked you further into madness. “Daddy loves you t-too, princess…,” he spoke hurriedly. “Loves you s-so much–gonna….gonna pump you full–Haa…so full o-of pups,” he continued reciting delirious promises as his knot started forming, catching inside of you. “Shit– Y/N…y-you’re my mate, y-yeah? You’re staying…Mmmh oh, oh yeeess… you’re staying with me, right?”

“I’m–,” you gulped, dazed, still pleasure drunk. “I’m stay…staying w-with you…”

Chenle’s chest filled with pride and adoration. He was going to be the best mate for you. You would be so happy together.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck and he bit you, again, before he could stop himself. But this mark was different. It felt real.

Because you loved him back.

You whined at the pleasurable pain of his fangs piercing your skin, and his cock pumping you full of his cum at the same time. His body spasmed for each gush of cum that jerked out of him, but even the overwhelming pleasure didn’t stop him from whispering the sweetest promises.

Sex with Chenle usually started with a fight. But sometimes it could start–and end–with a love confession.

#nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #chenle #chenle nct #chenle scenarios #chenle smut #chenle x reader

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softer-rounder-larger-heavier · 19 days

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✨Your new future✨

You wake up from the light streaming in through the window. Already, you are hungry. You start to move a bit, trying to shift to get yourself something but your heavy frame keeps you locked in place. The effort leaves you winded, and you let out a loud groan.

“Good morning, I made you breakfast!” It’s my voice. You turn your head, the fat on your neck limiting you as you lock eyes first with me, then focus in on the large cart I’m wheeling towards your bed. Immediately you start to drool, stomach growling as you can feel your groin heating up at the mere sight of what to many would be a multi-person banquet. But to you, it’s simply a meal.

“Would you like me to feed it to you?” I ask, helping you sit up. Your whole body quivers and convulses at the slight movement, and you bite back a moan as you once again feel your sheer heft.

“N… no, I want to do it myself.” You mutter, unsure. I simply nod, unloading the trays from the cart in front of you and wheeling it away. I would be back soon, as always, but you couldn’t wait. You were hungry now.

You start on the first tray with gusto, stuffing syrupy pancake after pancake down your gluttonous maw. Butter and sauce drip down your chin as you start devouring the food like a starving person, but clearly from your appearance you’re anything but. No, it’s clear that years of overindulgence, laziness and sheer obsession with growing fatter has turned you into something else. A human pig.

You’re nearly done with the first tray when I come in, smirking as you hardly notice as you continue devouring your morning feast. I can see your flabby hips twitching as you attempt to grind against your own stomach, the pale sliver of flesh peeking out of your 5XL nightshirt growing in size as you stuff yourself greedily. You’re starting the next when I come along beside you, snuggling up to your fat side and beginning to massage your soft stomach.

“Good piggy…” I coo, the sound of my voice breaking through your stupor only enough for you to pick up your pathetic humping, needy and desperate for more. But we both know the arrangement, not until you’ve finished breakfast. “So good for me.”

By the time you hit the third and final tray you’re struggling, still committed but clearly stretched and breathing heavily. Pressing my hands deep into your flabby belly reveals resistance, a hard swollen lump from how much you’ve stuffed inside yourself. But still you keep going, forcing your way through each bite like it was the most important thing in the world… which in your case, it was.

Finally you finish, your tongue licking at the plate to lap up the last precious calories you can pack inside yourself. Your stomach is bulging out further than ever before, your shallow breaths punctuated by needy gasps as you uselessly try to reach a pudgy digit beneath yourself, only to be utterly denied by your sheer size. I chuckle at the whine you let out, shushing you and putting both my hands on your stomach to massage out a series of wet burps, each one seeming to make you more and more worked up.

“What a good piggy you are.” I grin, legs shut tight as I resist the urge to jump you then and there. “But we’re not quite done yet. You still need something to drink, after all.”

Your unfocused eyes look up at me with confusion and a bit of uncertainty. You’re so full… but then I pinch your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud in my fingers until you’re twitching and desperate. You need to get off, even if it means being filled to the absolute brim.

I leave and return with a funnel and a gallon jug. It’s your favorite brand of chocolate milk, one you used to only have a glass of on occasion. That time feels so far away from you now, as you’d need at least a pint to feel satisfied in any degree. Your stomach lurches and protests angrily as I put the funnel to your lips, but a gentle coaxing touch to your stomach has you opening wide, allowing me to insert it.

“Good piggy.” I praise you, holding the funnel and grabbing the jug before tiling the opening. The milk is smooth, creamy and delicious, actually quite refreshing after so much heavy carbs and grease. But you’re already so full, so it isn’t long before you start squirming with discomfort and arousal.

Fuck, being fed far beyond your capacity like this felt so good. Your stuttering breaths between breaks had me questioning if you wanted to continue, but you were resolute. You wanted, needed to finish everything. Eating was your addiction, your obsession, your reason to be. You needed to be bigger.

Finally the milk, too, was finished. I pulled the funnel from your mouth, immediately going to massaging your now thinly stretched tummy. You were struggling to breathe under the weight of all that food and milk, and I could hear the angry noises of your stomach struggling to deal with the constant abuse thrown towards it.

“Good piggy. You’re a good piggy, you know that?” I soothed you, giggling when you tried to respond but all that came out was a long moan and a hiccup instead. “Shhh. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” I went to our nightstand, pulling out a wand and hooking it up to the nearby outlet. It was time for your reward.

“You’re so good for me, piggy…” I said, my voice low as I gently maneuvered the wand under your stomach to press against you. Immediately you jerked, trying desperately to generate friction as you made sounds similar to an actual hog. I groaned, the squelching indicating that you were already soaking wet. “So big and fat and useless. A total waste of space just looking to get fatter and fatter.”

You groaned, tears of need and mild pain forming in your eyes as the degradation increased your arousal further. Your desperation was something else, and it made me want to go further.

“Tell me, piggy.” I started, my voice low as I climbed onto the bed, my smaller frame leering over yours as I ground the deactivated wand against you. “What are you willing to do to get me to turn this on?”

“A-anything, anything!” You moaned, hips jerking uselessly as your flab jiggled and your stuffed stomach heaved. “I’ll, I’ll do anything you want. I’ll e-eat, get bigger… get as fat as you want, just please…”

“Please what, piggy?”

You twitched your hips again, voice high and whiny as you begged. “Please fuck me, master.”

I nodded. “As you wish, piggy.” I flipped the wand on, the vibrations making my arm jitter as the feeling of the toy instantly causes you to groan in sheer pleasure.

