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malleleothreesome · 10 months

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Leona who is pining after you...

💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu

💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!

It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.

The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!

💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.

Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…

💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.

As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.

As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.

💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.

As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.

His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.

He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.

💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.

The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.

Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.

💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.

Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.

He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar smut #twst leona #twisted wonderland leona x reader #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland leona #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar angst #my writing

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bardic-inspo · 5 months

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Dhampir Dreams

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Tav (Generic/Unnamed)

Part 1 of 2

Rating: Explicit (Smut)

Key Tags: breeding kink, pregnancy kink, body worship, light dom/sub, light bondage, light praise kink, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it dacryphilia, cunnilingus, PIV, Astarion’s past trauma, smut with so many feelings but nearly no plot, character introspection

Summary:

Tav saw beauty in Astarion he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like. Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her. Or: an angsty-turned-horny character study about the pale elf and his thoughts on creating new (un)life.

A/N: This is my first stab at writing a more generic Tav. Tav in this piece is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. Most other identifying features are left out.

Click here to read on AO3 instead

Astarion’s never thought much about making another vampire.

In the rare moments the notion occurred to him, he shoved it to the far back shelf of his mind so as not to waste himself on an exercise in futility. What did it matter, after all, while Cazador still lorded over him?

More than anything, Astarion yearned to see Cazador’s blood spill. In his mind’s eye, he’d watch it pool across the floor, not unlike the way he'd seen so much clothing puddled at so many heels. The lake he’d make of his master would be wide enough to swallow the garments of all who’d stripped bare before Astarion. Every sweat-soaked night he found himself bound to another moldering mattress beneath someone else’s weight, rocking through the motions that left his stomach sour, he’d fill his mind with such sweet dreams as Cazador’s death.

Whether Cazador would allow Astarion to drink his blood before being relieved of it varied with the fantasy. The dream changed as often as the hands on Astarion’s hips. It mattered little to him whether Cazador’s end came with true vampirism or not. As long as he ended.

As long as the vile river of shit that comprised Astarion’s life ended, one way or another. For better. Or for good.

Of course, he flirted with the fantasy of his own spawn, sent out like skittering spiders to dispense his will. Foul little monsters they would be. Fine tools to have in his arsenal; Astarion would only want such wretches of his own the way one might want a hammer to pound a nail. And what he wanted didn’t hold any weight while bound in Cazador’s chains.

So the idea recoiled into the dusty recesses of his mind, collecting cobwebs kitty-corner to such out of reach trophies as freedom from his servitude to Cazador and the sun itself. Both still gleamed, despite the tarnish of time and hope rusted over. Despite Astarion’s prayers, no heroes came to save him. No gods or slayers or saviors spared him from his servitude.

Until the illithids did.

Despite everything -- the centuries of torment, the hollow where his heart should be, its silence in his ribcage, the scars on his back, the thousands of other lashes that Cazador let fade from his porcelain skin -- Astarion did the one thing Cazador could never.

He stood in the sun. And on the sands of that same beach, another miracle washed ashore. A contradiction. His counterweight to everything else he’d ever known.

Tav.

Astarion’s hands roam the supple shape of her nestled against his bare chest. Her breath crests and falls soft and rhythmic, like the gentle slap of waves against the cliffs where they first found each other. His darling is always so serene in her sleep. Astarion dips his head down, nosing her splayed hair on the pillow, drinking in the lovely scent of lavender that always lingers with his lover.

Often, he wakes before her, as he does now in the dim blue light of dusk. Not yet dark enough for him to step outside, but for the moment, there’s nowhere in the world he’d rather be. Not even in the raw, rippling light of day.

The smell of her has his eyelids heavy again, the steady patter of her heartbeat hypnotic in his head. His hands curve over the flare of her hips before slipping beneath the hem of her tunic. He stifles the satisfied hum that bubbles in the back of his throat as his palm smooths down the lithe stretch of her stomach. He resettles with his nose in the crook of her neck, eyelashes grazing the twin puncture scars that mark her as his.

He’d thought, once, that he’d ascend and have her at his side for an eternity. He was scared. Frantic. Grasping. He thought he had to grasp at something, fashion some sort of tether, to have her. Thought he had to have power, and enough of it, to keep her. Now he holds her every morning in the bed they share, until day becomes night again. It’s as effortless as blinking.

Now, the thought of turning Tav into a vampire turns his stomach.

His lips brush, tender, to the flutter of her pulse in her neck. He loves those marks he gave her. He loves the way her fingertips tap against them when she’s lost in thought. He loves the way she arches into his arms as he feeds, the way her body gives and gives to him alone. That sleepy, slap-happy smile she has when he’s lapped his last for the evening. The way her eyes roll back, and she gasps, breathless, as he kisses a trail from her neck to a nipple and sucks fervently.

He loves that he’s marked her, but that it didn’t change her. He can still curl into the heat of her skin at night. Still watch her preen in a mirror. Still stare at those gorgeous eyes and know the shade of them is hers. Her cheeks still turn the shade of sunrise when he leans in with a lustful whisper, or grazes her waist with a feather-light touch.

Absently, his fingers follow the path of an old scar on her stomach. At its end, he finds the start of softness. Astarion loves that, too. She didn’t used to be soft there, when they were just surviving. They’re not just surviving anymore.

Perhaps he’s changed her after all. It’s not so scary anymore to admit she’s turned him, too. Not to the light, or anything so nauseatingly righteous. But rather, so Astarion could see himself in it. Even if his days of standing in the sun are done.

I’ll be your mirror, she vowed, what feels like another lifetime ago. She smiled in that fond way of hers that, at the time, hurt to look at too long. He scoffed at her poetic ruminations on his hair curling near his ears. The creases when he laughs.

Tav saw beauty in him he couldn’t have seen himself, even if he had a reflection to gawk at. She made love with a man who never thought he could have anything near it. Made all his red dreams come true, and then said: go on, make new ones, in whatever color you like.

Astarion never thought about being a father. Not before her.

He’s thought of Tav as a mother before. It flitted through his mind when Astarion watched her ease Arabella’s pounding heart with the gentleness of her own. That feeling lingered when Yenna joined their camp, and Astarion caught Tav teaching her cards. Combing the snarls from the girl’s hair. Coaching her in the basics of swordplay.

She’d be a wonderful mother. Astarion has no doubts in that regard. And he, well…

He doesn’t have an example to look back on, or one to look up to. But he has his compass. Tav’s heart beats, sure and steady, in his ear. That sound’s guided him through so much else. How could he lose his way for long, if there were two pitter-patters to listen to?

His palm paints cool over that blooming softness in her stomach. An ache burns in his own. The sort of hunger her blood won’t sate. Would she taste even sweeter, he wonders, with her body rounded and swollen?

Of course she would. So hard to improve something so perfect already. But she’d be radiant, if she were ripe with their child.

And after, when their babe is born, and her body is new all over again, he'd love every line, every fold, every mark that came from their coupling. He’d worship every part of her that was remade by the two of them to make the three of them. Marvel at the way the same body that first truly fed him would feed their child, too.

He’d help her find her way back to pleasure in her own way, in her own time. Just as she did for him. His Tav gives, and gives, and he’d give her anything, everything, for the rest of his days, if a wretch like him would be so stupidly blessed to be the father of her child.

Astarion pulls a breath between his teeth, his nose flooding with her floral scent again. That would change, too. She’d carry new notes in her sweat, in her slick, in her blood, while carrying their babe. Astarion wants to taste them all, to learn what songs she can sing while he does.

Instinctually, he presses to the plump of her ass to soothe the building stiffness in his cock. He plants a muted hum in the fabric of the pillow. His groin throbs to the thump-thump of his compass, beating oblivious beneath her ribs.

He pictures pouring into her, night after night, his spend spilling in little translucent rivers down her slicked thighs, overflowing from her cunt. Too much for her to hold in, but she’d take him as long as it takes until life sparks inside of her. Tav’s determined in all her undertakings. Resilient.

And in his dreams, she’s pliant. Pleading.

“Star, please.”

She’s trembling in that slinky, translucent nightgown she wears to bed sometimes. The one that hardly hides her skin, but cloaks it in a delectable, silvery sheen. He likes it too much to ruin it. Or at least, he has every other night.

Oh, he’d like to ruin it, now.

Tav’s pupils are blown black with want. Sweat shimmers on her skin, spurring his tongue to swipe his own lips. Her shoulder peeks bare from her nightgown, and Astarion can see her pebbled nipples, dark beneath the sheer silk that separates them. Hardened with hardly a touch. A feeling he’s intimately familiar with. His cock twitches as he strokes the back of his hand over the soft swell of her breast.

“Aren’t you sore, sweet thing?” He tries for tender, but it comes out coarse. Rough like the way he wants to grip her hips.

“So be gentle,” she says with a sultry smile, lips peeled apart and glistening just enough that Astarion can’t peel his eyes away. “I know you’ll take good care of me.”

Astarion slinks forward, crowding her against the edge of the bed. Careful, like cradling glass, his palm reaches out to cup the side of her cheek. She sighs into the touch, the curve of her smile reaching the heel of his hand.

“Always,” he says reverently, before his voice sinks to a growl. “You’re always so, so eager…for me.”

Her lashes flutter low over hungry eyes. All it takes is one little wordless bob of her head for Astarion’s own hunger to have the best of him. With a lazy roll of his wrists, he shoves her back with kind but firm force. The mattress bends with her impact, her breathless laughter nearly lost beneath the whine of the wooden frame. Astarion crawls after her, hands fisting in her nightgown, and pulling her free of it.

And then, she’s bare beneath him. Writhing from his tongue and teeth. Gasping out the best words he’s ever heard. Astarion downs them like a man starved, kissing her with the kind of fervor he thought reserved for bloodlust. But her lips, the promises they pour, are sustenance all on their own.

“I’m yours,” she whispers, “all yours. Always. All of me.”

Astarion can’t stifle the whine that drags from some hollow in his chest he never knew about before.

The bed creaks as he hitches one of Tav’s limber legs up over his shoulder and nips a path of sharp kisses from her ankle to the crux of her thigh. He pauses, sweeping a feverish gaze over the spread of her: legs parted in his grip, that perfect slit, already wet with want, the rest of her sprawled naked across the bed, at his mercy, at his desire, at her own.

He leans down, tongue dipping leisurely through her cunt. Always, she swore. So there’s no hurry in how he takes apart the woman he loves so dearly, in one of her favorite ways to be unmade. No matter how many times she claws the sheets and hisses, “Please, Star. F-fuck, I need you inside of me.”

It turns something in the depths of him to hear his own name said as a prayer. It makes him want with a force and harshness stronger than any thirst he’s felt for blood. He wants to turn her. Change her. Forever, for good. For the life they could make from their bodies, bound as close as souls could be. He wants to see her swell with the love they make, with all the love he’ll leave inside her.

She’s so close, her legs quaking violently when her hand tangles his hair and yanks his head upright. She’s beautiful, flushed ruby red, taking her air in shallow doses. Her eyes burn with equal measures adoration and reproach.

Astarion smirks, unrepentant, lips smeared with devotion. “My love, any work of art takes time. And that’s what we’re making, you know. When others look upon our progeny, they will weep in the sight of such beauty.”

“If all it takes is time, dearest,” she says, with a smile just as filthy, “then I don’t want to waste one second of it lying here empty.”

“Mmm,” Astarion sighs, nosing down against her throbbing clit, eyes flashing back to hers as he dares another lick. Her fist tightens in his hair. Astarion only chuckles.

“You’re right, of course,” he croons. “That won’t do, at all. I do recall promising to-- how did you put it the other night? ‘Fuck you full and senseless’? I’m more partial to what you begged me for a tenday ago, when I had you face-down and waiting for me as soon as the sun was set. Remind me again, my love, what you said when you weren't gasping my name?"

Astarion presses the tip of his tongue to her clit again and tastes her rapid, ravenous pulse in the heat of it. Tav’s hips jerk in response, but he holds her fast.

“I-I said I want-- that I want--”

“You want me to ‘breed you like a damn animal’," he finishes for her. "Oh, don’t be shy now, my sweet. We’re far past that. And we want the same things, after all. But," he sighs, letting his lips drag through her flushed folds, "I've another promise to keep, first.”

Astarion flicks his wrist, muttering magic beneath his breath. Tav’s sharp little yelp of surprise shoots heat straight to his groin. His cock throbs as she settles again, arms bound above her head by his mage hand, tits bouncing from the slightest struggle against her restraints. She smirks up at him, eyes aflame with fresh desire. Escape is the farthest thing from what she wants.

“You lie back now, dear,” Astarion drawls. “You’ll take me soon enough. You’ll be so good for me, like you always are, and take everything I give you. And I’ll take very, very good care of the woman I intend to make a mother.”

Astarion watches her keenly, tracing his forefinger down through her slick. He unfurls it, circling her cunt daintily, and watching her writhe for even the faintest promise of friction. He’s not sure if it’s his mercy or his selfishness that readily discards the thought of keeping her here, just like this, for the rest of the day. She’s mesmerizing, with the way her back arches from the blankets, and how her body strains towards any touch he’ll spare her.

All mine, he thinks, with a smile that makes him feel weightless. He grounds his hardened cock against the edge of the bed, groaning. All yours, darling. Just for you.

Pride rumbles low in his chest as he sets his mouth back to work again and knows she can’t cover her own. There’s no muffling his name pouring from her lips. No hiding how she cries for him. Her whole body winds taut, shuddering with every stroke of his tongue.

Finally, finally, he lets his finger slip inside her. Astarion sighs into a satisfied purr, letting the tremble of it soak into her sex. Her cunt’s a vice around his knuckle. Every pump of his finger feeds the building burn inside him, fanning the ache to be sheathed in that tightness. He only aches more, feeling her squeeze around his finger, and knowing she longs for him just the same.

He slips in a second finger to join the first, feeling her spread and then clench anew. Astarion ruts aimlessly into the mattress, in time with the thrust of his wrist. The head of his cock weeps anticipation with the rogue tear trailing down the side of her cheek. It’s only pleasure that makes her cry.

There’s only love in her heavy-lidded gaze as she pants, “Please.”

Mercy, then, Astarion resolves. For both of them.

Her thighs quiver against his ears like leaves in a breeze. Astarion swirls his tongue against the bud of her clit and sucks tightly. Tav stiffens abruptly. His arms hook firm around her legs as a shattered sound breaks from her throat,and a hard tremor courses through her hips.

He holds her through it, pinning her to the bed until just the faintest brush of his lips has her shuddering. The start of her plaintive whimper has him easing back. A murmured word sets her wrists free of her restraints. Her heart still hammers, sumptuous, in his head, as he peppers her legs in kisses soft as velvet.

“Beautiful,” he whispers with each one, slinking up her body while she comes back down. “So, so beautiful.”

He thinks of new life, as his knee bends between her thighs and drags her open all over again. He thinks of the graveyard, where he had her freely beneath the stars, in the dirt where he woke centuries ago. He thinks he’d be happy to die again, this way, as he slides forward and buries himself inside her waiting heat.