“Y-yes, m-more! More!” You moan, eyes blown wide and your mouth agape as you struggle for air. This feeling, being stuck in bed with hundreds of pounds of lard weighing you down, a painfully full stomach and me dominating you has your mind completely blank of anything other than the intense need to grow and cum. I move the wand slightly but it’s hardly necessary, as your release comes hard and fast and your whole body shakes as you orgasm harder than you ever remember before.

I carefully remove the wand, watching as your breathing slows and your flabby belly jiggles from each inhale. The effort has left you sweaty and flushed, your shirt fully ridden up to your massive, sagging tits. You were so perfect like this to me, fattened and fucked and your brain empty of anything but the desire to continue being my good pig.

I let you drift off, listening to the soft sounds of your snores as I diligently cleaned you as well as I could, taking the trays. You would need a full shower later, but for now this would do. By the time I returned you were fully asleep now, a faint smile on your lips as you dreamt about your wonderful new life. A life as my pig.

“Sleep well, my love…” I said softly, caressing your belly. “I’ll see you again at lunch.”

#queer feedism #belly k!nk #feeding kink #feedisn #wg text #feedism.#gaining weight on purpose #nb feeder #feeding you fatter #feedee encouragement #pig play #fat piggy #feedee piggy #immobility #technically #feedist fiction #just uh. A short little something that I didn’t expect to get so out of hand whoops #Anyway thanks for reading??#degradation kink

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authorred · 6 days

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Die With A Smile | Li Shen/Zayne x gn!Reader | Love and Deepspace

➺ Preface: After a particularly bad run-in with a wanderer, you're left essentially dying on site. You know this will not bode over well for a certain doctor-friend of yours, so you force yourself up and onwards. Both you and Zayne have to reconcile the fact that you almost died without seeing each other for almost a month.

➺ I know I already posted a song-fic for this song but goddammit I keep seeing edits for this shit on my fyp and I love this song so mf much that I can't myself ( I also have an unhealthy obsession with Zayne ).

Maybe I'll do a Sylus version??? However the hell I'll do that.

→ Song

Warning(s): Mentions of extensive wounds, blood

Oh god, Zayne is going to kill me.

Your skin is warm and sticky; a disconcerting feeling. What remains of your clothes is glued to your skin in blood and sweat, most of it yours. You don't know why, but for some reason, Wanderers love to dick with you as if you're a hot commodity. You were just trying to do your job as a Deepspace Hunter, which you succeeded at technically, but, now your injuries are catching up to you.

You're starting to feel lightheaded and stumbling on your feet. You don't know if you've broken any bones, but all you know is that every part of your body hurts and trying to blink takes all of your energy.

Goddammit, if Zayne sees me he's going to be so mad. Or sad. Or both. I didn't even text him today--I should've texted him.

You stumble from the remains of where the protocore field emerged. You can feel the warmth of your blood spilling down your leg and flooding your boots. It’s an absolutely unnerving sensation. You have to find a way to the hospital. You need to get help. You can’t die. Not like this. Not before you see Zayne.

You were going to kill him. No, not kill, perhaps that’s too far. But you were going to scold him, chastise him like a worried mother. Zayne has been pushing himself again, not taking breaks or sleeping for more than five hours. He’s been using the on-call rooms in Akso or sleeping in his office. He doesn’t know why he does this. Perhaps he’s stressed because you haven’t texted him in several days and he’s unknowing to your severe injuries. It’s a way to cope. Because if he didn’t, he’d go mad.

So why.

Why?

Why is he staring at several paramedics rolling you into the hospital, covered in blood and unconscious? Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Being reckless? Risking your life? Again?

He stands there, rooted to the linoleum, watching you be rolled into the OR for emergency surgery. He doesn’t know what’s wrong—eyeballing it he could tell you’re suffering from many lacerations. But what if there’s more? What if your heart is giving out?

It’s not until the hospital begins to settle again that he’s able to move. Swallowing thickly and moving like a ghost back to where he’s needed.

Hours pass—two hours, specifically. Zayne stands in your hospital room staring at your sleeping figure. Covered in bandages and bruises alike, his eyes are filled with trepidation belying fear and concern. The pain you must’ve went through to trek all the way to Akso Hospital—the amount of blood you lost. Too stubborn for your own good. He can’t linger, he has other duties to attend to. But he wants to—gods, he wants to.

Stepping up to the side of your bed, his hand reaches out. His fingertips brush against the palm of your hand, gently trailing them up your wrist and arm. Featherlight touches to prove you’re here, alive, breathing. His virescent eyes comb up and down your body. “How reckless,” he whispers. “And here I thought you were simply lost with no reception.”

No response, as he expected.

With a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, Zayne retracts his hand and places it back in his coat pocket. With one last lingering look, he turns and walks away from your hospital bed. He has work to finish, and you’re stabilized and alive. At least he’s assured in that regard. He can go on with the rest of his day without that aching, gnawing anxiety in his chest. It’s a relief, really.

When you wake up, you have no idea where you are at first. You’re completely disoriented and lost. You vaguely remember trying to navigate your way through a town on the outskirts of Linkon, and then after that, the memories are fuzzy.

You look to your side, your vision severely blurred. You can see a person sitting in the chair next to your bed, resting. You recognize the shape of their body immediately. “Zayne?” Comes your hoarse, weak voice. Even that’s enough to rouse him from his sleep—or maybe he wasn’t even fully asleep in the first place.

Zayne sits up straight when he sees you’re awake before standing. “Y/n,” he says, almost in surprise. “You’re awake. With the amount of sedatives in your body, you should still be asleep.”

“I can’t move my body,” you chuckle softly, but it sounds like a sad whimper instead. “Maybe that’s where they went. . .”

Zayne sighs at your attempt of jokes in your state. “Should I ask what happened this time?”

“I think you know.”

Zayne gazes down at you, his eyes slightly narrowed in worry. “You’re too reckless. Please, put some value on your life before we’re unable to fix you.”

“I know,” you reply softly. “But you don’t seem the best either. I can still see those dark circles even through my fucked up vision. You’ve been overworking again, haven’t you?”

Zayne shifts like a kid getting caught before looking away, “I take naps during the day so I can be productive at night. And I’ve been eating well and hydrating. Truly, it’s not that bad.”

“Those dark circles say otherwise.”

A moment passes before Zayne looks at you again. “You were too close this time,” he says. “Your life was in a precarious position. You’re lucky we had the personnel available.”

“I know,” you repeat. “I know. I—I’ll be honest, I didn’t think. . . I didn’t think I’d make it.”

Zayne’s expression drops suddenly, but he lets you talk.

“All I remember thinking is that I needed to get to a hospital, to get help, because if I didn’t, I’d regret it. Regret not texting you, seeing you. I wanted to see you one more time, at least.”

Zayne’s face twitches, and he resists the urge to reach out and touch you. You need space. Your body needs time to heal. “I see,” he replies softly. “Is that what gave you strength to crawl to the doors of the hospital?”

“Yes,” you nod softly. “At least, if I died here, I’d be near you. And that’s enough for me.”

Zayne doesn’t say anything immediately. “I would be. . . in pain if you died,” he says quietly, doing best to articulate his feelings without coming off as too much. “I would miss you greatly. Agonizingly.”

“Tomorrow is never promised,” you say, gazing at him with such affection and favor he feels lightheaded from holding your gaze. “But if I die—if I die next to you, with you. . . I wouldn’t change a thing. I would die happy and content. Knowing you’re there.”

Zayne swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down under his black dress shirt. “I believe it would be best if we promised each other. . . to not push ourselves too far.”

You chuckle softly, “Maybe. But whatever the case, I’m just happy you’re here.”

You add, “And when the day comes I do die, I’ll gladly die with a smile if you’re with me.”

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qierxing · 1 year

Text

A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly.

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?"

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back.

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far."

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?"

Another question out of left field.

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke.

"Yeah…" they murmur back.

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual.

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that.

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while.

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things!

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone.

Ace tried two more times to meet you.

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter.

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough.

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now.

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly.

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First].

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu.

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face.

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for?

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon.

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations.

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in.

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out.

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation.

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance.

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes.

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–"

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander.

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts.

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in.

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.”

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally."

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement.

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash.

"Cater."

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen.

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair.

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.”

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt.

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough.

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him.

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards.

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?"

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him.

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors.

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved.

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day.

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard.

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges.

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down.

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants.

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him.

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute.

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate.

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes.

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily.

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other.

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air.

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.”

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear.

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back.

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.”

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary.

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago.

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you.

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says.

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.”

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed.

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak.

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam.

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone.

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking.

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #my works #damn this is the most ive ever written.....insane

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barleyo · 1 year

Text

Love Machine. (Part Two)

Android! Leon Kennedy X Fem! Reader

A/N: Sorry for the wait! It took me a while to brainstorm ideas for this. Plus, I’ve been super busy lately! However, I have been trying to keep myself out of another hiatus, so, here I am with another fic! Hope you all enjoy, I love you all a whole bunch :)

Wordcount: 1.6K

Tags: Oral (m receiving), face fucking, rough sex, p in v, spit play, hair pulling, sex doll/android, slight degradation, kinda some objectification (?)

Leon became a permanent fixture in (Y/N)’s sex life. She had practically disregarded every other toy she had; none of the cute, little vibrators in her top drawer could do the job for her anymore. She needed something real– well, sort of real.

The longer she owned him, the more attached she got to him, and the less ashamed she became of having him in her possession. She even started to see him as more of a boyfriend, going as far as to keep him almost always on, allowing him to walk around her home freely.

“Can I? I mean, I don’t know if it’ll do anything for you, but….” (Y/N) was already on her knees, sitting right between Leon’s legs while he sat on the plush couch’s cushion.

“Everything you do does something for me,” he quickly interrupted, running his hand over the cold metal of his belt buckle, a shining addition to the pants she had found for him soon after bringing him home. “Everything.”

Her hands flew up to replace his own. Using the pad of her thumb, she forked the belt open and unzipped his pants. His cock was already stiff and unconstrained, with no boxers to cover the length.

“Ah,” her lips parted slightly at the sight and her tongue darted out quickly to wet them.

Leon wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it lazy strokes, watching as her eyes focused on the leaking head. “Hm? Look, it’s ready for you,” he said, a huff escaping his nose as he held back a chuckle.

She tried to lean forward to place a lick over the top, but he stopped her. His hand gripped her hair gently and forced her to look up at him.

“Hey, I’ll guide you, yeah?”

(Y/N) nodded and felt him loosen his grip, but still keep her in place with his hand. Taking the other hand, he smeared the head of his cock over her lips, coating them in a thin sheen of his pre. Her tongue slipped out again, tasting the glossy saltiness, and keeping her tongue out for him.

“Oh, that’s cute, baby. Keep that tongue out for me.”

Leon tapped his heavy tip on her tongue, smiling inwardly at how she tried to curve her tongue to coerce the full length into her mouth. He complied and pushed her head down quickly. Her throat constricted around his cock for a moment before she adjusted.

She looked at him through her eyelashes as her spit started to dribble down his length and down her chin. Her jaw already ached at how wide her mouth had been split to fit him, but she powered through, eyebrows drawing together and eyes pricking with tears. Pressing her head down one more time before letting her go, he groaned at the tight, warm, wet fluttering of her throat, desperate for air.

“Christ, Leon,” she said with a choked gasp, “didn’t know it’d be that rough.”

“Rough? (Y/N), you don’t even know what rough feels like, you big baby,” Leon said with a dry laugh, clearly trying to get a reaction out of her.

“Yes, I do, and that was it.” She rose up and sat over one of his thighs, wrapping her arms over his shoulders and wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Couldn’t even breathe.”

“Well, if you really wanna have the air knocked outta you,” he teased, slightly moving his head and turning to show his dial the best he could.

“Oh, hell no, you already wear me out enough as it is, Leon.”

“Aw, c’mon, I bet you’ll like it, if you try it.” He tilted his head to the side and offered her the dial again.

(Y/N) pursed her lips for a second while she thought and hovered her fingers over the dial. “Okay, but you have to at least try to be easy with me.” She bit the bullet and switched the dial to rough mode.

“No promises.”

Leon’s eyes blanked out for a split second, and a red light flashed out from them as he rebooted. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and he only acted when she tried to call out to him.

“Leon–?”

“Been too easy on you, baby.” He pushed her off of his lap and onto the couch, trapping her under his weight. “You getting soft on me? Can’t handle it when ‘m a lil mean?”

“N–no, Leon,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes averted from his. His gaze felt stronger now, she could feel him piercing through her with every look.

“Don’t lie to me. You can’t even look me in my eyes, can you? Hey,” he called, gripping her chin and making him look at him again. “Look at me when I talk to you, you know better, hon.”

She tried to respond, but she couldn’t force herself to. Her mouth and eyes went dry. Leon sighed, his breath short and warm as he pulled her body down to the other end of the couch.