Astarion grates out a long, low moan as he basks in the wrap of her arms and her cunt. Dimly, he feels her fingertips threading gently through his curls. He thinks of sunlight on his skin again as he sinks in fully, bracing his arms on either side of her head, letting his forehead tilt against hers. He can feel her pulse thrumming through her body, through his cock, through his fogged-over thoughts. His hips roll to the sound, as if it beckoned him to motion. Tav’s head drops back into the pillows. She lets out a long, contented hum, while her body rocks in time with his.

“Is this what you needed, darling?” He huffs a laugh, catching her lips in chaste kiss. It’s enough for her to taste her own sweetness. And one squeeze from her cunt is enough to cut his breath away all over again.

“I think you needed me, too,” she purrs.

“Y-yes,” he stammers through bared teeth, his throat tied taut as she wrings him for all he’s worth. “Yes.”

She knows exactly what he needs, what he yearns for. He needs her, needs this, needs to see his seed seeping from her fucked-out hole, pink and puffy and leaking. He’ll know the rest of it was spent so deep inside her, her fertile womb is flooded. That’s his, too, with the rest of her.

Hips high for me, beautiful, he’ll say, when his last thrust is done. And he’ll hold her legs up against his shoulders, kiss her heels, and slip the pillow beneath her pelvis. Just to be sure it takes.

It’ll be another couple months before they’ll start to see the fruit of their efforts. Until Tav starts to bloom with it. And then, he’ll be hard pressed not to have his hands on her every hour. Cupping the fresh heft of her breasts as they grow with the passing days, heavy from him, for the babe growing in her belly. He’ll soothe her weepy eyes and tits alike, with a skilled tongue and sweet whisper. Rub her shoulders to ease the new weight her bones carry. Draw his nose down her neck and smell not just her, but himself, and the consequences of what they did, right here in this bed.

Feel her change beneath his hands and feel so fucking proud to be the reason.

Pleasure winds, binding, around his cock, and he feels that hunger snap its jaws around him all over again. His hips snap with it, jerking frantically. I need you, all of you, he thinks, and if he weren’t already fucking her, he’d be on his knees, begging for all he’s worth. Her cunt quivers, and he’s lost to the grip of her. Astarion shoves his own knuckles in his mouth to stifle a strangled cry.

“Star?”

Astarion rips awake in a sweat. He sees familiar wooden beams above his head, above his bed. Sunlight streaks the floorboards, leaking from behind the curtains. Turning his cheek, he finds his lover peering at him from over her shoulder, concern wrinkling her face. Tav still lays on her side, and Astarion still presses against her back. But his hand clamps tight to her thigh, bare where he hiked up her tunic. And his cock twitches fitfully against her ass, unspent and painfully hard.

Just a dream, then. For now, at least.

He lets out a long, weary sigh, slumping back into the sheets. Tav tilts her head, the worry in her gaze gradually dissolving into a mischievous gleam.

“I thought you might--” she starts, snickering, “but you were having sweet dreams, weren’t you?”

“The best I’ve ever had,” Astarion mutters mournfully as he buries his face in his pillow. “You were there, of course.”

Astarion rarely sleeps anymore. It’s not normal, not natural for an elf. But it was a trick he taught to dodge Cazador’s torment at least for a few hours a day. Reverie used to mean putting the horrors on repeat. He’d slowly eased from the habit, now that he has new memories worth seeing a second, third, or hundredth time.

Still, occasionally, he drifts to sleep without meaning to. Sometimes, he wanders off into novel nightmares. Or, if he’s lucky, he dreams of making love to his wife and making her pregnant. Of making their own little dhampir.

His hips shift, and he hisses. Pre-cum seeps from the head of his cock, slickening the shaft. It’s not enough. Not after such a succulent fantasy. But one touch from his darling might have him sated, if not entirely satisfied. Pleasure stabs, sharp, through his groin as she shifts and brushes him with her motion. He grimaces.

Just one touch alone could do it.

“I’m here now,” she smirks, twisting to face him. Her hand slips down between them. Mercy, he thinks, as her fingers wrap his length. He thrusts into her palm with a pleading whimper. “Tell me all about these dreams of yours.”

A/N: If you're yelling "Let him breed!!" at the screen just know I'm right there with you holding a megaphone about it 💜

If there's interest (from others & myself) perhaps there might be a part two where Tav takes matters into her own hands. Makes him say exactly what he wants, if he wants to have it so bad 👀

EDIT: This is now officially a part one of two 😉

If you'd like me to add you to a tag list for future one-shots, or all of my future BG3 fic (including multi-chapters), leave me a comment and let me know which you'd like!

& HUGE thank you to some lovely Discord and Tumblr friends/moots who cheered me on as I worked on this one! 💜

Tag List: @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #tavstarion #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion breeding #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x f!tav #f!tav x astarion #my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #divider credit: firefly-graphics #end banner credit: cafekitsune

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beomiracles · 2 months

Note

HI SERENE!! i’ve been reading your works for months now and ive never sent in a request before but im on my period rn and im so so horny 😭 i was just scrolling on tumblr and i had this thought of beomgyu being a panty stealer. like beomgyu being your roommate would steal your underwear and masturbate and cum on then and when you finally piece everything together he fucks your brains out repeatedly all over your guys’ apartment and then would steal your underwear each time adding to his collection. and the thing is he’d probably buy you more just so he could steal them again lol

i can’t wait until next week when this torture ends 😭

⌞ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ⌝

DREAM RECALL it was no secret that your roommate was behind your panties going missing. You had just never expected to be so turned on by the whole ordeal.

wc -> 2.6k

pairings non-idol!beomgyu x afab!reader warnings big time perv!beomgyu, beomgyu steals readers panties, reader kinda watches him get off for a moment, oral (f. rec), face sitting, cum eating, hm think that's it !

#serene adds ✎... you guys are so freaky...I love it ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞ I live for the perv!beomgyu agenda, and I will die on this hill. Praying your period will go away quickly because that shit sucks </3 this is not proofread I'm super tired heh

You don’t know when it started.. Actually it might have been around a month ago. It was subtle at first, almost unnoticeable, but as time went on you started realizing that your underwear pile would shrink with each wash. In the beginning it was only the simple ones, the ones that didn’t stick out, the ones he thought he could get away with. It was almost endearing, how slick he thought he was being.

But last week is when the theft made your eyebrows raise. Your roommate had snatched your most expensive piece of lingerie, not to mention, your favorite. Honestly you didn’t know if you should consider him brave or stupid, but as you watched him try and act normal with you during dinner, you settled on the latter.

Perhaps it should’ve creeped you out, your roommate that you’d known for less than six months, stealing your panties doing god knows what with them. But it didn’t. In fact you would be lying if you said that it didn’t turn you on, just a little. And though you had never actually seen or heard him, you could only guess what he used them for. Your mind easily conjured images of him, sprawled on his bed with your used underwear hovering above his face, inhaling your scent as he fucked himself dumb on his hand.

Choi Beomgyu and you had quickly become good friends after getting an apartment together not far from campus. You often helped one another with your studies and walked to class hand in hand almost every morning. — It was an acquaintance that had sparked out of pure convenience, fortunately blooming into a great friendship, but now it was slowly distorting into something far more intimate as Beomgyu seemed unable to keep his perverted antics at bay. You often went out with friends, leaving him to roam the apartment, which he did, your room seemingly his main target. And this night was no different.

It’s well past midnight and in your tipsy state, you struggle to jiggle the keys into the lock. Finally stumbling inside the small hallway, you shut the door behind you, albeit somewhat louder than you’d aimed for. You tiptoe through the dark living room, almost hitting your leg on the dresses between the two doors leading to your bedrooms. With a hushed curse you reach for the door handle only to realize that you wouldn’t have to. Because your door was already open.

That was weird, you always made sure to close it. With the nudge of your foot, it glides further open, revealing your dark and empty room. Thinking no less of the unusual occurrence, you strip yourself off your clothes as you get ready for bed. But then there it is again, another anomaly. — You could have sworn that you made your bed in the morning, yet the sheets were rustled, your pillow moved, almost as if someone had slept in here. And upon touching the flimsy blanket, you find that it’s still warm.

Odd. Your room smelled an awful lot like Beomgyu.

⋮

You thought that perhaps he might come clean, confess his perverted behavior or even his underlying feelings. But he never did. Another week passed and by now you were starting to run low on underwear. — You decided that if he wasn’t going to out himself, then you would simply have to catch him in the act. Easy enough, right?

Your fingers graze across the smooth silk of the many pieces presented before you. Reds, pinks, even some blues, you thought long and hard about what to get; even asking a worker to colormatch you. In the end you decided on a white lace set, it was accompanied by a few pink bows. It was perfect. — You felt pretty in it, very pretty. And as you twirl in front of your mirror, your stomach tingles in anticipation.

Beomgyu wasn’t very smart, at least not when it came to you. It was easy to trick him into believing that you’d be gone for the evening. What wasn’t so easy was squeezing yourself into the tight space of your closet. Crammed between heaps of clothing and a few boxes you had yet to unpack, it was uncomfortable to say the least. However, the sound of your bedroom door creaking open not even fifteen minutes after you heard the front door shut, made it all worth it.

He’s quiet, funnily enough, you wondered why, it wasn’t like there was supposed to be anyone home. Yet he silently shuts the door behind him, carefully walking over to your dresser as he slides his fingers across the painted wood. — The small crack the closet allowed made for a narrow view but you could clearly make out the way he rummaged through your top drawer, seemingly familiar with where you kept your panties. “What a freak”, you thought, yet your heartbeat picked up as you watched him find a pair he liked, bringing the fabric to his nose as his eyes fluttered closed.

You watch as he throws a glance toward your bed, the duvet neatly folded, just like you always left it. Then he makes his way over and your jaw slacks as you realize just what was going on. As if the scent of your panties wasn’t enough, he lets his head fall to the side as he inhales the fragrance of your pillow. Sprawled on top of your mattress, the sheets rustle beneath him as he shifts slightly.

Your eyes remain glued to his figure, unable to tear them away as his hand slides down his chest, dipping beneath his sweats as he slowly strokes his cock. You knew that your roommate was up to some perverted shit when he thought you didn't know, but actually seeing it happen, and in your room, on your bed, it made everything so very real. — He traps his bottom lip between his teeth, emitting a soft groan as his thigh twitches. His free hand has your panties captured in a tight grip as he keeps them to his nose, inhaling your scent with each breath.

Too caught up in the way Beomgyu was touching himself before your very eyes, you almost forget that you were supposed to catch him. Blinking, you give yourself a small mental slap for getting so distracted. He was a sick freak, that’s right, and you were about to confront him. With one final deep breath, you push the closet door open. It makes a creaking noise but he doesn’t seem to hear it. Too lost in his own pleasure, his head thrown back as his hand worked up and down his cock.

“I washed those sheets yesterday.”

The small comment echoes out through your room like that of a church bell and Beomgyu immediately freezes as his head jerks up. The hand down his pants quickly withdraws as he clumsily tries to hide your panties behind his back, pressing himself against the headboard to get as far away from you as possible. His prominent Adam's apple bobs as he swallows and you find your gaze lingering on the small movement as you bite your lip.

“I thought you were… you”, he trails off, biting the inside of his cheek as his face flares up in all shades of red, beyond embarrassed over the situation in which you’d caught him in. You shake your head, biting back the grin threatening to spread across your lips. — “I wasn’t, it wasn’t.. I mean I didn’t..” He blabbers, trying to come up with excuses and lies to cover his evident crime.

“I know you’ve been stealing my panties.” You shrug, feigning indifference as your eyes drop to the hand behind his back. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it, “why didn’t you just tell me?” — You swallow, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “I mean, isn’t the real deal better?”

He frowns, sitting up straighter as he tries clearing his throat. “The real deal..?” He mumbles, though his words soon fall short as his gaze drops to the way you hike your skirt above your stomach, revealing the new lace set you had bought solely for this occasion. — Beomgyu lets out a strangled noise from somewhere in the back of his throat, squirming on the mattress as his eyes glue to the way your panties hug your figure.

“What the fuck”, is all he says, his sentence coming out as a short breath, his gaze momentarily flitting back up to yours before drifting down again. You quickly realized that your plan didn’t exactly go further than this and that now you had absolutely no clue of what to do. Had it been a bad idea? Should you have just confronted him about it like a normal person? But his next words make all your doubts vanish.

“Come here”, his voice is hoarse as he beckons you over. Your feet move on their own, and soon you find yourself crawling over the soft mattress in order to reach Beomgyu. You think that he might say something, anything to ease the tension between the two of you. — Instead he presses his lips against yours, albeit hesitantly, but it’s still a kiss, and an urgent one at that. The second he feels you respond against him, he pulls you closer, tongue pushing inside your mouth in a matter of seconds.

His hands roam your skimpily dressed figure, bunching your skirt up high above your waist as his fingers twiddle the fabric of your lingerie. Resisting the urge to grind yourself onto his thigh, your legs rub together as you try to alleviate the ache building in your core. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw in a sloppy manner, his hair tickling your face as he went.

“I want you to sit on my face.”

You stilled at his blunt request, fingers halting on his shoulders as you swallowed. “S-Sit on your face?” You wondered if perhaps you had misinterpreted his words but Beomgyu quickly nods, pulling back as his tongue darts out to glide across his already glistening lips. “I…o-okay”, you meekly agree.

That was how you found yourself hovering above him, gripping the headboard tightly as you bit the inside of your cheek. Beomgyu’s hands slid along your thighs, his hungry gaze unwavering as he eyed your drenched cunt, arousal seeping through the far too thin fabric of your new panties. — “Sit down, please”, he whispers, the hands on your thighs tugging you toward his face and you slowly comply.

His mouth is warm against your clothed core as he practically kisses it. Teeth grazing across the wet material before he pulls it into his mouth. You hear him groan and for a moment you think you might be too heavy but he only urges you closer, his sharp nose prodding against your covered clit and you whine as your fingers on the headboard turn white.

“You smell so good”, he grunts as he pushes your lingerie to the side, inhaling your now very prominent scent once more. His comment should not have made you throb the way you did, and you let out a small noise of surprise as his tongue drags across your folds, pushing between them to prod at your clenching hole. — It wasn’t like you hadn’t been eaten out before, but the way Beomgyu sighs against your cunt as he savors each droplet of your wetness feels new and foreign.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs with so much force that it might’ve hurt had it not been for his eager mouth that latched on to your clit. The squelching sound of him pushing his tongue as far inside of you as he possibly could fills your ears, it feels dirty, but at the same time you never think you’d felt more empowered. You glance down to where his face lay buried between your legs, his brows knitting together as he focuses completely on making you feel good, a sheen layer of sweat forming on his forehead.

One of your trembling hands leaves the headboard as you reach down to gently brush a strand of hair from his eyes. The very same eyes that flicker up to meet your own as you do. Your mouth falls open at the recognition in his gaze and you feel yourself throb around his tongue as you fight to stay composed. — “You’re so pretty”, his words are muffled against your cunt, the movement of his lips making you squirm on top of him.

His hands move from your thighs to rest on the curve of your ass, rubbing the flesh there before squeezing it softly as he tugs you closer. “Beomgyu I-I’m” your sentences come out jagged and interrupted by the breathless moans being pulled from your throat but Beomgyu seems to catch on, his tongue shifting to flick at your throbbing clit. — “Need to taste you”, he groans, his lips against yours moving with far more urgency than just seconds prior.