“If you won’t talk, I’ll use your mouth ‘til you have somethin’ to say.” He hovered over her face with his thighs on either side of her head. Without any hesitation, Leon bottomed out in her throat, feeling the back of it. It was smooth and warm against his shaft, and the squeezing of (Y/N)’s choked gurgling only prompted him to fuck it harder. “Oh,” he chuckled darkly, “there, sweet girl. Got such a nice mouth, feels so good wrapped around me. Could use you like this forever.”

She reached up and grabbed onto the thick muscle of one of his thighs, bracing herself for his pace. He pulled out after a moment, moving down so that he had her trapped still, legs caging around her hips. She whined and coughed a bit, grimacing at Leon’s smirking face.

“All that cryin’ n’ moaning needs to stop, baby. Are y’ready to be a big, tough girl f’me?”

(Y/N)’s voice was croaking and wheezy as she spoke. “Yes, I can do it– can be good for you,” she said.

“Good.” Leon was already pulling her pants off of her, tossing them far over his shoulder. He placed her legs over his waist and slotted himself between them. He let his thumb trail over her clit, just barely touching it. His other hand gripped and held her hips down while she tried to inch them up into his whispering touches. “No, stop all that. I’ll give you what I think you need.” He added a bit more pressure, enough to have the full pad of his thumb pressed against the little bud.

“Please, I need more. Can you fuck me, please?” She impatiently wrapped her legs closely around him, forcing his hand away from her cunt, but pressing his cock right against it.

“You’re so needy, baby,” he cooed, giving into her and rutting his tip through her slick. “How bad do you want it, huh? How bad?”

“S–so bad, fuck, c’mon, don’t tease me.”

He pressed his lips against hers roughly, gnashing their teeth together and slipping his tongue over hers. There was no softness in the exchange, only rough, red-hot pleasure. Leon finally pushed inside of her. She gasped at the intrusion, despite her begging, the feeling of him pushing into her cunt was unexpected. He fucked into her mouth with his tongue while he started to burry himself deep inside of her.

Pulling away from the kiss, Leon was slowly pulling in and out of (Y/N)’s pussy, observing how her face contorted. “Open, (Y/N).”

Her eyebrows were furrowed a bit, a reaction to the sudden sharp thrust from him. She parted her lips and let a moan bubble in her chest when she felt his spit hit her tongue.

“Swallow. Swallow, dirty girl,” he urged, eyes glued to her mouth as he watched her hold it in her mouth greedily. She swallowed it and opened her mouth again to him, showing him the proof. “Good girl, you listen to me so well when you want to,” he said, caressing her face softly.

She nodded and bit down on her bottom lip. A soft, content sigh left her. Leon was being relatively gentle with her, until he felt a sharp squeeze from her walls.

“How’re you already close? I haven’t hardly done anything to you,” Leon said, trailing his hands down to her waist. He held onto her sides, hard enough to bruise later, and moved her body down on his cock, sliding her up and down like a toy. “If you’re gonna cum, you might as well cum nice n’ hard, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, and instead scooped her into his arms briefly while he laid on his back. She sat, straddling him, waiting for him to move her body. She took possession of his shoulder, digging her nails into the skin while he brought her hips up and down, bringing her to the very tip of his cock, and slamming her back to the base with brutal strokes.

She couldn’t last very long, soon throwing her head over his shoulder and gripping his blonde hair in her fingers, pulling at his scalp tightly with a deep, guttural moan. Thin globs of her arousal dripped down his cock and onto the couch, leaving wet spots over the fabric.

“Oh, that was a good one,” he said, feeling his cock kick in her, prodding at her g-spot and overstimulating her. He shifted his hips upward in a ruthless strike against her tender, abused pussy.

“Fuck, Leon, too much,” she mewled, leaning back to look at him again. Her face was flushed and sweaty, eyes heavy and lidded from her orgasm.

“No such thing,” he said, pushing her down on the couch again, holding her weak arms above her head and rutting into her. “This time, I wanna see your cute lil’ face when you cum. Can you do that for me? Hm, baby?”

#barleyxnighteye #fanfiction #smut #smutfic #x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil #re2 leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon scott kennedy #alternate universe #fanfic

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togrowoldinv · 1 year

Text

The Truth

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha is forced to go on a mission with you, you’re surprised by her behavior

Note: Brief mentions of violence, mostly yearning and fluff. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

Your relationship with Natasha Romanoff is what you would consider strained. When you joined the team, you felt like she immediately closed herself off from you. It upset you, seeing as she was the only other woman on the team.

But you tried not to take it personally. She’s the Black Widow. She doesn’t make friends. Or at least that’s the perception of her, but you thought maybe it would be different with you.

For a while, you tried to ask her to spend time together. Whether it was watching movies or playing games, Nat never accepted your invitations. Eventually you stopped asking all together.

So, today when you were told you’re going on a mission together you weren’t the least bit excited about it. A day and maybe night alone with Natasha wasn’t on your agenda.

But duty calls, so you got dressed and met Nat at her car. She drove you to the safe house where you were to spend the evening after the mission. That is if the stakeout ever ends.

Now, you sit next to Natasha on a stakeout. She keeps her head on a swivel, but she avoids your gaze. It’s getting late.

“I can take first watch,” you say, standing up and looking around the perimeter again.

“No. You sleep,” Nat says.

“Natasha, please. Just let me take first watch.”

Natasha shakes her head. She stands to face you fully.

“I’m the best suited to stay up,” Nat says matter of factly. “Go to sleep, y/n. Don’t fight me on this.”

“Fine,” you grumble.

You find a decent spot to lay down and sleep for a while. Before you know it, hours have passed. Natasha is in the same spot when you wake up.

“Did I miss anything?” You ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You glance at the watch on your wrist. “Nat, why did you let me sleep for 3 hours? We agreed one hour breaks.”

Natasha just shrugs. She keeps looking ahead.

“Your turn to sleep,” you say.

“I’m good,” Nat says.

You sigh and look her over. She seems normal but you can tell she’s tired.

“Whatever,” you brush it off.

Another few hours pass and Nat is still refusing to lay down, even when she feels herself drifting off to sleep while sitting up.

“Natasha, why won’t you just sleep?” You ask her. “Do you not trust me to keep watch?”

“It’s not like that,” Nat says.

“Then why? Because I can see how much you’re fighting sleep.”

Natasha shakes her head. She runs her hand over her face. You can see her breathe deeply.

“I’m just making sure you’re safe,” Nat admits.

“Do you not think I’m capable of protecting myself?” You ask her. Your words come out louder than they should.

“I’m more capable of protecting you,” is all she offers.

You feel yourself get angrier at her words. Of course you know she’s better than you, but you don’t want to admit that. And why does she care in the first place if she feels so indifferent about you?

“I don’t need you to protect me,” you say. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. And I can protect you in the process.”

“I know that,” Natasha says. “But I just-“

“What? Natasha, since I’ve met you you’ve wanted nothing to do with me! You go out of your way not to be around me. So don’t give me some bullshit about how you want to protect me when you don’t even like me!” You yell at her.

Next thing you know, Nat is moving forward and covering your mouth with her hand. You try to pull away, but she keeps a grip on you. She only nods in the direction of what you now see is the target.

Nat removes her hand from your face and leads the way around the corner to see more of the target. It’s an arms deal.

“I’m going to get closer. Watch my six,” Nat says.

You watch her back as she approaches the target. There’s no indication that they realize you’re there. Not until they see your shadow from behind a wall.

Natasha notices the men rushing towards where she had left you. She loses eyes on the target as she runs to defend you. She takes down five men, but not before one gets a shot at her.

A shot that was meant to hit you, but Natasha covered your body with hers.

“Nat! Hey, stay with me!” You shout at her as she lays on the ground. Her abdomen is bleeding profusely.

You try to stabilize the wound, but it doesn’t do much. Pulling her to a slightly safer spot, you call for help on comms.

“Natasha, you’re okay,” you say. She’s barely conscious.

“You have to get out of here,” Nat says. Her voice is barely there.

“No, I’m not leaving you,” you argue.

“Y/n,” she says. She reaches for your hand. You grip hers tightly. “Let me go. Save yourself.”

“No, Natasha,” you say firmly. “I’m staying with you.”

You can hear the people getting closer to you two, but you try not to think about it. There’s no way you can move her around and keep her alive. Your only choice is to fight.

“I can do this, Nat. I’ll protect you,” you say as you stand and face the door.

The men come in full force, but you shoot them down one by one.

“Nice job,” Natasha says once they’re all down. You kneel next to her again.

“Stay with me, Nat,” you say.

“Do you want to know why I wanted to protect you?” She asks. You nod. She coughs and blood seeps from her lips. “Because I love you.”

You’re too stunned to immediately reply. Natasha’s eyes close as she finally loses consciousness from the pain and bleeding.

Help eventually arrives but not before you take down more men all while trying to keep Nat alive.

It’s a whole day later when Natasha wakes up after surgery. You’re sitting by her bedside when her eyes open.

“Y/n?” She asks.

“Right here, Natasha.”

“You’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” you assure her.

She breathes out a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a friend to you,” she says. “Or even a good teammate.”

“Don’t worry about it. I understand you were scared to get close to me. It’s okay,” you say. “You made up for it by taking a bullet for me.”

Natasha chuckles a little at that. She does feel like she had made up for it a little bit.

“Nat,” you begin. “What you said before you passed out, is it true?”

“It’s complicated,” Nat answers.

You look away from her, swallowing your hurt. You wanted it to be an immediate yes from her.

Natasha speaks again, “But I think it could be true. Once I get my head out of my ass and let you in.”

You look back to her and she’s wearing a soft smile. She reaches for your hand.

“I think it could be true too,” you say. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Anytime y/n,” Natasha replies.

You two sit together for a while as she recovers. And once she’s ready to go back to her floor, you sleep on her couch until she’s 100% healed.

And you do find love together. Forever and ever.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort

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blkdaddie · 4 months

Text

Empregnas University: Code Gold

I shifted in my seat as Professor Roca droned on. As a second-year law student class, it's important to have good notes but my concentration is shot today. The baby has been sitting low in my pelvis for a week with no signs of labor. At least I can breathe a bit better but a 10 lb baby plus sitting for hours is murder on my back. I feel the now familiar urge to pee, and ease my heft to my feet. Prof. Roca doesn’t miss a beat of his lecture – with almost 40% of our student body pregnant at any time they’re pretty easygoing about bathroom trips during class. I take a few shuffling steps, knowing my waddle has become exaggerated with this bowling ball of a kid between my hips, when I feel a sudden wetness. I try to waddle faster mortified that I’ve wet myself, when a contraction seizes me and I double over with a grunt. “Holy shit, Derek’s finally having his kid!”. If I weren’t in so much pain I would laugh; I realize the wetness is at my rear – my waters have broken.

Prof. Roca finally pauses his speech on the intersection of artificial intelligence and ethics, turning his attention to me with a sigh. “I really thought we’d get through one semester without a labor starting in class. Damn nuisance, these kids.” I don’t know if he’s referring to me or the baby, but I’m too panicked to care. This baby feels like a boulder between my hips and I sink to my knees aided by a classmate, Anthony. I distractedly notice he has a slight belly, and he’s clearly freaking out, probably imagining his own labor. I’m too breathless to reassure him.

Prof. Roca crosses to an old-school landline phone on the wall and I understand why it’s still there when he picks up the receiver. “Code Gold, Memorial Hall Room 242. And send janitorial, he’s leaking all over the place.”

The pressure is immense. I feel like I’m floating outside of my body as I watch my belly warp from the force of my muscles all moving the baby down. “Derrick, just sit tight for a minute, health center is sending someone with a wheelchair. Now, where were we…” Professor prepares to continue his lesson but I can’t bite back the pained cry that escapes my lips. I have an overwhelming need to push, and start scrambling for the waistband of my jeans. “Um, professor, I don’t think he has a minute!” Anthony awkwardly kneels beside me and I feel cool air against my ass as I push my pants lower. A couple of classmates who have delivered before rush to my side, but most sit there gawking. We all know anal birth is normal and natural but seeing it live and in person is some wild shit. James, who I know had twins last year, probes to check my dilation, and Andre, who has a toddler, starts talking to me softly. “Bro, you gotta focus. Quit screaming and breathe. Da fuck is wrong with you, coming to class like this?” He shakes his head but looks resolved when James signals something from over my shoulder. “Next contraction, fuckin’ push.” My belly hangs low and heavy as I sit back on my haunches, looking for any relief, but it’s futile. I’m terrified but my body takes over. One push. Then another. Unbearable burning. On the third push the baby’s head is out and I can feel it wiggling. The sensation is surreal but I don’t have time to ponder. I bear down again and the baby slides out into James’ hands. I feel a sudden physical emptiness but my heart is bursting when I hear a mewling, then a cry. My classmates help me lie back; I’m shivering as I come down from the adrenaline high, but my grasp on my wet squawking baby is confident and secure. Professor Roca gives up, slamming his laptop shut. “Forget it. Class dismissed. See you on Thursday.”