When your orgasm hit it felt as if you were floating, your body weighed nothing but the world was also on your shoulders all at once. Beomgyu’s face almost became one with your cunt as he lapped up every single droplet of your high, letting you coat both his nose and chin in slick as he moaned against your core.

Once your thighs finally stopped trembling did you try and move off of him, only to be stopped by his hands still firmly gripping your ass. “Wait”, he breathes, leaning to press a few feathery kisses to your inner thighs as his fingers hooked around the lining of your panties, slowly tugging them down. — He helps you strip out of the flimsy garment as he lays you down flat on your back.

The white lace gripped tightly in his fist, he raises it to his nose as he inhales your scent all over again. “Fucking hell”, he mumbles gaze flitting between your used lingerie and your wide eyes as you peer up at him. “Mind if I keep these?” He asks, letting the piece of clothing dangle in front of your face with a small smirk. Quickly nodding, you gasp as you feel the tip of his cock rub against your already sensitive cunt.

“One more?” He pouts before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

⋮

You lost count of how many times Beomgyu brought you to an orgasm that night, and the night after that, and the one after that. The days almost blended together as you spent the majority of them wrapped in his warm embrace. It didn’t matter where or when, the kitchen, the shower, on the couch, his bed, your bed… And Beomgyu would always make sure to get something out of each occurrence.

“Open it”, he motions toward the small box currently placed on your lap. Your fingers pull at the small ribbon holding it together before carefully lifting the lid. Unable to hide the small huff of disbelief as your eyes fall on the piece of silk inside. — “Really?” You ask as you bring the dark red panties up. But Beomgyu only smirks as he leans closer, one of his hands sliding along your thigh.

“Yeah, why not? You’re gonna look so fucking sexy in it.” — You raise a questioning brow as you snatch the lingerie from his reaching hand, “you bought this for yourself, didn’t you?” He only shrugs, a sly smirk tugging on his lips.

“Can you blame me?”

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star-girl69 · 7 months

Text

Because Of You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: years after your rite of passage, the boy who’s heart you broke just won’t leave you alone. clarisse, your girlfriend, quickly decides she’s not a fan.

a/n: should i stop procrastinating and then forcing myself to write shitty fics quickly? probably. but not today!! this is kinda just like an au of dont delete the kisses but… you guessed it… IDC!!!!!!!! from this ask

thank you all so much for patiently waiting i love y’all soooooo muuccchhhhhh 🫶🫶💋 as i mentioned on my acc i have the next week off from school, pls expect more content then!!

Because Of You - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, this sucks so bad y’all sorry lolllll, y/n is a year round camper!, starts out very background heavy but i really don’t care 😭, creepy men UGH, ugly bitches not being able to let shit go, im gonna say sexual harassment just incase, swearing, usual demigod stuff y’all know what you’re getting into, jealous!clarisse YESSS, possessive!clarisse ik i screamed!!, protective!clarisse too, slightly graphic makeout scene, i think that’s all, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

When you were young, you were thrilled by the thought of love.

The idea of belonging not only with someone- bodies fitting together like puzzles pieces- but belonging to someone- wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Later, your half-siblings would describe mostly similar experiences to yours- an overwhelming desire to be loved, wanted, needed. Ever since you ran into camp with a monster hot on your heels and satyr shouting encouragement next to you- everyone’s stared at you. They poke and prod, they act like they’ve never seen a daughter of Aphrodite before.

It’s annoying, but it makes you feel good- but not quite.

Until Alek came along.

You were both 13, you still believed in soulmates, and you wanted nothing more than to be with each other for the rest of your lives.

You were 13, and he felt like the only one for you.

And when you had to break up with him to fulfill your rite of passage- it felt like the world was ending. You cried for days and begged your sister Phoebe to say it wasn’t a true, it was just a mean, mean prank.

But she couldn’t tell you that, and there were more types of love that romantic.

While you longed to hold someone, to be held- you also craved your mother’s approval like you were starving. You wanted her love, you wanted her to visit you in your dreams, you wanted gifts from her, you wanted everything and anything she could give you.

So, it hurt like you had never known hurt before, but you did it. Alek seemed entirely indifferent to it, almost ignoring you and pretending you hadn’t said it- but you felt a warmness around you, a dove flew between trees, you knew your mother was there and she approved.

Breaking up with Alek felt like the sun had exploded on top of you.

Being with Clarisse felt like the sun was wrapped around you.

—-

After Alek’s initial denial, he went through all the other stages of grief, mourned your relationship like you did, and you came out on the other side with a one-sided agreement to forget it ever happened.

Alek got stuck. Or went back. He started to believe that you were still meant to be, that much you could tell.

Until that day at the training fields when your hand slipped at archery and you almost shot Clarisse in the head- and she had glared at you so harshly while you ran over and examined her head, gushing out apologies and fretting over her.

She pushed you away, hand lingering for a second, eyes softening before she quickly looked away.

“Just… be more careful,” she had said, almost like a question, like she wasn’t sure the words were coming out of her mouth.

And, Gods, were you terrified it was all some secret plan. Make you think it was alright only to corner you in the woods and probably kill you, or something.

And when she asked the next day to teach you how to shoot a bow, you agreed with tears in your eyes, knowing of her reputation, and it took a lot of trust and a lot of swapped secrets for her to prove to you it wasn’t all some elaborate plan.

But even if her plan was to kill you the entire time, you fell in love over her fixing your stance, hands brushing as you accidentally grabbed the same arrow, stolen looks across the pavilion.

It wasn’t until a random kid bumped into you, making you fall and twist your ankle. Clarisse had this look in her eyes that was so genuine, so full of love and care for you, softly caressing your leg after she had punched the other kid in the face.

And you realize as she said you were doing great, limping while she helped you to the infirmary, that this was something.

And as much as you hated the violence being committed over you, it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and the warmth in your chest was all you had ever wanted. This was what it was like to belong with someone, to someone, with her, to her.

This was what it was like to be admired. Loved. Wanted. Needed.

And when she softly told you goodbye, you had kissed the corner of her lips and thanked her- turning to walk into your cabin, ankle already feeling better thanks to the ambrosia.

She grabbed you by the wrist and turned you around, pulling you against her tightly and kissing you so harshly like she had just found the secret to the world in her lips on yours, her hands on your hips.

And when she finally pulled away, embarrassing strings of spit connecting your lips, she said she was sorry. Probably the first time she had ever said that to someone, and you smiled.

“Sorry. It’s just… once your lips were on mine, I don’t think I can ever stop. I don’t wanna stop.”

And she kissed you again and it was all you ever wanted out of this life- to love and be loved, to hold and to be held, and it was all because of her.

—-

The welcome back campfire is your favorite time of year.

It’s when the camp comes alive, when the Gods themselves seem to return to this place- even Mr. D is a bit more lively with all the pure infectious energy running through the first few days of camp. Everyone’s getting settled, classes haven’t started quite yet, and the year round campers get a much needed break.

As much as you and Clarisse wanted to keep things private, when she punches someone in the middle of the pavilion for accidentally bumping into you, it’s not hard to figure out Clarisse cares for you more than she does anyone else.

And after one of your younger siblings, Cara, a 12-year-old notorious for staying up late, saw you and Clarisse kissing that first night- it spread like wildfire.

But it was the winter, so it still felt secret, until summer rolled around and Clarisse kept getting more and more annoyed by every camper who entered the gates. She would grab at you in the middle of meals, drag you into her bed, even kiss you in public- do all these things that seemed so out of character for her, but she was a different person when she was with you.

Everyone had been looking at you oddly all night, shocked, confused, even Clarisse has cracked a genuine smile at someone who dropped their drink- squeezing your hand.

Maybe they had all heard the rumors. Maybe they didn’t believe them.

But it’s all cleared up when Clarisse leads you to the best seat, the log not too far from the fire but not too close, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your temple.

Your cheeks heat up, only because Clarisse is never this touchy in public, and never around this many people before.

All of the eyes on you feel weird- they feel so judging.

And you’re not used to that, however vain it may be.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” you mumble, shuffling closer to Clarisse so your legs are pressed together.

She leans her head against your shoulder. “‘S okay. Don’t worry about ‘em, baby.”

You huff. “Did no one ever teach them it’s rude to stare, though? Like… c’mon.”

She sighs dramatically, lifting her head from your shoulder.

“Stop fuckin’ staring,” she says. Not quiet shouting, but her voice is loud and forceful. Her voice carries weight.

And eventually, at the risk of Clarisse’s wrath, all the wandering eyes stop.

A few of Clarisse’s siblings laugh from around you, commenting that the stares were getting a bit ridiculous, everyone just grateful that you all might get a little reprieve from the overwhelming stares and whispers.

But, you still feel uneasy. Clarisse kisses your shoulder.

And while you look around at the faces very pointedly not staring at you, there’s one person who still is. You roll your eyes, open your mouth to comment on it- but your mouth quickly snaps close at the sight of Alek.

—-

You don’t mention it to Clarisse. Maybe because breaking his heart haunts you, maybe what could have been haunts you.

You try not to think of Alek or that night, you try not to think of the entire age of 13. You always knew that Alek never quite let you go. He still sort of believed that the two of you would come back together- subscribing to some abstract belief soulmates.

You don’t think about Alek. Everything you do is because of her, because of Clarisse.

Sometimes, knowing you have secret admirers makes you feel all happy, but now that Clarisse sneaks you into her cabin every night- it makes you feel weird. You really don’t want anyone except for Clarisse, the idea of even being near someone else kinda disgusts you.

But, you choose to believe that maybe he was just shocked, and he’ll get over it in a few days.

You spend your days in the summer sun with Clarisse, holding her hand on walks through the strawberry fields, still using your archery lessons to spend time together, staring at each other from across the pavilion at meals, dreaming about a future together when it gets dark and you’re forced to whisper softly.

Alek is just always lurking. Is it coincidence? Is he stalking you? Every time you’re with Clarisse, trying to enjoy a nice date, he’s there- staring at you like a lovesick puppy.

And if it wasn’t because of her, you would probably be flattered. But you have Clarisse, you’ve moved on, you’re in love and happy.

It’s the late afternoon, you’re trying to enjoy a long moment with her, breathe in the sweet smell and just feel how happy you are, know it’s because of her.

The fields are still crowded with kids who pushed off their chores until the end of the day, so you and Clarisse stay on the outskirts. Not too far into the woods that’s filled with satyrs and nymphs who have grown very hostile towards any two campers who make their way into the woods. But not too close.

You don’t even register that other people are there. You’re going on about your annoying half-brother, she’s pretending to listen intently- but it’s just enough to be here with her, and at least she’s listening to the sound of your voice. At least that brings her some comfort, and that makes you feel good.

“And then, he said-” you trail off, feeling like something’s crawling all over you, practically being able to feel the anger in the air.

“Hm, what?” Clarisse asks, snapping out of her reverie at your silence.

Alek is glaring at you, of course. It just feels so juvenile. You had received letters from him for years- ones that he didn’t sign- but you knew. He said that the two of you had so much more to give together, that a second chance was all he needed to make you forget about the rite of passage, about pleasing your mother.

Clarisse squeezes your hand, leaning closer to you.

You used to like the feeling of getting those letters, of knowing you were loved and wanted. But now, with Clarisse, because of her- it feels wrong.

She follows your eye line and Alek quickly looks away, back down at the strawberries he’s supposed to be picking.

Clarisse’s hand tightens around yours.

“Who the hell is that?” she huffs.

You suck in a breath. “Alek.”

“Al-huh?”

You smile, despite how uneasy you feel.

“Alek, Clarisse. From my rite of passage?”

“Oh,” she nods, nose scrunching ever so slightly. “The one who left you those creepy letters? Has he left anymore?”

“No, no,” you say, risking one more glance at his back- just to assure yourself. Maybe you’re just making it all up. “Not since last summer. I mean, he was staring at us the night of the bonfire too, he’s always around on all our dates- it’s just creepy, at this point.”

“Sounds like the fucker has a death wish,” she drawls. “I’d be happy to help him with it.”

You bump her shoulder with yours. “Yeah, yeah Miss Violence.”

She smiles back, but she searches her eyes and you can tell she doesn’t like what she sees.

“Hey, c’mon. I’ll kill him if he pulls some shit again.”

“Clarisse.”

“Beat him up?”

“Clarisse.”

“Physically threaten him?”

“Clar-”

She smacks her hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” she smiles. “Don’t stress. I’ll take care of it.”

“Clarisse!” you shout, laughing, but her hand is still pressed tight over your moth.

“Oh, sorry, baby, I can’t hear you!”

“Bitch,” you hiss, and she frowns.

“Mean.”

—-

Clarisse, unfortunately, is true to her word.

Alek finally leaves you a note. It’s simple, unsigned, but obviously him. You recognize his chicken scratch scrawl.

All it says is:

I miss you, we could be something

She writes him a note back, a long one- first talking about all of her accomplishments as a daughter of Ares, then detailing all the ways she’ll make him regret thinking about you.

She tells you now, whispers in her bed, she laughs and your mouth hangs open.

“Clarisse!” you gasp, scolding her with a soft hit to her shoulder.

She rolls her eyes and moves closer to you.

“What else was I supposed to do? Ignore it? You don’t know me if you think I could just ignore some random dude flirting with my girlfriend. He’s a fuckin’ weirdo, and hopefully that note will teach him somethin’.”

“I mean. I doubt it will,” you mumble after a moment.

She smiles, your heart squeezes- because her smile is so beautiful- and because Clarisse never smiles like this. It’s bloodthirsty. It’s almost inhuman. It’s Godly.

“Then I’ll have to teach him in… other terms.”

—-

Dinner this evening is slow and relaxed. It’s Friday, so you’ve all made it to the end of the first official week of camp. Chiron let’s the rules fade away tonight, cabin tables have been abandoned and everyone sits where they want.

A few Hermes kids volunteered to start a fire, Mr D is busy trying to get the new kids to sneak him some alcohol- but he’s hard pressed to find ones who haven’t already been warned not to.

The energy in the air is infectious. The promise of a late wake up tomorrow, a fun night, the feeling of the moon and the fire, warmth on your skin- it’s a recipe for lowered inhibitions, for everything to come a little easier.

Clarisse sits next to you a table in the pavilion. You’re surrounded by Silena and Beckendorf, a few Hermes kids, a few Ares kids- a big mosh of random campers squeezed together at this one table- but it works, for whatever reason.

There’s nothing like laughing at someone’s shitty joke and feeling Clarisse laugh with you, pressed close to her so you can feel her chest rumble, feel her arm squeeze around you.

“He did what?!” Silena screeches, looking at you with wide eyes.

You laugh at her shock, at the audacity of Alek.

She sneaks a quick glance at Clarisse, who seems entirely engrossed in her siblings’ arm wresting tournament at the next table over.

“Yeah,” you sigh, feeling sort of complacent with it now. It’s not like anything will change. You’re here because of her, because of Clarisse. Everything you do is because of her.

Breathing, eating, sleeping. Basic human functions and the need to survive has only strengthened with the motivation of staying alive for her.

“Anyways,” you smile. “Clarisse left him back this big, long note. All about how she’s the strongest girl at camp,” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too big to be anything but joking. Besides, everyone knows she’s probably right. “And then threatened him a whole bunch. So, hopefully, he’ll just get his head out of his ass and then everything will be good again.”

You breathe out at the end of your small rant, and Silena smiles sympathetically.

“Hopefully,” she echoes.

But, because of Clarisse, because of her arms around you, you don’t feel anything but peace.

—-

Of course, life is not straightforward for demigods.

At the end of the day, you’re doomed to fall in your parents footsteps- except there is no immortality for you to fall back on. You’re vain and you’re proud, just like your parents, and you step too far, jump too high, and you’re as left dust on the floor.

Even though the same path had been left out for you to repeat, doomed footsteps to follow in, you step where they stepped and expect a different end.

The night is pitch black, besides for the brilliant stars and the bright, bright moon. It makes everything feel so private and secret. It makes Clarisse relax, makes her hold you closer but looser.

It feels good to feel her arm loose around you. She’s not afraid of you disappearing, because she knows of someone dragged you away you would rise up from the waves and straight back into her, into her arms.

The Apollo kids are playing music, voices hum along, the night is on fire with the crackles and the rising smoke, on fire with the peace, the content.

It feels like nothing can hurt you here.

But you’re a demigod, and life is not that easy.

The seat next to you is abandoned, and you barely even take notice as it’s quickly filled again- but you take notice of the eyes on you, of the body leaning forward to speak softly to you.

The fact that he’s here, the fact that he blatantly didn’t listen- you suppose you could have felt some sympathy for before, craving a life that wasn’t his anymore. Living off of memories made him too hungry.

Your mouth presses into a thin line as you recognize the voice in your ear.

“Y/N, I jus’ wanna talk.”

The rest of the table has fallen silent, and you realize everyone had almost immediately taken notice of his entrance- and you could tell by the way Clarisse’s body was tense against yours- he would regret ever coming over here.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, shifting closer to her.

She hooks her head over her shoulder, shifting completely so she’s straddling the bench, pressed up against your back.

Her tone is genuinely confused.

“Are you, like, okay in the head?”

The table, previously silent with fear, now bubbles with forced laughter.

“It’s not of your business,” Alek says, staring directly into your eyes. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, just completely shocked, too scared to move like it will all become real.

Clarisse puts her hand on your forehead and floats it down across your face, and your eyes voluntarily flutter shut.

“You’re not even worthy of being looked at by her,” and you can hear the smile on her voice. She confidence seeping from her pores- you can feel it all with the way she’s protectively wrapped around you.

“Y/N,” he says again, ignoring her through gritted teeth. “I just want to talk.”

“If you say one more fuckin’ word to my girlfriend I’m gonna kill you.”

There’s no smile on her voice, no edge of a joke. Not even angry. She’s deathly calm. She’s focused, like a 20 pound weight sinking to the bottom of the sea. She cuts through whatever she has to and everything else knows to avoid her.

You don’t know why the hell Alek just can’t let the 13 year old version of you go, why he’s looking something where there’s nothing, and you’re just so done with all of this.

You open your eyes, sitting up, letting Clarisse’s arms fall around you in confusion.

“Alek,” you start, softly. “We dated for a month when we were 13. That’s all it was, that’s all it’s ever gonna be. It’s over, okay?”

“Exactly,” he breathes. “A month when we were 13- and we were that good together? We could do so much more now, I wanna show you.”

“Okay, I’m done,” you mumble, standing up.

And without you in between, Alek finally gets a good look at the daughter of war. She’s pure, streamlined muscle. Every inch of her body has been meticulously trained to kill monsters- Alek knows that killing him would be easy.

Clarisse cracks her knuckles and you almost laugh at how cinematic it is.

—-

You hum as you run the alcohol pad over her split knuckles. Clarisse likes to leave the scars like this, the small ones, let them heal on her own. Even though she winces at the feeling, you know she’ll be walking around, proudly showing off her scabs until they finally fade away. She’ll cross her fingers and hope they scar, probably.

Clarisse watches you with admiration, admiring your movements, your voice, even though you’re really not doing anything special. But, to her, everything you do is special.

“Did you see how bad his face was?” she asks, trying to remain calm, but eagerness slips into her voice.

“I did,” you laugh. “It was real bad, baby. Good job.”

She huffs, as if it’s common knowledge.

“I always do a good job, just matters what level of good I’m on. I think this was one of my best works though, huh?”

She admires her split knuckles and you roll your eyes, finally starting to put some bandaids on the clean wounds.

“You’re crazy,” you mutter.

She shrugs. “You’re the one who let me. You’re the one who loves me.”

“Yeah,” you mumble after a moment, not really wanting to lie to her, tease her right now. She smiles soft and sweet, placing her fingertips against your jawline and leaning forward.

“Did you like watching me?” she breathes, her low voice hitting you right in the stomach, breath against your lips.

You circle her biceps with your hands and run them up and down the tense muscle.

“You know I did.”

“Three months no dessert,” she smiles.

“Three months of sharing with you,” you laugh. She smiles wider before finally, mercifully, putting her lips on yours.

Everything you do is because of Clarisse. It feels so good to be close to her like this- practically in her lap- fo feel how strong she is, to know what she did for you today.

It feels so good to know she loves you.

When you pull away, trying to chase her, she dodges you and kisses your jawline, your neck, and you throw your head back and release the most unladylike sounds as she leaves hickies on your neck, seemingly determined to make them as dark as possible, as easy to see. And a lot of them.

“Jealous?” you say, biting your lip to keep in a moan.

“Just want everyone to know you’re my girl. Want everyone to know who makes you feel good, feel loved, huh?”

You stomach twists and your mind goes blank.

“Huh?” she repeats, sticking her face in your neck to breathe in and out, catching her breath. “Why you feelin’ like this, baby?”

“Because of you,” you breathe. “Because of you, Clarisse.”

—-

y/n walking around the next day looking like she got attacked by a vampire

silena trying to be happy for y’all but also concerned for your health

clarisse just being proud as hell

—-

this was small so idk if y’all picked it up but clarisse was jealous before alek even came along- jealous that there were more campers coming! like? she just doesn’t like unworthy losers looking at her girl 🙄

—-

possessive!clarisse i love you so much baby

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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girlgenius1111 · 9 months

Text

sweet dream was over

chapter 1

r struggles in the aftermath of her breakup with alessia. until a certain brown eyed spaniard makes her chest go from heavy to all fluttery. it was just the breakup talking though, right?

Waking up was painful. Your eyes were swollen from crying, and your chest ached, the cause of which was not physical.

You'd known that you and Alessia weren't doing well. In fact, you were fairly sure you were going to break up the next time you saw her. Things had been different with her since the world cup, and it seemed to you that the relationship had run it's course. It made you sad, of course, because you loved Alessia. You were just no longer in love with her.

Maybe it would have been easier if you didn't love her anymore, maybe it would have hurt less. When you picked up the phone 2 nights ago, the last thing you were expecting was for her to be on the other end, in hysterics. It had taken you a while to piece together what she was trying to say, her sentences fragmented.

I didn't mean to.

I just got caught up in the moment.

You're so far away, and I never see you.

It was a one time thing, it didn't mean anything.

You weren't even mad at her, not really. Because cheating, even once, was so unlike Alessia. She was a fiercely loyal person, and this behavior was nothing short of alarming. You'd known she'd been struggling, and you'd hoped her move to Arsenal would help. It had, you think, but only so much could improve when she refused to take the time to care for herself and her mental health in the way that she should. Her actions were a red flag that she wasn't doing well, but it didn't mean you felt any less betrayed.

It didn't matter that the relationship was clearly on it's last leg, you hadn't broken up yet. Alessia had made you feel loved, really loved, for the first time in your whole life. More than that, she'd made you feel worthy of her love.

Perhaps that's why you were so upset- in an evening, she'd undone all the progress you'd made with yourself, completely destroyed the confidence you'd had in yourself. It didn't make complete sense to you, but you didn't have time to dwell on it. You had to get up, get dressed. Hopefully do something to hide the fact that you'd been crying and get to practice. You wished you'd tried harder to pull it together yesterday; you'd had a few days off, which ended up working well for you. You'd had time to be upset, but clearly, you hadn't stopped crying soon enough.

-----

No amount of makeup could hide the puffiness around your eyes, and you knew your efforts had failed when you walked into the locker room and hour later, and felt several pairs of eyes on you right away. If there was anything you were sure of, though, it was that you absolutely did not want to talk about it.

Your locker, though, was set right in between Alexia and Irene's. They liked to keep an eye on you, which was normally fine, but today, you didn't want your captains' attention on you, not at all.

You kept your head down as you pulled on your training kit, lacing up your boots carefully, pretending not to feel the stares of the girls on either side of you. Your attempts to become invisible didn't work.

"What's up?" Irene said, sitting down next to you. You didn't turn your head to look at her.

"Nothing. Why?" You asked. Alexia responded from your other side.

"You don't look so good, amiga. What happened?"

"Nothing happened," you said, doing your best to keep your voice emotionless. You didn't have to look at the older Spaniards to know they were exchanging disbelieving looks. Before they could say anything else, you stood up, heading out to the pitch without another word. You would have made it without any extra conversation, too, if you hadn't almost knocked Ona down when you came rushing out of the doorway.

"Shit, sorry Ona," you said, steadying her with a hand to her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she asked, instead of responding to your apology, as soon as she got a look at your face. You rolled your eyes, annoyance with yourself for crying so hard only growing.

"Long weekend," you told her, for some reason unable to lie to the inquisitive brown eyes looking back at you. You watched as they crinkled in concern, and inexplicably had to blink back a couple tears that gathered in your own eyes. Something about the way Ona was looking at you, full of care and worry really got to you. It completely surprised you, how concerned to seemed to be.

"What happened?"

You paused for a moment, seriously confused where you insistence that nothing had happened had disappeared to. The truth was suddenly itching to get out.

"Less and I broke up," you told her quietly. Ona had obviously played with Alessia in Manchester, and she'd known you as a couple well. You'd decided this morning on your drive that when people inevitably found out about the break up, you wouldn't mention what Alessia had done. She wasn't herself, and she shouldn't have to deal with the entire team suddenly hating her guts.

"I'm sorry, y/n. That's really tough. We're all here for you though, okay?" you nodded in response, and she smiled at you, before continuing on into the locker room.

You thought about the conversation all the way onto the pitch, waiting for the rest of the team, and through the first round of drills.

Why had you told her? You and Ona got along well, were friends, but you were friends with Alexia and Irene, too. That hadn't stopped you from lying to them.

You couldn't stop thinking about the look on her face, just briefly, after you'd told her it was over between you and Alessia. It was... excitement, if you weren't mistaken.

You managed to shake off your confusion 20 minutes into practice. You were just upset about Alessia, the breakup. Your brain was all over the place, not to mention your emotions.

-----

You should have known Keira and Lucy would find out. It was a testament to how scrambled your mind was, that you didn't think to factor in Leah.

You were just about to leave after training, just tying your shoes, listening to the lively conversation around you. The locker room was still pretty full, and you didn't think much of it when Lucy and Keira came to stand in front of you. You looked up expectantly, expecting them to ask you to get lunch or something.

"What happened with Alessia?" Lucy asked, not quietly. She seemed upset, and your teammates around you both didn't miss it, conversations fizzling out at the way Lucy was standing, arms crossed, in front of you. If you hadn't known her so well, you would have thought she was mad at you. You knew, though, that she was just being protective.

"What do you mean?" you asked, looking between her and Keira.

"Leah texted me and asked if I knew why you guys had broken up." Keira said, looking closely at your expression. Your teammates began to chime in.

"You and Alessia broke up?"

"When?"

"Why?"

"What'd she do?"

"What'd YOU do?"

Pina got a smack to the back of her head from Patri for that last one. Sighing, you decided to give them as few details as you could before making a break for it.

"Yes we broke up. It was a few nights ago. She didn't do anything, no one did anything," you said, wishing you were a better liar. Everyone clocked that one, seeing how your eyes dropped to the ground, and then back up as you continued talking. "Sometimes relationships don't work out. It's fine, I'm fine," you finished.

"Is that why you walked in looking like you cried yourself to sleep last night?" Keira asked and you pulled a face.

"Thanks, Kei. Seriously, I'm fine," you insisted. Everyone in the room looked like they had multiple more questions, but someone else was calling your name before any of them could.

"Y/n, the social media team has a scheduling question for you," Ona said, peaking in through the door. She'd stopped training early to treat a sore muscle, and was already showered and ready to go. You bid your teammates a goodbye, walking out of the locker room as fast as you possibly could, ignoring the questions that followed you out the door.

You walked with Ona down the hall, turning to head down to the social media office.

"Oh, they didn't actually need you. I just figured you could use an escape," Ona told you, stopping you with a hand on your arm. You turned to look at her, picking up on the way her eyes were fixed on your face, as if worried you'd be mad.

"Thank you, Ona. I appreciate it." She nodded. It was quiet for a minute as you resumed walking to the parking lot, before she spoke again.

"Why'd you lie to everyone?"

"What do you mean?"

"I texted Tooney, to ask if Alessia was doing okay with the breakup," Ona said, blushing slightly. "She told me Alessia was really torn up about it. Because she felt guilty. For cheating on you."

You always forgot to factor in Ella Toone and her big mouth. You couldn't be too mad at her, though, because you'd woken up to a text from her the other day, telling you she was furious with Alessia, promising you that if she'd known it had happened, she would have told you.

Now, though, you had to deal with Ona knowing what had really happened. And the way she was looking at you, like she wanted to give you a hug. And the way the freckles splashed across her cheeks; briefly, you wondered if you could count them all.

You'd clearly gotten distracted, because Ona took your lack of response as annoyance.

"I didn't mean to find out anything I wasn't supposed to, I just wanted to make sure-" Ona rushed out.

"It's okay, it's not your fault. I just didn't want anyone to be mad at her, she's having a hard time. It's complicated, and everyone would have been insanely protective, and I don't need that," you explained.

Ona only raised her eyebrows at you in response.

"What?" you asked, upon seeing the look on her face. She shook her head, blushing again. Did she always blush this much?

"Only you could defend someone that cheated on you," Ona said.

You tried to defend yourself, thinking it was an insult. "I'm not defending her, I'm just saying-"

"No, I didn't mean it's a bad thing. It's just a you thing. You always look for the best in people." Ona explained casually, as if she hadn't just made an incredibly kind judgement of your character. You did try to do that, but you hadn't realized she'd been paying close enough attention to notice.

"Anyway, I won't say anything, but if you want to talk..." she trailed off, suddenly looking insecure.

"Thank you, Ona. Really. I might take you up on that," you told her, suddenly overcome with appreciation for the girl walking next to you. The incredibly pretty girl walking next to you. You pushed the thought away as you reached her car.

"Bye, y/n. See you tomorrow," she said, flashing a real smile, a big smile, at you this time.

"See you, Ona." you replied, continuing to walk to your car. You felt the familiar return of sadness to your body, settling heavily over you. You hadn't realized that it had disappeared while you were talking to Ona. You found yourself looking back at her car, before you caught yourself, shaking your head.

What the hell was that? You and Alessia had been broken up for half a weekend, and suddenly you were acting like a lovestruck teen around one of your teammates. What was wrong with you? You didn't need this, not now, not with a teammate. Still, as you drove home, your thoughts were filled with the kind words of a certain Catalan woman.