#mpreg story #pregnant man #mpreg #mpreg kink #mpregnancy #mpreg birth #mpreg belly #ai art #ball belly #mpreg labor #public birth #birth kink #empregnasu

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gurugirl · 1 year

Text

cop!harry based on this request

Summary: You defied Harry and he's not happy about it.

A/N: couldn't help myself with this one you guys. 2289 words

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut (oral, male receiving), possessive and toxic behavior (cop!Harry monitors her activity which isn’t normal in a healthy relationship)

cop!harry masterlist

Harry walked in the door about ten minutes after you got home. You’d been out with a friend chatting over tea. You met Ronnie at the gym and hit it off so you’d been chatting with her and hanging out more often. You’d lost track of the hours when you apologized to your friend that you had to leave and got home just in time. You tried to play it off that you’d been home awhile but Harry knew your routine well. And it wasn’t like he minded if you hung out with anyone during the day but he was very protective and liked to know if you were going to be out during the day because he worried. Being a cop meant he was always trying to keep you safe even when it wasn’t necessary.

You had intended on being home to start dinner well in advance but you were having such a nice time chatting with Ronnie that the time passed by too fast.

“Hey baby,” Harry walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your front, and kissed your neck as you lit the stove to boil water.

“Hi. How was your day?” You spoke, trying to quell your nerves. You knew he was going to sense your hesitance. And of course, he did.

“What’s up?” He turned you around to look at you directly. His bright green eyes and dark curls always did you in. You couldn’t lie to him. And of course, you weren’t planning on lying, you were going to tell him but you needed to work up to that. You figured you’d just casually mention it as if no big deal. But you knew he wouldn’t like it. He always expected you would tell him when you left the flat ahead of time. But you didn’t this time. Not even a text to inform him. It felt silly. You were only just down the street. And Harry was too protective.

“Uh, nothing… I was gonna tell you that I went out and met up with Ronnie again-“

“When?”

You blinked and nervously laughed, “Um, a few hours ago. Got home just before you did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n?”

You looked down to take a breath but he grasped your chin and tilted your face back up so he could see you, “Let me see your pretty eyes when you explain to me why you didn’t tell me you were going out to see Ronnie.”

Your heart fluttered. You loved it when he was like this. Loved how forceful he could be but how it was tinted with sweetness, “Sorry, Harry. I was going to but it felt silly. I was only just down the street. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Harry pressed his lips together and nodded slowly as he moved his hand down to your neck, “Didn’t want to bother me… I see. I see. Well, we’ll discuss this after dinner,” he gave your throat a gentle squeeze before letting go and taking a step back, “M’hungry and I need a shower.”

You finished boiling the potatoes and roasting the chicken thighs in the oven by the time Harry was seated at the table and reading the paper as he waited. Silently. You knew you were in for it. At the least, you’d get a stern talking to. But you wouldn’t mind a nice spanking. The more you thought about the possibilities of what he might have in mind the more nervous you got. But your nerves were more of excited anticipation. Never of dread because you trusted him.

You brought the plates to the table and sat across from him quietly.

Quietly.

The entire dinner was silent. Harry didn’t speak a word to you as he continued reading the paper while scooping bites of food into his mouth.

When you were nearly done you cleared your throat and looked at your lover, “Harry?”

He continued looking at the paper as he raised a brow, “Hmm?”

“Um, did you want to discuss what happened? You said we’d talk about-“

“I said after dinner,” his gaze finally shifted to yours as he folded the paper and placed it down on the table, “But since now you suddenly want to talk to me go for it.”

“Uh, I mean. I just went out with Ronnie. Only a few blocks away. Like I said.”

Harry stayed quiet as he ate the last bite on his plate, his steely glare never leaving your face.

“So… I know I should have let you know but I… I didn’t think-“

“You didn’t think is right. Not very smart of you. You know that the only reason I want you to let me know is so that if anything happens I’ll know where you are. I need to be able to protect you and I can’t do that if I don’t even know you’ve left the flat.”

“Harry… you don’t have to always protect me. Nothing is going to hap-“

He stood up from his chair and pulled at your arm, lifting you from your seat, “Love how now you want to talk but earlier you couldn’t be arsed to give me a little heads up that you’d be gone. But that’s not what I want. Now that I know you didn’t want to talk to me earlier, I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t want to hear you talk at all right now in fact. Let’s fix this shall we?”

Harry pulled you into the bedroom and pointed at the bed, “Climb up and lie on your back, hang your head off on this side.”

You scrambled to position yourself like he wanted. You hung your head off the edge of the bed and you could only see Harry from upside down as he pulled his pants down.

He reached across your body and pulled at your dress, causing you to lift upward as he slid it off your torso and over your head.

“Open up wide.”

You did as he said. You knew what he was about to do. He intended to shut you up just like he said he would.

He tapped his tip at your lips, not fully hard yet, but he was warm and smelled like soap from the shower he’d just had, “Tongue out. Lick it up, make me nice and hard. S’one thing you’re good at at least.”

You jutted your tongue out and Harry moved his dick over your wet muscle, his balls pressing into your eyes and forehead as he moved himself over your lips and tongue.

You felt him grow hard over your lips and he leaned over your body again, this time pinching your nipples and making your squeal.

“Ah ah ah… shhh… None of that. You’re not meant to talk since you insist on keeping secrets.”

With that he pushed his cock past your lips, rendering you completely muted as he began to throatfuck you. You felt him get in deep as he rolled his hips into you and moaned.

Harry watched as your neck bulged from his cock with each heavy thrust. He could only see your chin and neck as he tucked himself in all the way, his balls pushed onto your nose.

When he began to go in a little harder you flopped around a bit, your arms flailed up, and tried to grab onto him but he just held your arms down so you’d stay still while he continued to get himself off.

“S’better, yeah?” Harry panted his words, “You wanted to keep quiet so that’s what you’ll get. Always get… ffucck, Y/n!” He gasped as you gurgled and choked, your chest heaved upward in search of air.

He pulled out to give you a gulp of breath and with his shiny cock resting over your mouth you dripped saliva down your chin and into your hair. Your face was red from the blood rushing to your head as you gasped before he plunged in again.

“See? Always get what you want. Don’t you?”

You couldn’t answer. Not only could you not shake or nod your head, but your vocal cords were also barely usable.

He loved your gags and your gurgles as he fucked into your mouth. You couldn’t say or do anything. Your pretty nipples were perked and your soft tits swayed as he pressed himself into you over and over again. He panted with the way you swallowed around his thick tip repeatedly. More drool cascading out of the edges of your mouth, making a filthy mess of yourself and his balls.

In an act of mercy, he pulled out again to watch you inhale a breath sharply, sucking oxygen into your lungs before he laid his scrotum over your mouth, “Suck my balls,” he spoke lowly without an ounce of irony.

Your whole face was wet with saliva and his balls were slippery on your lips but you managed to pull on them and suck on them like he asked. You liked this part. The break in between so you could pull air in through your nose and prepare yourself for what he was about to do. Because the next round he was going to destroy your throat so you wouldn’t be able to speak for days. He’d go until he came and had you nearly drowning in his come. But you wanted it. You yearned to drink his come and choke on it. You knew no one could do this to him the way you did. No one else had his knees nearly giving out from how well you did it. No one else. He didn’t want anyone else. He chose you. Even left his fucking wife for you when all your friends told you no married man ever left their wife for their mistress. They’d all been wrong. He chose you.

“You ready for this, darling? I’m gonna make you wish you had just texted me where you were. Talking and communicating is good isn’t it,” Harry moaned as you lapped at his heavy balls.

But you didn’t answer him and so he moved back, pressing your arms down and removing his cock from over your face, replacing your view with his upside-down face instead, “Communicating is good isn’t it? Answer me now.”

“Yes. Yes, sir. I’m sorry,” your voice was hoarse. Harry scoffed and stood back up. He teasingly stroked his cock and pressed his tip between your lips, holding one of your arms down with his weight leaned over you “That’s right. I need you to always communicate with me. Always let me know when you’re leaving the flat. I ask you to do that because I care for you,” his breathy words came out slowly as he began to paint his spit-covered cock all over your wet face, smacking your cheeks with the weight of his punishingly hard dick, “You’re a cop’s girl, after all. There might be weirdos out there after you because of me. I can’t let anything happen to you. So this is your lesson. You need to learn to talk to me and communicate.”

Suddenly he let go of his shaft and held you down by both of your arms as he stuffed himself back inside of your throat and groaned. This time, his thrusts weren’t kind. They were a punishment.

You squeezed your eyes closed and opened up your jaw and throat as much as possible. Your sinuses were beginning to drain with how he was going in hard and deep, your throat was going to be bruised.

Harry’s grunts and gasps and your wet gurgles and gags filled the bedroom and the hallway where the door was left open. You let your mind stop and your body float away as he used you for his pleasure and taught you a lesson.

Your throat always felt so good for him. He loved when you’d get still and just let him take over when he was punishing you. Sometimes you’d resist but by the end, you always gave in and let him have his way. Watching the way he could see his cock filling your throat with how your neck bulged each time he pushed in, how his balls kept thudding onto your upper lip and nose, the slick saliva dripping all over your face and into your hair.

Harry let go of your arms to cradle your head so he could hold you still as he pumped his come down your throat. You sputtered and gagged, choked on his come and he moaned over you, keeping his dick lodged down into your throat until he was finally done twitching and pouring into you. Until his orgasm subsided.

He slid himself out and you reached up for his thighs and gasped. You looked like a wreck. You looked like you’d just been throatfucked good.

Harry smiled as he knelt down and took your hands from his thighs so he could help you sit up slowly. He kept your hands in his as he sat down next to you on the bed and kissed your forehead, also wet with saliva.

“Good girl. Have you learned your lesson about not talking to me or communicating now? How it’s better for you if you just let me know what you’re doing so I’m not left in the dark and worrying about you?”

You nodded and coughed as you tried to swallow but it hurt. He’d really done a number on your throat.

Harry wiped the excess spit around your lips and chuckled softly. “Good girl. Now let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart. I’ll help you with a bath and then we’ll have some ice cream for dessert to soothe your scratchy throat.”

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bigboysfalldeep · 11 months

Text

Ryan's new assistant

Since the day I started to work at the set of 9-1-1, I have dreamt of having some fun with the male cast members. The first one that caught my attention was Ryan.

I loved watching him stroll around wearing his tight uniform, and after a few weeks, I couldn't help but make him mine, at least for a little while.

I sent him a message to meet me inside his private trailer; luckily, he had one at the time. I was just an average assistant, fetching coffee, snacks, and stuff—not my usual kind of work, but the goal was to stay under the radar. It worked perfectly fine.

So I texted him to meet me during his break, something about needing his opinion on anything. It didn't matter to me; it was just a means to an end.

So I was waiting there, patiently, until he arrived. The door opened, and that beautiful man stepped inside, still wearing his lovely uniform.

"Hey there." Ryan took a step closer to me. "How can I help you?" He smiled politely.

"I thought we could have some fun." I licked my lips as I approached him. He looked a bit confused by my obvious attempt at flirting, but then he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not into guys." Ryan took a step back as I reached for his shoulder.

"Come on." I said but he interrupted me. "I think you should go." He turned toward the door, but that's when I placed my hand on his shoulder, holding him in place.

Ryan turned his face towards me, and at first, I felt he was pushing me away, but then he grimaced. Something deep inside him was reacting to my gentle touch and my soft voice.

"Come on, Ryan. Relax." I said, rubbing his shoulder with my thumb while keeping eye contact with the actor.

"What are you doing here?" He said it breathlessly, but I kept massaging him, moving my hand along his shoulder and his neck.

"I'm helping you relax, man." I smiled comfortingly. "Just breathe, relax."

Ryan took a deep breath, and I felt his body tensing slightly.

"Good. Keep breathing." I touched him gently, trying my best to calm him down. Slowly, but steadily, I could tell he's following my every command.

"Just breathe, relax." I said that and placed my other hand on his tummy, stroking him as well.

"Relax?" He breathed deeply, and his voice was a little rougher than before.

"Yes. Relax. Just calm down." I kept stroking him and massaging him, and I loved watching this stud slowly go under.

"Very good, Ryan." I nodded and unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, just to slide a hand inside it and intensify my loving strokes. "Much easier, isn't it?"

Ryan nodded slowly and let out a low, guttural growl. "Easy." He sighed.

"Very good boy." I said, and I noticed that his body started swaying slightly. To steady him, I placed my hand at his neck, forcing him to keep eye contact as well.

As my strokes got more intense, I dared to go further.

"Just listen to me, Ryan. I will help you relax even more." Licking my lips again, I hold back a low moan.

He looked so hot when his eyes started to unfocus, and his face turned blank as well. I felt my cock tent inside my jeans, ready to stain them, but I had to control myself a little further.

"Do you hear me, Ryan?" I asked, unsure if it was too early, but when the actor opened his mouth, all that came out was an approving moan.

"Good. Now, I want you to close your eyes and focus on my voice and my voice alone." I said, grabbing his neck firmly while still stroking his tummy.