-----

let me know if you guys like it / want to see what's coming next :) i'm honestly not super sure if people will want to read this, or are interested at all, so tell me if you are!

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle

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turtletaubwrites · 8 months

Text

One Shots & Requests Masterlist

18+ ONLY. MDNI. SOME FICS CONTAIN DARK CONTENT. Currently writing for One Piece. All of these fics are NSFW and Fem!Reader unless marked otherwise. Content warnings and Ao3 links can be found on each post. This post updates frequently! Check out the main masterlist for completed and ongoing series, as well as WIP updates and announcements! One shots related to the poly fic We've All Got Needs can be read on their own, and are marked with a 💜

Ace

The Only One I Want ~ (1657) ~ You have a delicious dream about a certain swordsman. Your boyfriend, Ace, is not pleased when you wake up. (Brief Zoro x Fem!Reader in a dream.)

My Pretty Little Thief ~ (2004) ~ Ace knows where he left his hat. But when it's not there, he hunts it down, only to discover the culprit. How can he convince the thief to return his precious hat?

Buggy

You’d Do Anything For Me, Wouldn’t Ya, Doll? ~ (2104) ~ You are Captain Buggy’s Vicious Dagger, his blade tossing beauty that recently became his lover. You’d do anything for him, and tonight you prove it.

Crocodile

Wrong Side of the Bars ~ (3990) ~ Your promotion landed you in hell, otherwise known as Level 6 of Impel Down. All you wanted to do was work this shit job so you could move on up, but there's one prisoner that won't leave you alone. It turns out those long nights go by faster with a bit of company.

Cross Guild

Numbers Game ~ Masterlist ~ (Oops. Turned into a series.) ~ You left your stable/boring life as an investment banker to have some adventure. Unfortunately, that sweet Warlord of the Sea didn't follow your financial advice, and now you and your clown are at the mercy of his biggest lender and his new business partner.

Katakuri

Sweet Abduction ~ (4084) ~ Part 2 ~ (2175) ~ Part 3 (End) ~ (3781) ~ Times are tough, and you're afraid you'll have to give up the family business, until you find people who cherish your work. Who knew making doughnuts would gain you the attention of an Emperor of the Sea, and her second son? Will your new life be as sweet as it seemed?

More fics below the cut 🖤

Law

See How You Like It ~ (1927) ~ Law is back from another fiasco with the Straw Hats. You think he's cute when he's grumpy. He thinks you should have some more respect for your captain.

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist ~ (Oops. Turned into a series. Completed) ~ !! YANDERE!Law x Fem!Reader !! DARK CONTENT !! ~ You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.

Misty Eyes ~ Masterlist ~ (Oops. Turned into a series. Ongoing) ~ (Includes Doflamingo x Fem!Reader in the past & flashbacks) !! DARK CONTENT !! ~ You were the weakest member of the Donquixote Family, so Doflamingo found another way you could serve him. Until your childhood crush found you, freeing you from those chains. What will Law expect in return?

Such a Softie ~ (461 ~ Drabble) (SFW) (GN!Reader) ~ Law is struggling to help you with your pain, until he has an idea. This is the coziest treatment you've ever received.

Luffy

My Favorite Kinds of Nights 💜 ~ (2375) ~ Part 2 ~ (3625) ~ You are enjoying a quiet moment away from the feast while the crew celebrates another victory. Your three partners, Robin, Sanji, and Zoro are occupied for the evening, so you take time to relax. Until you receive an unexpected request from your captain.

Multi and/or Character x Character

Same Time ~ (1123) ~ Zoro x Fem!Reader x Sanji ~ Your boyfriends are always arguing, but sometimes you're the one that wins the fight. Tonight the battle is for who gets to go first.

So What? ~ (SFW) ~ (1096) ~ Zoro x Sanji ~ An enemy catches Zoro eying Sanji in the middle of a fight. Zoro doesn't care, until they make the mistake of threatening the cook.

One Piece x Introverted!Reader (SFW) ~ Headcanons & Drabbles ~ Zoro, Sanji, and Robin

The Sounds You Made 💜 ~ (1422) ~ Sanji x Fem!Reader, Zoro x Fem!Reader ~ Sanji overhears you discussing and enjoying your casual arrangement with Zoro. He doesn't like the way Zoro talks to you, so he listens in to make sure you're okay.

Lucky Boy 💜 ~ (2561) ~ Sanji x Robin ~ Robin and Sanji have been dating you for a while, but tonight is their first date together. How will the cook and the archaeologist get along?

In Control ~ 💜 (2599) ~ Zoro x Robin ~ Robin and Zoro have been dating you for a while, but tonight is their first date together. How will the swordsman and the archaeologist get along?

You Never Shut Up, Do You? 💜 ~ (1323) ~ Zoro x Nami ~ Nami has watched you enjoy your poly relationships with Zoro and Sanji for a while. She's got an itch that needs scratching, and she decides to see if Zoro can help her out.

I Saw You First 💜 ~ (1451) ~ Part 2 ~ (1309) ~ Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader ~ You have a casual arrangement with Zoro, but he isn't happy that you'll be seeing Sanji tonight. He tries to get his mind off of things, but overhears you enjoying your time with the cook. Can he control his anger?

Touching What's Yours 💜 ~ (815) ~ Part 2 ~ (2344) ~ Part 3 ~ (6048) ~ Zoro x Sanji, Zoro x Fem!Reader x Sanji ~ You have a casual arrangement with Zoro, but he isn't happy that you had your first night with Sanji tonight. Zoro overheard some of your time together, and his rage kept him from sleeping. Instead, Zoro has gone to confront the cook for taking what's his.

Sanji

Sleeping Beauty 💜 ~ (2646) ~ Your boyfriend has yet another kink he'd like to explore with you. You tell Sanji that you trust him to take care of you, even while you're sleeping.

Filthy Little Angel 💜 ~ (1323) ~ Sanji requests to try a new way to worship your body. You know your boyfriend will take good care of you.

Parted Lips (SFW) ~ (1734) ~ Sanji has made another meal just for you, but it's still too painful to eat. You open up to Sanji about your jaw pain, and he offers to help you work through it.

Sanji's Super Birthday Present 💜 ~ (988) ~ Part 2 (End) ~ (1105) ~ You work up the nerve to ask Franky for help with a gift for Sanji. You hope your birthday boy will like his new toy.

Gag Order ~ (3268) ~ You catch your boyfriend flirting with another woman, and you can't stop your worries. Until you decide to use your talents as a hypnotist to make sure you're the only one Sanji flirts with. He told you he only wants to be with you, so what's the harm in helping him keep that promise?

Shanks

A Good Catch ~ (4367) ~ Part 2 ~ (5030) ~ Part 3 ~ (4613) ~ Part 4 (End) ~ (4275) ~ You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.

Zeff

My Lovely Patron ~ (1300) ~ Part 2 ~ (1922) ~ You are a journalist following a story about fishmen attacking a floating restaurant. You try to ply the head chef with wine for some details, but end up getting something else instead.

Zoro

Just a Dream ~ (1288) ~ You have a delicious dream about your captain's brother. Your boyfriend, the first mate, is not pleased when you wake up. (Brief Ace x Fem!Reader in a dream)

Hogging the Blankets 💜 ~ (1210) ~ Zoro hogged the blankets, so you try to wake him. He tells you what you need to do now that you've woken him up.

Fighting Dirty 💜 ~ (2341) ~ You can’t help it when you get distracted by Zoro during training sessions, so he brings the sparring mats to the bedroom to teach you a lesson.

Mama Bear ~ (2606) ~ (Modern AU) ~ You're a gogo dancer, and you bring Zoro to a rave on your night off, wanting to show your boyfriend what that part of your life is like. Zoro can't help but notice how much you like to take care of people, and he has some thoughts on the matter.

Zoro x GN!Swordsman!Reader (with a powerful/unique sword) (SFW) ~ Headcanons & Drabble

A Swordsman's Shame ~ (SFW) (GN!Reader) ~ (1530) ~ You and Zoro have the same dream, and it's built a passion between you. But something has been holding you back, keeping you from opening yourself up to your crewmate, your rival, your fellow swordsman.

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sxcret-garden · 1 year

Text

ღ NCT Dream Jeno x fem-bodied!reader ღ words: ~2.5k ღ genre: college AU, roommates AU, a bit of humor if you squint, smut ((subby) perv!Jeno, a bit of humiliation, handjob (idol receiving), masturbation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms) ღ warnings: none ღ prompt: “How many times have you jerked off to me?”

It’s a Thursday afternoon like any other - you arrive at home at around 4pm after the end of your last class, you’re slightly exhausted from having a busy day, and you’re craving nothing more than some alone time with your laptop and some comfort food.

Except that you didn’t expect to hear your roommate moan your name upon entering your shared flat. You think you misheard it at first - maybe you’re more tired than you thought and you’re so out of it that you’re having hallucinations? - but then you hear it a second time. Jeno, most likely in his room, is calling out your name loud and clear, followed by a groan that causes blood to rush to your cheeks. You’re a little embarrassed about it at first, but at the same time you find it strangely amusing. And so, you make the most immoral decision in a while, and you draw closer to his room as quietly as possible to eavesdrop.

“Mmmh… feels so good, Y/N…” you hear him mutter. “Your pussy… so tight…” You raise your eyebrows as you're caught off guard by the dirty things leaving his mouth, but at the same time a huge grin appears on your face. It doesn’t come as a surprise that he’s into you - you’ve known that something’s up for weeks, and even your friends who occasionally come over when you’re both home have noticed that he has a crush on you. He hasn’t made any clear advances on you though, and neither would you for as long as you’re stuck living under the same roof. You don’t mind that he obviously treats you differently than his other friends, that he smiles more to himself when he’s around you and that sometimes he stares at you a little too long when he thinks you’re not looking. However, the thought of attempting to date someone you’re already living with would’ve never crossed your mind either.

And still, here you are now, listening in on Jeno getting himself off to what you assume is a very detailed fantasy about you, and you’re somehow not repulsed by that at all. And so you bite your lip in excitement as you hear him groan your name over and over again, spelling out bits and pieces about the mental image in his head.

“Ride me… yeah… just like that…” An uncontrolled moan escapes him, making you think he’s about to cum, and you wonder whether you should announce your presence before, after, or not at all. “Ah… your tits… I love your tits bouncing like that…” And then it happens. You crack up. You make a noise. And at the same time he stops making noise altogether. You’ve given yourself away, and in order to spare him the suspense that you imagine is killing him at this very moment, you step through the half open door. Standing in his doorframe now, your gaze finds his huge hand wrapped around his cock in all its pre-orgasmic glory, and then also his wide open eyes, quivering lips, and deep red cheeks. He gapes at you, opening and closing his mouth like a fish under water, and you almost feel a little sorry for him.

“Excuse me, but would you let me in on the fun or am I supposed to keep pretending I’m not here while you’re getting off to my bouncy tits?” Jeno remains speechless. You’d have thought he’d immediately try to hide, try to talk himself out of this situation, but none of the likes. He just keeps sitting there, at the edge of his bed, frozen.

“What day is it?” That’s the first thing he says when he finally speaks.

“Thursday?”

“Fuck. Sorry. Oh my god. I thought it was Friday. Shit.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you lean against the doorframe. Friday is when you would’ve had an evening class, so it makes sense that he thought he’d be undisturbed for another while. However, this also makes another burning question arise - almost as burning as Jeno’s deep red ears.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?” Jeno looks around the room, obviously in a panic, and somehow his hand is still wrapped around his exposed dick.

“U-uhm… like… today?”

“Lee Jeno, my god. I didn’t think you were such a huge pervert.”

“I… I’m sorry?” Now he grins abashedly, like a five year old boy that has just been caught preparing a prank on someone, which makes quite the contrast to the rest of the position he’s in.

“At least it’s not on my bed…” you comment, and when he seems to run through another circle of internal panic at your words, you immediately brush them off, gesturing wildly. “You know what? No, let’s not talk about this.” Though, if you’re perfectly honest with yourself, on second thought it somehow turns you on to think he’s secretly snuck into your room just to get off on you there.

“I… can I have a minute or two? And then we uh… talk about this?” Your roommate gives you an apologetic yet mischievous grin, and you profusely shake your head.

“No. No, you can not have a minute or two.” And then you push yourself off the doorframe, and you take a few steps to his bed until you’re standing right in front of him. You see him gulp as he looks up at you, and a single drop of sweat makes its way down the side of his face. Perking up an eyebrow, you slip out of your shirt, throwing it to the ground somewhere next to you.

“So… how many times?” You pose the question once again as you put your hands on his shoulders, and a knee between his legs.

“T-today it’s… the first time…”

“And overall?” You lean in and you let your lips ghost over his neck. “Be good and tell me the truth.”

“U-uhm…” Jeno stutters, unable to bring himself to answer. You find it kind of cute, and when you nip at the skin below his ear and you let a palm glide down the shirt covering his stomach, he becomes even more flustered. You decide to tease him for a while, running your fingertips back up and raking them into his hair as you take your sweet time scattering kisses all over his neck. He leans his head back a little, allowing you better access, and you have to grin at how needy he is.

“Been close?”

“Huh?”

“Were you close to having an orgasm when I barged in?” you clarify, and you lift your head to get a good look at his face.

“I-…”

“Just tell me. Maybe I’ll help you out a bit…”

“V-very close…” He’s still embarrassed that you caught him. You can tell by his stammering and by the way his cheeks are still dusted pink, but when you put your hand over his, slowly sliding it towards the tip of his cock in order to take over for him, he relaxes with a sigh.

“Now… how many times?” You stroke him slowly, watching him melt under your touch with a groan.

“F-faster…” he mutters under his breath, and you huff.

“Then answer my question.”

“A few times…?”

“Oh really?” You apply some pressure when going over his tip, and another desperate gasp escapes him.

“M-maybe every Friday… for… some time…”

“You are such a perv,” you say, but at the same time you speed up the movement of your hand. Jeno throws his head into his neck with a groan, digging his fingernails into the bedsheets at his sides.

“I heard you call my name too,” you say. “Wanna let me hear that again? Right in front of me?” If looks could kill you’d be dead by now, but when you cock your head to the side and you stop moving your hand, he’s quick to give in.

“Y/N…” he moans, “keep going. I’m begging you…” You smirk at his request, and you give him what he wants.

“It’s really cute how much control you can have over a guy once you have his dick in your hand.” You say that, not thinking much of it, but it seems to be doing something for him, as he squeezes his eyes shut and moans your name again.

“Y/N… I’m gonna-” His load spills into your hand as he clenches his teeth and a strained groan escapes his throat. You stay like that for a few seconds, drinking up his blissful expression that none other than you is responsible for, and then you get up to grab a tissue from beside his bed to clean yourself up.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry, I-” Jeno gets ready to apologize, pulling his pants back over his softened dick, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“What are you doing?” you ask, unzipping your jeans and slipping out of them. “I’m not doing this for free. Also, I thought you wanted me and my bouncy tits to ride you?” He blushes again at how nonchalantly you say this, but when you also rid yourself of your underwear, now standing completely naked in front of your roommate, he merely gapes at you in disbelief.