For a second, Ryan's eyes rolled back into his skull, and before he let out another low moan, I had to hold back another devious smile. I loved this part. He closed his eyes, and his head sank down slightly.

"Come here." I embraced him in a tight hug, one of my hands sliding down his back, the other still on his tummy. "Just follow my voice; nothing else matters, Ryan." I breathed into his ear, causing him to grunt once.

"Ryan. From now on, you, your mind, and your body belong to me. You will do as I desire. Do you understand?" I stroked his entire chest firmly, and he moaned again. "Yees."

I loved the way his body felt so soft yet so alluring. But I wanted more.

"Then prove it." I breathed into his ear while running my hand across his pecs and back to his tummy.

Ryan moaned in response and I raised his chin to meet his gaze; his eyes were vacant, foggy, and white. He was drooling, waiting for my command.

"Get hard for me, boy." My strokes got more firm and demanding, and it didn't take long for his entire body to react—much to my liking.

I enjoyed how, slowly but steadily, all of his muscles started to tense harder and harder. Ryan's entire chest bulged more with every deep breath he took while moaning softly.

My hand ran across his chest over and over again. I felt all of him growing bigger, just by my command. His uniform was barely enough to contain him; his biceps bulged so hard that I thought his clothes would tear apart, but yet it was able to withstand the ongoing pressure.

"Very good." I smirked and wanted to enjoy all of him. So I let my hands wander freely across his chest and his back to get a bigger picture. It was a sensational feeling—that big, buff man was leaning on me, getting hard for me, and just for me.

"Let's see." I licked my lips as my hand made its way down his body to his crotch. I took a deep breath once I reached the huge tent forming inside his tight uniform pants.

Tracing the outlines of his huge member with my fingertips, I sensed he was enjoying it as much as me. Ryan took several deep breaths, sighed, moaned, and groaned, while his body was willing to give me all of him.

Once I grabbed him, his entire body twitched shortly before he raised his head to let out another guttural moan.

"You're a big one; I like that." I rubbed the palm of my hand across his stiff dick again and again. I felt my body reacting as well. Enjoying the tingling sensation spreading through my chest into my arms, thighs, and neck, I gave in to my desire and played with Ryan's cock for a while.

Touching a man's dick always got me hard, but knowing it's a celebrity member made it even more special to me.

In one swift motion, I unbuttoned his pants and slid my hand inside them to pull his sweaty cock out. It felt so good, and in response, it twitched a few times, encouraged by my hand firmly touching it.

"Very good, Ryan. You're enjoying that, aren't you?" I whispered into his ear, but he didn't respond at first. Instead, he leaned into me, and more guttural groans came out of his mouth.

I played with his shaft for a few more moments, causing its tip to leak. "Good. Very good." Feeling his cum between my fingers, I separated myself from him to look into his gorgeous face.

Ryan was standing in front of me with his shirt unbuttoned, Dick standing at attention, and a beautiful, empty expression. All emotions had disappeared from his face; instead, he was waiting for me to give him another command, to tell him what I desired.

He looked so beautiful. I love my men as emotionless, mindless playthings. Subconsciously, I was touching myself through my pants, and I knew that I needed to release some steam.

"Suck me off, boy." I stroked my own cock through my jeans before unbuttoning them.

"Yes." Ryan replied, his voice dull yet husky. He approached me and went down on his knees. Breathing deeply, he placed his hands at my waist, pulled my pants down, and grabbed my already throbbing dick through my wet boxers before pulling them down as well.

"Fuck." I grunted as he exposed my wet cock. Having imagined him on his knees for weeks, seeing this made me even more excited.

Then he began to tickle the tip of my cock with his tongue, savoring the taste of my pre-cum. I, biting my lower lip, grabbed him by his hair, forcing him to look at me again.

"Just suck it." I released him, causing him to whimper.

"I'm sorry." Ryan said quietly, and then he opened his mouth, sliding my dick deep inside his throat.

He gagged at first but quickly adjusted to my size before he started to suck me off.

It felt so good, and the view was even better. That hot beefy guy on his knees, sucking me off, while I grab him by the back of his head, forcing him to swallow my dick even deeper.

Instinctively, he wrapped his big arms around my thighs to steady himself, and we both increased our pace. Hearing him moan and gag made my whole body even harder.

My breath quickened, and my heart accelerated as fast as a sportscar, but I wanted to enjoy it some more.

Any time I was close to the edge, I stopped him and let him breathe before doing it over and over again. Just when I couldn't take it anymore, I came right into his mouth, and Ryan gladly swallowed it.

"Fuck." I kept moving my hips to make sure he swallowed all of it before pulling out. "Very good, Ryan." Running a hand through his hair and across his red face, I made him smile derpily.

"Get up." I took a step back, stroking my dick lovingly before getting dressed again. "Get dressed, boy." I gestured to his dick and watched him struggle to put his thick dick back into his tight pants, but the result was even funnier: his dick was clearly visible through his uniform, but he didn't care, so why should I?

He then closed his shirt while looking at me, making me instantly hard once again.

Once he was done, I approached him again and pulled him back into that tight embrace, just to stroke his tummy again.

"Mhmmm," Ryan purred deeply, simply enjoying himself.

"Very good." I moaned into his ear. "Remember, you are mine now. Whenever I touch you like this, you will go back into this state and simply obey my every word. Understood?"

I stroked him firmly as he moaned in agreement.

"Good." I separated him from me and had one last look into his beautiful, blank face. "Now. You won't remember any of this. When I snap my fingers, you will return to normal. You will feel happy and smile the whole time. There is no issue here, understood?"

I placed a hand on his shoulder, stroking him again.

"Yes." Ryan spoke slowly, and with that, I snapped my fingers.

He blinked a few times before regaining his composure, looking around until his eyes focused on me.

"Hey there." Ryan smiled brightly. "How can I help you?" He said this, playfully nudging me with the back of his hand.

"Oh, it was nothing. I was just thinking about getting lunch. Want anything?" I smiled politely, nearly unable to keep my eyes from his beautiful body.

All of his muscles were still hard, testing the limits of his uniform, but he didn't seem to care much.

Thinking, he tilts his head, and I couldn't help but follow his hand as he subconsciously grabs his own, erect dick through his pants.

"I think I'm good; thank you." Ryan then turned his face back to mine, basically catching me staring, but he didn't mind.

"Alright." I nodded, and after taking one last look at him, I left his trailer, thinking about how much I want him to be mine forever.

#male hypno #male hypnosis #tf story #hypno story #gay hypno #celebrity tf #celeb tf #hypno slave #male mind control #gay mind control #hypnotized #celebrity hypno

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