“Get naked,” you prompt. “Or are you telling me you’re gonna miss out on this chance?” Jeno doesn’t think twice, and he hastily slips out of all his clothes as you watch him with a victorious smile on your lips. You let yourself marvel at his toned, well-trained body, and once he sits down on his bed completely naked, you crawl on top of him, pushing him back into the blanket by his shoulders.

“Now, tell me again what you almost got yourself off to.” Again, he’s shooting daggers at your wicked grin and your words, but you can also see a certain thrill in his stare as he begins to talk.

“You… on top of me… like right now,” he begins to explain reluctantly as you run your hands down his chest and abs. However, the more your palms roam his body, the more confident he becomes. “I was thinking about you riding me… my hands on your hips, like this.” Jeno grabs your hips at once, giving them a squeeze, and then you allow him to guide them to his core. You roll them in his lap once, and you feel your folds grazing his hardening length.

“You’re already getting hard again just at the thought of it?”

“Aren’t you getting wet at the thought too?” he challenges you, and you can’t exactly deny it. Not when you feel the heat rushing to your core so clearly.

“So? What’s next?” You ignore his attempt at teasing you, and instead you keep rocking your hips, feeling him grow against your slick pussy. He sighs at the friction, and you raise an eyebrow, throwing in, “My boobs?”

“Y-yes…” he answers, and suddenly his stare is glued to your chest. He brings one hand up to squeeze your right tit, and you moan at his touch. It fits into his hand just perfectly, and you too find yourself throwing your head back at the way he gropes you.

“You’re so perverted…” you hum, and then you lift your hips off him for a second. Aligning yourself with his full grown length, you prepare yourself to take him in. And then you let yourself glide down on him, taking in just the tip to tease him, but in that same moment you can clearly feel just the tip isn’t enough for you either.

“Fuck…” you mutter under your breath, hands propped up on his chest.

“Well, you’re the one currently having sex with that perv, so…” Jeno comments. You come back up, having him slide all the way out, before lowering yourself onto him again. You repeat that process a few times, each time taking him in a little deeper, until eventually you both run out of patience, and he takes control with both hands back on your hips. Guiding you all the way down, you gasp at the way he stretches you out, and Jeno gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size. And then, you begin to bounce on top of him, and you find his lustful eyes fixated on your breasts.

“Perv,” you mutter, but that only seems to turn him on more.

“You’re enjoying it,” he throws back, and you can only moan in response.

“Maybe…” But who could blame you, when he feels so good inside you, and when his hips meet you so perfectly every time you sink down onto him. You feel him pressing his thumb against your clit, and it causes you to groan, becoming more eager in your movements.

“You gonna get off on that perv’s cock, huh?” Jeno teases you, directing his full focus on pleasing you. You whine in response, feeling your high approaching at light speed. Something about this situation makes you unbelievably horny, but you currently don’t have the means to figure out what exactly that is. Instead, you focus on moving your hips in just the right way to maximize your own pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N… you feel so good…” You moan in appreciation, and through a string of curses falling from your lips, your high crashes down on you. You feel yourself clench around his cock, and your thighs tremble as you keep rocking your hips even past your orgasm. You bring Jeno’s hands up to your boobs, letting him squeeze and play with them as he pleases while an expression of utter bliss appears on his face.

“Mmhh… this is even better… than I imagined…” he groans through gritted teeth, and now you feel heat rushing to your cheeks as well because of his boldness. You feel him twitch inside you as your hips keep bouncing on top of him, and then eventually he shuts his eyes tightly and grunts your names as he cums inside you.

You crawl off him, knees still shaky, but you do your best not to let him notice. Then, you collect your clothes, tucking them under your arm.

“I’m going shower,” you inform your roommate, who’s following your every move with his eyes. You can tell he’s unsure what to say, and you’re at least as speechless as he is about what you just did, but you’re a bit better at seeming unbothered. You walk out of the room, and just as you’re right in the doorframe, he calls out to you to make you halt.

“We should do that again sometime,” Jeno blurts out, and you fail to suppress a dirty grin.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I catch you getting off to me again I’ll think about it.” You throw him a wink, and before you can fully register the smirk on his face that’s supposed to tell you he’s accepted your challenge, you leave the room for a nice and hot shower.

#nct dream smut #nct smut #jeno smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles #nct imagines #nct x reader #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #kpop smut #smut

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iwanty0uu · 8 months

Text

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Can I ~Kehlani

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯ ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

“This shit so good like it should be illegal” you said to yourself after discretely taking a puff out of the pre-rolls connie left for you, feet over the arm of the huge chair that held you inside of the common rooms of your college. Notebooks of all colors displayed messily along the table in front of you, filled with doodles of the brain, and respiratory system. You were trying to prepare yourself for your pre-med exam in two days, but you couldn’t help think about him.. How he made you touch the back-board of his bed like you was a free throw, how he spent so much time with you that you found yourself…“Little Miss Scholar” using all his lingo,how his ex-girlfriend claimed he lied when he told u he was single. The way his hands slid in between your thighs, fitting like a puzzle piece that you never knew was missing. How he always said “a sweet girl like you shouldn’t know how to fuck like this cus you fuck me like a porn star.. u sure that I’m ya only one?” How he intertwined his longer tattooed fingers with your own freshly polished ones, and squeezed tighter as he heard the mumbles of your “friends” asking “how the fuck he know her home-body ass?” How he left you in shambles everytime his tongue grazed against your clit, shutting your mouth with his hand when you got too loud in the dorms.

You felt as if your pen went dry because of your day dreaming, you scribbled on the paper attempting to gain some ink flow, but managed to get lost in your thoughts again..

The thoughts about him making you squirt, leaving the juices on his pretty white tee shirt, the same night he convinced you to make a sex tape cus he strokes himself to the bloopers..How your velvety walls clenched around his pink tip as a reward, almost as if they were saying “you lasted long babe you’re a trooper.” Gripping him, forcing him to cum inside you.. “Don’t pull out my love, make me proud n thug it out” you would whisper in his ear, running butterfly kisses along his temple. How he then massaged your clit, squeezing the fat of your thighs, while pussy drunk, muttering about how you’re a keeper..But not just because of how you fucked him senseless considering you didn’t partake in those activities, but because it was never hard to read him, to understand him. He wasn’t like everyone else, and you realized this when you didn’t automatically dislike him, it makes you feel even more confident in your relationship knowing how he always says “Baby i need ya” and not in sexual ways. He made it known that he cared about you because he changed his ways so you can mold into him, gave you room to grow and de-cluttered himself so you could use him as extra space when you needed it, when you were stressed and the burden was too much. How he always thought of you and made it obvious in everything that he did even when he didn’t realize it.

“Damn…” you thought wrapping up your daydream realizing that an hour more than passed. The suns rays danced through the huge windows, slightly blinding you almost as if it was a punishment for getting yourself distracted. Eyes peering at the still notebooks below you, waiting to be used, basically taking up dust because of your negligence. The red water bottle resting in your lap was snatched up as you took sips, ignoring the obnoxious sound of the doors opening in the comms, but off of instinct, you still looked up and made eye contact with the tall man who stood in front of the sun..As if he became your sun for a second, and as he came closer, you noticed the buzz-cut and relaxed, resting the water bottle on the table, trying to stop the smile that crept onto your face…

“Hey, can I come over? Is it okay if I stop by n see u later?”……….

↺ ᴿᴱᴾᴱᴬᵀ ‖ ᴾᴬᵁˢᴱ ≫ ᴺᴱˣᵀ ˢᴼᴺᴳ

this one if for you pook! i highlighted my fav lyrics🥸 @soulaanshere ~𝓁ℯ𝓁ℯ

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Wasted 12

Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥

The other girl (snickerdoodle) in this one is from Black Light

Part of The Club AU

Steve walks you home. He’s such a gentleman. You’re not used to that and it still makes you a bit leery. Still, the night leaves you feeling lighter. It was fun and it should keep that dealer idiot off your back. Not to mention his end of the bargain; rent is square.

You check your phone as you settle down on your lumpy mattress. Your happy Steve isn’t bold enough to want to come up. The apartment is barely worth what you pay for it. Small and shitty but it gets the job done. Only Snick has been up there and she’s not spiteful enough to judge anyone. You think she might like Steve.

Well, they won’t ever meet. As much as you enjoyed the date, you can’t keep him strung along. You’ll let him down easy at least. He may have had a chance with that lumbering drug mule hanging around.

You sigh. The first nice guy you’ve known and you won’t ever look at him without thinking of the nastiest piece of shit you’ve encountered. Besides, you’re you. You’re too rough around the edges for a guy like Steve.

You can’t help but smile as you think of the picture he drew of you. He made you look much more beautiful than real life. Yep, it could never work. You would only disappoint him.

You squint at your phone. You haven’t heard from Snick in days. You open up the chat and send yet another ‘hey, sup? Everything ok?’ Is she even seeing these? Maybe she came to her senses too. You’re just as mismatched. She’s young and bright-eyed and wonderful and you weathered and weary and bitter.

You give it twenty minutes before you shut off the light. You’re exhausted. As you close your eyes, a flush heats your body. Without meaning to, you think of Steve and his soft lips. At first sight, you wouldn’t be so enamoured but something about him is special. You know you don’t deserve that.

Sleep comes quickly. Dreams of the bus terminal and the restaurant and the flashing lights of the club intermingle in a distorted panoply of senseless scenes. You wake with the usual knot in your temple that can only be cured with coffee.

You brew it in the dingy percolator as you scroll your phone. Snickerdoodle still hasn’t answered. You’re going to go check on her. If this is over, you would like to know. You’re not even mad, she deserves friends who aren’t trashy.

And Steve deserves to know. You cringe at his good morning text. ‘I had a great time last night. Maybe we can do it again?’

How do you say it? You should do it in person but you’re not risking another run in with his buddy. You hate doing stuff like this; not turning men down, you’re a pro, no, you hate texting important shit.

You tap the call button. Maybe it’s too early but you can’t type out what needs to be said. It’s not just for you, but for him. He would be hurt if he ever found out about Bucky.

He picks up on the first ring, before you’re ready. Why didn’t you have your coffee first? You hold your forehead as he greets you with a boisterous, ‘good morning’.

“Hey, Steve,” you counter evenly, “I just got your text. Last night was... really great.”

“Yeah, it was,” he agrees in a smoky tone.

“I just figured I’d do the courtesy of saying it to you, not texting it but uh, I don’t think this is going to work out. I have a lot going on right now and I’m not looking to date,” you push out the words as a stolid silence grows on the other end, “I’m sorry, Steve.”

“B-but...” he croaks, “we had such a good time. We... we kissed.”

“I know, and it was amazing, you’re a good kisser. The next girl is going to be so lucky but Steve...” you sit up and inhale, “I’m really not the type you wanna hang out with.”

He sniffs and you hear him moving around, “it’s ‘cause of him.”

“Who?”

“Bucky. I’m not stupid. You know him somehow. You don’t like him.”

You sigh, “yeah. I don’t and he’s your friend so I can’t.”

He’s quiet again, “you two slept together. I don’t care”

“Steve, it’s... not just that.”

“It’s not fair,” he sneers.

“Steve, I’m doing you a favour. Really. I sell bus tickets, I live in a fricking slum, I am saving us both a lot of disappointment,” you insist. “So, thank you for last night. That’s the best date I’ve ever had. Truly. I hope you find someone who can give you what you need.”

“But you--”

You hang up. It hurts more than you expect. Wow.

You tap over to your chat with Snickerdoodle. You text again. Call. No answer. You’re starting to get really worried.

You put the phone down and pour yourself a cup of coffee. It’s Sunday and you have the day off. You have to figure out what to do. If you stay here, you’ll only stew in your isolation. Maybe a walk.

You finish your coffee as you pull out some clothes. A loose tank and denim shorts. Perfect for a day out in the city. Looks like it’s going to be sunny to. You finish your morning dose of caffeine and wash up. You’re not looking to draw attention, you don’t need any makeup.

You grab your purse and head downstairs, stretching as you step out into the bright daylight. Maybe you’ll find your way through Snickerdoodle’s neighbourhood. It’s only three connections on the bus. You would know.

Your name stops you short. You turn to the deep voice calling you. Steve marches down the sidewalk, scarily intense despite his stature.

“Hey, can we talk?” He strides up and stops, only a step away.

You’re too stunned to answer. You really didn’t expect this. How did he even get here so fast?

“We talked, Steve,” you breathe at last.

“You talked. I didn’t,” his blue eyes bore into you, “let me buy you a coffee. Let me make my case.”

“Steve, please, let’s not make this messy--”

“You led me on,” he accuses.

“We had a nice date, alright?” You use your customer service tone to soothe him, “didn’t we? So let’s leave it at that.”

“Why won’t you listen?” He hisses.

“Steve, you’re not listening,” you shoot back. “You can do better than me..”

“No, I can’t,” he snips, “and I don’t want to.”

You push your lips together and nod, “I’m saying no. Alright? No.” You shake your head a look away, deflated, “I didn’t think you were like him, I thought you knew what that meant.”

He says your name and you sidestep him, “wait,” he tries to grab your arm and you shrug him off, “I’m sorry, just give me another chance.”

“Leave me alone,” your voice breaks crisply, “I don’t want to make a scene.”

To your relief, he does. You hear his soles slap the pavement as he stops short and you strut off without looking back. You’re disappointed. Even if you never meant to see him again, you had some hope he wasn’t like other men.

Nope, they’re all the same. They never listen.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #skinny!steve #au #series #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #drabble #the club #wasted #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

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lesinquietes · 9 months

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Summary: Katsuki takes you to dinner. You find it difficult to keep your guard up when he’s so respectful and charming.

Adult!Bakugou x Forensic Detective!Reader

⚠️ drinking. suggestive themes. violence.

l Previous l Next l

Dinner with Katsuki is precisely what you dreamed it would be: seamless and firmly rooted in his brand of romance. He takes you to a place that serves authentic Indian food. It’s right near the station. As soon as you enter, rich aromas of masalas and spices waft past your nostrils. Immediately, you begin to salivate.

“Fuck, it smells good in here,” your date mumbles. “Can’t wait t’ dig in.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumble.

In no time, a waitress collects you at the door. She guides you to a table amongst a small crowd of people. A few of them take notice of Katsuki and whisper excitedly between each other. You gulp. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of dating a pro hero. What will publicity bring?

“Ignore ‘em.” The blonde says gruffly. “Tonight’s about me ‘n you, not any of these extras.”

You cringe. He’s certainly not afraid to voice his opinions, hoping intimidation is enough to keep gossipers at bay. Fortunately, he’s right.

You both take a seat. He sets your knapsack down on the chair next to you. The waitress hands you a couple of menus, and you take your time going through them. The table is quiet as you decide. The atmosphere is light and soothing. The nerves you felt at the start of your date are dissipating.

You order your food, as does he. A glass of wine for you, and a double of whiskey for him. The waitress scurries off to fulfill it, leaving the two of you alone again.

Your mind is racing. Breaking the ice is hard. His fiery gaze is boring into you and he doesn’t appear ready to chat anytime soon. The only thing you can focus on is the case you just solved, so you use that to toss your nervousness out the window and initiate conversation.

“S-so, I’m glad we caught him,” you stammer. “The villain, I mean. Today.”

He leans back in his chair and shrugs.

“Yeah. Piece of shit should rot in Tartarus f’r what he did.”

You nod absently. Where he’s going, you hope he isn’t able to harm anyone else. The suffering he’s caused the family of his victims is enough for one lifetime.

“Did you have trouble capturing him?”

“Nah.”

“Th-that’s good.”

“D’ya think I asked you out t’ talk about work?”

His brows are furrowed and his mouth twisted into a petite frown. You lick your lips, heat flooding your cheeks. That’s what you get for acting impulsively. Why are you so uncomfortable with silence?

“S-sorry,” you mumble, embarrassed. “I just… I guess I don’t know what else to talk about.”

Katsuki appreciates your honesty. In the past, he’s been on dates where his partner scrambled to fill the silence, eventually bringing up whatever vapid shit came to mind. He respects that you don’t fall victim to the same sort of urgency. It’s more natural this way.

“How ‘bout yourself?” He suggests. “Unless you’re tight-lipped about your personal life on dates, too.”

You laugh. At that moment, the waitress swings by with your merlot. She sets two wine glasses down and pours. You thank her and take a sip. A heavy, bitter flavour of berries greets your tongue. It’s not at all unpleasant.

“I just don’t like talking about myself at work,” you explain, putting down your glass. “And I don’t do much else these days, what with staff shortages, so I guess I’m not used to it.”

“You work harder than this stubborn bastard I know.”

He means it as a compliment. In his youth, Katsuki went through an identity crisis and blamed him for the insecurities it caused; nevertheless, his bond with Izuku has only grown in adulthood — for the better. Now, he acknowledges his conscientiousness and potential as a true hero.

“Your friends aren’t buggin’ ya?” He inquires. “If I’d known you don’t cut yourself any breaks, I’d’ve asked you out sooner.”

It’s feels nice to be fawned over. Prior to today, you had no clue he harboured such a fascination for you. Although you want to take his attraction at face value, you have your guard up. You’re not looking for friends with benefits; you’re seeking a companion in him. If he thinks he can talk sweetly to you for the purpose of getting in your pants, he’s got another thing coming.

“They know I’m busy.” You brush off his concern with a smile. “And we see each other here and there.”

He props up his elbows on the backrest of his chair and stares across the room distantly, eyes fixated on the kitchen doors. You don’t blame him; you’re starving, too. You think he’s abandoned the topic, when he speaks.

“As long as you’re not workin’ yourself into the ground. Think I’d like t’ keep seein’ ya.”

It isn’t much longer until your food arrives. The waitress sets down the dishes and utensils; then, she wishes you a good meal and excuses herself. You spend the rest of your time chatting intermittently about the flavours, sharing food between each other, and enjoying your meals. When you finish, it’s later in the evening. You’ve emptied your wine glass twice, as has he with his whiskey. You’re in good spirits.

He orders two cups of tea for dessert. As you sip, he wonders about your family and which part of town you live in. Likewise, you ask him about his development into one of the top pro heroes in Japan. You discover he doesn’t like to boast. He mentions his passion for honing his quirk and being “the best” in his youth. He describes how Best Jeanist, a former Billboard Hero, taught him to concentrate more on contained survival than reckless showing off. All in all, he keeps his story short and sweet.

It sounds like he’s been through a lot. You’re surprised someone with such an action-packed life is into you. The edgiest thing you’ve ever done was taking out a loan to attend graduate school. You thought he would have preferred another hero. Then again, the idea of seeing another forensic detective doesn’t do it for you. You’d rather leave work where it is and retire after a long day. Maybe Katsuki feels the same.

“Well?” He prompts you gruffly.

You blink absently. Did he say something while you were lost in thought? You lift a brow and hum, prompting him to clarify. He rolls his eyes playfully, picking up on how the alcohol has distracted you.

“What did’j’ya think of the meal?”

You beam at him.

“I loved it!”

“You sure? I won’t be offended.”

“Positive! I really enjoyed myself. Thank you, Katsuki.”

You catch a brief smile fluttering across his face. Just as soon as it appears, though, it’s gone. He feels like an idiot for getting flustered by something so simple, but he likes listening to you, and every syllable of his name sounds like heaven on your tongue. In his teenage years, you eliciting this sort of vulnerability would have infuriated him; as an adult, he knows how to calmly identify his emotions and reel them in.

He fucking likes you — that’s the truth. You’re bright and interesting. You encourage him engage with his thoughts and opinions, instead of dismiss them. He’s compelled to learn more about you. He gets the sense that he could converse with you for days and not get bored. You’re a rare breed.

“Ready t’ go?” He prompts you. “I’ll pay and we can head out.”

“You don’t have to pay,” you insist. “I can afford my half.”

“Fat fuckin’ chance.” He snorts. “Lemme get this this one f’r us, princess.”

You huff. Normally, you would want to pay; that way, there are no expectations for later. You’re not sure if you want to put out tonight. He’s playing all his cards right, and the tension is there, but you don’t want this to be a one night stand. When you have crushes on people, you mean them.

“Well… okay.” You concede. “But only if I can get the next one.”

“We’ll see.”

“Hey! C’mon!”

“Grab your shit an’ let’s go.”

You groan as you slip on your windbreaker and grab your knapsack. He’s already at the counter, settling the tab. Katsuki escorts you out of the building with a hand on the small of your back. In no time, you’re back on the street.

At this time of night, there aren’t many people walking around. It’s mostly other couples, pacing home or simply enjoying the evening together. The atmosphere is serene. A gentle wind tousles the leaves, adding to the tranquility. You shiver.

Katsuki walks head of you; then, he extends his hand for you to take. You do so with only a smidgen of hesitation this time, trying to trust your budding feelings for him. He reels you closer. Your palms touch his firm chest as he secures you against him. He gazes at you with a ghost of a smirk.

“So, you want there t’ be a next time?”

Reflexively, you laugh. Your face burns as you scramble to respond. You’re not used to being teased this way.

“Um… yeah. I-I guess I do.”

“No more pretendin’ you’re not inta me, then.”

“When you started flirting with me, I thought you were just bored,” you admit sheepishly. “But I k-kinda had a crush on you.”

His grip on you tightens.

“Had?”

“Have.”

“S’what I thought.”

Katsuki isn’t sure if it’s the whiskey or how easy it is to talk to you, but he feels comfortable around you. He wasn’t sure if it would translate as well outside of work — in his eyes, you had the potential to be too good for him. If you want him like he wants you, perhaps there’s a shot. Besides, you’re bound to understand his busy schedule and odd hours, what with you being in law enforcement. So what if you’re not a hero? He’s merely looking for someone he can sync up with.

“Look, I ain’t great at expressin’ my feelings ‘n shit, but I thought you were cute as soon as you showed up t’ that crime scene. Showed me you were smart, too. Down t’ earth. Not just a fuckin’ stiff in a tight skirt.”

You draw yourself into the memory. When you received the call, you arrived earlier than everyone else with your equipment. Officers were stationed around the perimeter, blocking all pedestrian points so you could do your work. Apparently, the victim was a big deal — that’s why Dynamight was assigned to your case. Half of his job was to protect you; the other half was to commence takedown of the scumbag murderer.

You thought he was annoying and pompous when he first appeared, sauntering around the scene like he was in charge. He seemed disinterested, as though he’d rather be doing something else. You didn’t love his attitude. But then, as he started to help — flirting with you, in the process — you witnessed a different side of him. Maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t care, but more so that he desensitizes himself to function.

Despite the rumours about him, you recognize that Katsuki has feelings. He gives a damn about victims and keeping civilians safe. Although he’s brash and aggressive in nature, his heart isn’t as icy as people think.

“I always thought you were handsome,” you admit shyly, averting your eyes. “Whenever I saw you on TV, I mean.”

He smirks.

“You’re not a fuckin’ super fan, are ya?”

“No!” You grin. “You’re just always on the News for breaking things, so you’re pretty hard to miss.”

He snorts. You glance at him to see if you crossed a line with your comment. Joy fills your soul when you catch him rubbing his jaw with a large hand, no doubt to hide another smile. If you were anyone else, he’d tell you to fuck off. Because you’re you, he feels his attraction to you soar.

“Shut the hell up an’ tell me when you’re free next week.”

And he seals the deal with a light peck on the cheek. He fights the urge to capture your sweet lips once more, hoping that one day, he won’t have to.

#minors dni #bakugou x forensic detective #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #pro hero bakugou #adult bakugou #bakugou x reader #afab reader #soft bakugou

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starwikia · 7 months

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suicide cw

look i have been in this area before mentally. it sucks and i wouldn’t wish this on anyone. but, and this is going to sound callous, but i don’t feel any sympathy for james somerton. even if i hope he’s like. not dead. But thats all the amount of goodwill im willing to give him. The more i think about this really, the more angry i am.

ngl this entire situation is another example of how white people weaponize their mental illness to avoid consequences. Im seeing it in real time.

this man has a continuous habit of using self-harm as a get-out-of-jail-for-free card. in both of his apologies, he has worded his supposed attempts in ways that were clearly meant to guilt people who displayed his plagiarism and overall horrendous history of racism and misogyny. i say supposed because, while i’m not saying those are lies and this would he such a fucked up thing to lie about that i don’t want to think he has, unfortunately, it’s been proven again and again that his word can’t be trusted, as he’s known to lie to try get out of consequences. Hes a proven liar. him lying about this is actually the best case scenario, because no one should go through this entire situation, wouldnt wish this on anyone, but you can only do this so often before people stop sympathizing with you. is this callous? Yeah, but like. I’m actually fucking angry he cant straight up take no as an answer. that this is how he reacts realizing he cant be one of the Cool Kidz™️ on youtube anymore. he acts like he DESERVES a career, like its not a privilege hes lost due to his own actions.

He lied about apologizing and forgiving people, he lied about giving the money to hbomberguy to give to ppl he ripped off (yknow, instead of doing it himself), he lied about the jessie gender situation and rewrote the narrative to make it so he isnt the bad guy, and hes the victim all along actually!

you can’t tell me that supposed last message of his isn’t meant to be a 13 reasons why esq attempt to deflect the blame “look i’m going to kill myself and it’s all YOUR PEOPLES FAULT for not letting me achieve my DREAM of being filmmaker IN PEACE!!! I just wanted Nick’s (the guy who I have thrown under the bus again and again) portfolio up!! Im just being a good friend dont you all FEEL BAD” he refuses to take ANY ACCOUNTABILITY of any of his actions and he IS STILL trying to shove the blame over to other people again.

it’s also pretty ironic people are like “uhhh well hbomber’s fans harassed him!!!” like hbomber outright told people NOT to HARASS JAMES!!! ALSO acting as if james doesn’t have a very real documented history of STRAIGHT UP sending his fans to harass and threaten smaller creators, more notably women, trans, and bipoc creators. especially after he’s stolen typically very personal anecdotes so he could profit from them. so why can he do it but the second people are like “hey this guys an actual piece of shit.” and he can’t handle it suddenly people are trying to white knight his shit? like no he doesn’t get that. he doesn’t get that at all just because he couldn’t handle the consequences of his actions.

what? were supposed to stay quiet about a man profiting off of other minorities because he wanted to be the spokesman for all gay people? people tried to solve this on a smaller, more private scales for YEARS and he kept doing it. it was clear that the giant public video was the ONLY way to get people to notice. HE WOULDVE GOTTEN AWAY WITH STEALING 87 FUCKING THOUSANDS WORTH OF DOLLARS. HE CANT HANDLE THE FACT HE CANT GET AWAY WITH IT.

am i supposed to feel bad for the guy who basically threatened a trans woman with the police? i don’t care what anyone says, it’s so fucking obvious that he threatened jessie by implying he was getting the police involved in their conflict. what am i supposed to act like that didn’t happen? are we supposed to pretend like he didn’t glorify nazi’s and outright said that gay people made up a good chunk of the nazis? That he didnt say america joined ww2 bc they were jealous of the NAZIS. WHAT WOULD POSSESS YOU TO FUCKING SAY THAT. but then? He gives women (not even women most of the time, he misgenders nonbinary ppl constantly) shit for writing mlm. are we supposed to act like he doesn’t straight-up sees himself superior and better than people of color and steals their works to put himself on a pedestal? Are we supposed to act like he didnt spit on our elders by saying “only the boring gays survived aids” like man! Fuck you! He BLANTANTLY MAKES UP HISTORY TO PUT HIMSELF ON A PEDESTAL!! HE ACTIVELY TRIED TO REWRITE LGBT HISTORY TO SUIT HIS FUCKED UP NARRATIVES!

yes this sucks ! no one deserves this but no one should be making him a martyr. Thats what he fucking WANTS! He wants to be immortalized as a victim!! (again, supposedly, it was reported hes alive but its not confirmed).

The shit he got isnt near the amount of fucking callous behavior hes done again and again. Again, to drill this point, EVEN IF HE DIDNT CALL THE POLICE HE THREATENED A TRANS WOMAN INTO THINKING HE DID!!! The fact he tried to use a head injury to justify years of the outright ghoulish shit fucking astounds me. Why the fuck did anyone in his life thought it was a good idea to let him TRY to come back. in the end, he had options. he didn’t need to try to make a comeback. HE DIDNT NEED TO FUCKING LIE OR IGNORE THE SHIT HE WAS CALLED OUT ON the reality is, he wanted to come back thinking he could shove it under the rug, was told that no dude, you’re not allowed to be a youtuber anymore. you’re done. you need to move on and went full nuclear. it’s not on anyone’s hands but his own. HES BEEN DOING THIS TO HIMSELF!! But nah man we cant call his shit out bc hell may or may not kill himself. Fuck the other minorities who have the same issues but worse and sometimes BECAUSE of him. This is going to SUCKKKK so bad when other ppl, specifically white gays, are going to weaponize this shit to get away with their stuff.

#warning: do not read this post if you want me to be nice to james somerton. i am extremely mean in this post.#before anyone accuses me of shit i legit never contacted him myself or anyone involved. i am someone who witnessed this behavior repeatedly #again. i hope hes alive and well. the fact is him lying about this WOULD BE THE IDEAL SITUATION. BC NO ONE SHOULD GO THROUGH THAT. but.#he HAS to forever be the victim in his eyes. attempting doesnt automatically mean youre free of sin.#its just terrible to see that regardless whether or not he did do it #its very clear his attempts to run away from his consequences are working on some people #we need to acknowledge that if your shitty ex friend can weaponize a threat to kill themselves #so can this internet person after being called out for horrendous shit #like what was the alterative? what were people supposed to fucking do? be nice about it?#yeah as if poc and trans women arent historically given shit for being 'too mean' about wanting justice.#this isnt just the plagiarism this is the fact a white dude has been parading himself as THE speaker for the gays(tm) but has been using hi #gayness to shield himself from his misogyny racism transphobia and antisemitism #its very clear regardless this means that ppl r going to side with him and then give him benefit of doubt #if you cant handle the heat stay out of the fucking kitchen dude. this is the consequences of your fucking actions.#hes a disgusting person who cant handle being told no so hes going to drag everyone down with him #like. idk this entire situation is frustrating to me.#its also frustrating ppl trying to be moral abt it like 'see! i knew this was bad all along!' no you didnt. shut it.#for the record im like mainly talking abt twit watching those spineless uwu cutesy ppl basically saying hes done noting wrong #oh and also alt righters who are clearly weaponinizing this where u know they wouldnt give a shit if a right ytber did this.#james somerton #idk might delete this later its just. ugh...

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cgcgs43046 · 1 month

Text

MEET BLITZØ! PT. I (II will be appearance/trivia/outfits)

VA: Eric André

Age: 34

Blitzø, also known as Blitzo (deadname), is the founder and manager of I.M.P. Hailing from the Greed Ring, he is an ambitious demon who is a hybrid of an incubus and an imp. He is renowned as one of the most dependable and sought-after assassins in Hell. Blitzø is the founder and manager of Immediate Murder Professionals (I.M.P), an assassination business located in Imp City within the Pride Ring. The company specializes in targeting humans on Earth.

Traits

Snarky

Sarcastic

Rude

Troublemaker

Murderous

Insecure

Reckless

Sleazy

Seductive/Alluring/Slinky

Tsundere

Godlike

Chaos Incarnate

Greedy

Personality

Blitzø exudes the traits of both a demon and an assassin, exuding malice, sinister charm, and a dangerous aura. With an uncanny blend of musical theater flair, circus spectacle, and a penchant for bloodshed, he’s a chaotic force of nature. Antagonistic and unpredictable, he delights in provoking those around him, often employing sarcasm and vitriol to disarm his opponents. While driven by a desire to build a successful assassination company, his shortsighted ego and insatiable lust frequently derail his ambitions. Beneath his brash exterior lies a complex character, attempting to redeem himself for a mysterious seraph. His fearlessness and elusiveness make him a formidable adversary, though his thinking of lust rather than logic can lead to his very downfall.

While less vulgar than his original character (the show's excessive swearing has grown tiresome), he can be emotionally volatile, leading to occasional raw outbursts. However, he is quick to apologize and take responsibility for his actions. Preferring direct confrontation, he would rather people address their issues with him openly than resort to passive-aggressive behavior.

He assumes the role of an overbearing father figure with his employees and daughter, but his interactions with them are not tainted by perversion. His romantic interests lean towards individuals closer to him. However, he exhibits extreme hostility towards outsiders and displays no hesitation in resorting to theft from the rich is known for deceiving his clients, seeking ways to extract every last piece of money from them, a practice he justifies as essential for survival. He cherishes his newfound 'family' and staunchly defends them, yet internal conflicts arise due to his favoritism. In the early days of the company, he was hypersexual to a disturbing degree, excessively greedy (resulting in underpayment of Millie and Moxxie), and exhibited possessiveness towards those he favored, manifested in his suffocating behavior towards Loona and his tendency to stalk Moxxie to eavesdrop on his music, but nothing more, claiming he isn't interested in "vanilla shit". While some of these traits persist in the present, Blitzø has tempered his behavior to some extent.

Another facet of his personality was that of a 'shoulder devil,' constantly offering terrible advice. His suggestions, requests, and demands, no matter how innocuous or absurd, should never be taken at face value by a prudent person... this side of him was very common when he was a teenager.

He does, however, possess more negative, jaded facets to his personality. He insults others, is generally a jerk, and isn't shy about it. Blitzø is more jovial, acting charming and playful even during insults. For instance, the pilot's line about Moxxie crushing his dreams could be accompanied by a childish pout and chuckle. He treats everything like a joke, creating an ambiguity about his sincerity. Even as a child, he was ambitious, determined to prove imps' capabilities as businessmen. This stems from a self-consciousness about needing others to succeed.

Blitzø, despite his brash exterior, is a complex character driven by deep-seated insecurities. His confident façade masks a fragile ego, shaped by past failures and the shadow of his more successful ex-girlfriend, Verosika Mayday. A failed solo venture exposed his reliance on others, fueling a fear of inadequacy and loneliness. This fear manifests in defensive behavior and a tendency to push people away, even as he craves companionship. His history of manipulation, particularly with Verosika, reveals a darker side, where he exploited her affections for personal gain. While he has distanced himself from her, the scars of their toxic relationship continue to influence his actions and relationships. He is very complex; capable of warmth and remorse, yet often hindered by laziness and an inability to express his emotions. His history of failed relationships, particularly the tumultuous one with Stolas, has made him guarded and wary of intimacy. Desperate to escape his current situation, he's not only considering his own well-being but also that of his employees and friends, whose trust he's worked hard to rebuild. While he's made progress, Blitzø still struggles with deep emotional connections and often defaults to more superficial interactions.

He can also be a laid-back and carefree individual. When he's not entangled in business deals with sinners, facing his past, or navigating his relationship, he often enjoys life to the fullest. This includes partying, drinking, smoking, and spending time with the one of the people he loves the most...

TLDR/notes: I just honestly wanted to take out the more questionable humor (like "I'mma rape M&M" or misogynistic stuff like "tits" that was unfortunately used thanks to the show's mediocre writing and creators so I made him be more sarcastic and inherently evil but capable of emotions honestly and with a deeper voice so I chose Eric André! :D I also looked at one of the beat-boards and I also wanted to give him more agency as a character... not some hot self-insert or "garbage disposal" or a shitty person for not falling in love with a creepy rich r*pist:

And I kinda feel robbed for the show giving him a striped tongue like Mammon or Fizz to show he's actually from Greed or half-Greed.

As shown in these images here:

I wanted to give some extra horror factors to the demons as well to actually show them as scary, not all of them being "uwu twinks" or "hawt gays"! 😡

Also, I will be making Stolas evil in my rewrite but he won't be getting his own character sheet...

Ok, that's pretty much it for now! Questions can go in my ask blog ;) Asks are open!

Bye~! :D

#helluva boss critique #helluva boss rewrite #anti helluva boss #anti stolas #anti stolitz #helluva boss critical

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silverofthunder · 3 months

Text

☆ the prisoner ☆

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader || 🔞 MDNI 🔞

summary: Bying an abandoned house in the middle of the nowhere had seemed like a good idea. But as the nightmares came to plague your dreams, you started slowly to realize that the place you had thought would be a calm, safe haven to you, was anything but that.

content/warnings: 5k words, mystery (kind of), evil demonic creature!Copia, demonic powers, emotional manipulation, nightmares, self-harming, vomiting, non-con vibes, hurt (with minimal comfort), suicidal thoughts, kind of dark & twisted romance, obsessive & possessive behavior

⚫!! this fic might disturbing as there is no nice things happening; Copia is pure evil in this, so if there's something triggering, i suggest you don't read this !! ⚫

I don't know what got into me but I got this idea of something really dark and this piece was born. I've never written anything like this but oh, how fun it was to just go wickedly wild with this. Evil!Copia might own me after this. I'm also kinda scared to post this but hey, this is a work of fiction so... I went to straight into the deep end. Hope that some of you like this!

You should have known it wasn’t a good idea. Bying an abandoned house that was in the middle of nowhere must have been your first idea that was actually the worst. Not that you knew it until it was too late.

But the house had looked so cool – it had something that called you right from the very fist time you saw a picture of it. But when you actually saw it with your eyes, you knew you had to get it and after a few weeks you got the announcement that it was yours. You were so happy when you got the keys and could finally start planning some renovations that needed to be done. You didn’t want to change too much as the house had some character and it didn’t take that long until you could finally stay there.

You enjoyed the quietness, the surrounding forest – after living in a bigger town for several years, it felt like a heaven to finally be able to breathe some fresh air and not feel the rush that seemed to always be present in town. However, after a while you couldn’t help but notice how it was almost too quiet. Despite that the forest was right there, you rarely heard birds or any other animal sounds, the fog there seemed to get thicker even though it wasn’t even autumn yet.

And one night when you stood on the porch, smoking a cigarette, your eyes caught something right on the line of your yard and the forest. The fog made it hard to see properly but it resembled a shape of a man. You stared at it for a while, your heart beating a little quicker in your chest, and then you took a long drag of your cigarette and closed your eyes. You let out the smoke and when you eventually opened your eyes, the man – or whatever it was – was gone.

Maybe it was just your imagination making some stupid shit up. It wouldn’t be a surprise as the place like this could easily get your imagination go wild. Or who knew, maybe someone from the nearest town had heard that someone had bought the house and was now just messing with you a little.

You shook the silly thoughts from your mind and finished smoking your cigarette before going back inside and to your bedroom. You placed your phone on the night stand and slipped under the blankets with a sigh. The sleep became fast and was followed by the dream.

You stood frozen in place, the fog around you so thick you barely see the path you were walking on. The air felt heavy and almost… suffocating. Your head turned side to side and then you heard a rustle and caught something in the corner of your eye on your left. Slowly you turned to look at whatever was there and as soon as your eyes settled on the dark figure, definitely in the shape of a man, you wanted to run. Something within you was screaming ’run’ but your legs wouldn’t obey you. You gasped for air as the man stepped closer to you and now you saw that he had… claws? And something was dripping from those claws.

Blood.

You swallowed, your heart now beating rapidly in your chest, pure fear settling deep within you. And in the next moment you heard a sound that was like a laugh but it made your blood run cold and your skin crawl in the most unpleasant way and then the man – or creature – was gone.

Copia was delighted to know that someone had finally bought the old house. He had now a chance to finally get what he had longed for so long… But he had to be careful at first. Keep a distance, then start slowly to worm his way into the mind of the resident. It shouldn’t be hard to break in and make them realize where they now belonged. To whom they belonged.

A wicked smile rose to Copia’s lips as he looked at the porch, the person standing there, smoking a cigarette. They seemed calm but Copia could sense there were some uneasiness in their bones. It would only be a matter of time before that would turn into a fear, a proper terror and Copia could hardly wait that.

Days went by and Copia watched closely over the person. He was the shadow in the darkest corner, following every movement they made. And their dreams… He had to get into them, make them darker. That way it would be easier to lure them into his world. Eternal darkness was lonely but he knew how to fight against that. He didn’t need to be alone.

Now as he watched the sleeping person, he flexed his clawed fingers, wanting to go and touch them. But it wasn’t time for that, not yet. Instead he inhaled deeply, that oddly sweet scent hitting his nose instantly and he let out a low growl. It was a bit too sweet, it needed to be sharpened.

You threw cold water over your face and dried it with a towel, then looking your face in the mirror. There were slight dark circles around your eyes telling that you hadn’t gotten enough sleep. For a few weeks you hadn’t slept that well as the nightmares had been disturbing you. It was always the same kind of atmosphere in those dreams – distressing, heavy, threatening. And in the middle of it was always the same man, or creature.

With a sigh you set the towel aside and walked to you work room, opening the upper drawer of your desk and took the old, worn-out diary out of it. You had found it a few days earlier in the attic, secured into a box. The lock had been so rusty it had opened easily and so you had gotten the access to the diary. At first you thought you didn’t want to find out what was written in it but eventually your curiousity had won and you had started to read it.

It had been hard to read, the handwriting being quite messy but you had been able to make out some sentences and words.

A demonic creature in the house. Nightmares. Scratches on the skin. The feeling that someone is watching you all the time.

Some of those sounded familiar. Especially the feeling that someone was watching you. At first you had brushed that feeling off but now that it had gotten even more stronger, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. But you didn’t know what you could do to it so you tried to just go on. Whatever was there… Well, maybe you would eventually found it out.

Nightmares was another thing you could sign. A demonic creature didn’t really ring a bell but there was some creature in your dreams so maybe it was that? Or did that mean the one watching you was a demonic creature? You didn’t know if you believed in those – you couldn’t believe in anything you hadn’t seen, right?

Scratches on the skin. Those you hadn’t seen – yet and it was terrifying. What would it mean when they appeared? That someone was actually there, in the house, with you? So many questions but so little answers. You opened the diary, searching for the last page that contained writing, the last words…

Leave before it’s too late.

That was written much clearer and repeated a few times until it all turns into a mix of red and black. Blood and ink, maybe. Something in your stomach turned as you thought of what might have happened to whoever had written the diary. Then you closed the diary, setting it on the desk before sitting down on the chair and opening your laptop.

You had googled your house before, obviously, but you hadn’t really paid much attention to other stuff beside the sales ad. You typed the place into the search bar and started going through the results.

Missing people, no bodies found. Stories of the ’man of the forest’ and several mentions of demon that lived in the house. You weren’t exactly surprised but the results definitely didn’t ease your nerves. Which ones those things were actually true and which ones were only made up, that you couldn’t tell.

Suddenly a loud, screeching sound interrupted you and you almost fell from your chair as you turned to look at the window. A shiver run down your spine as you saw long, clawed fingers scraping the glass. Your heartbeat rang in your ears as you stared how the claws dissappear from your sight. Then you waited and waited, tried to listen if you could hear anything else, something unusual. But you couldn’t.

Only quietness was left.

You breathed deeply in and released the breath slowly, then shook your head. Maybe your tired mind was starting to really play tricks on you. It had happened before so why would this time be any different?

Copia was smiling widely, walking towards the person who now leaned against the tree, eyes wide with fear, the smell of fear strong around them. Copia flashed his fangs, extending his hand and wrapping his clawed fingers around the person’s throat.

”Mmmh, such a delicious sight you are,” he purred venomously, leaning closer to the person who let out a miserable cry, squeezing their eyes shut. That sound made Copia hum pleased and he tightened his hold around the person’s throat.

”Burns,” the person croaked out, tears spilling from their eyes and Copia only chuckled darkly.

”Shhh, it won’t hurt long.”

He did enjoy seeing his preys hurting. But this one was no ordinary prey, no. This one was something else. Something so much better. He then released the person’s throat, his eyes falling to the red marks on the skin and ran one claw over it, the touch making the person sob and twitch. Copia licked his lips, moving his fingers under the person’s jaw and tapping the skin with his claws.

”Open your eyes,” he asked but the person gave just a little shake of head. Copia grabbed a hold of their jaw, repeating the words with a growl. The person finally obeyed, opening their eyes and Copia’s smile grew pleased.

”That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The person didn’t say anything, just stared at him with watery eyes and Copia could hear their heart beating rapidly. He could sense how much they wanted to run away, as far as they could get from him. They couldn’t run, though, as Copia didn’t want them to. On rare occasions he allowed the preys to run but it was more fun like this – when all they could do was stand frozen in place and take whatever treatment Copia offered.

And usually the treatment they got was far from pretty.

”What are you?” The person’s voice was barely audible and they looked like they had almost given up. Accepted their fate, whatever that might be. Copia chuckled, squeezing the person’s jaw.

”Your worst nightmare.”

You stopped by the small cafe when you were driving back to your house. It was kind of strangely cozy with its slightly worn-out table-chair sets and with a decor that you could only describe as witchy. You bought a coffee and a little piece of chocolate cake and went to sit in the corner, near the window.

There weren’t that many people in but you couldn’t help but notice that a few of them seemed to look at you curiously and then whispering something to whoever was sitting beside them. It was a small town where most of the people probably knew each other, at least by face, and you hadn’t visited the places in there for many times so people probably didn’t recognize you.

You tried to ignore the staring, moving your gaze out the window. The clouds seemed to be darker, the blue sky disappearing behind them – most likely it would soon start to rain. The leaves in the trees were also starting to change their color, the red, yellow and orange blending into the green, and you couldn’t wait to see the nature in its autumn glory. You could imagine how beautiful the forest would look from your porch.

”Monster lives in your house.”

You got startled by the voice and turned to see a little girl standing close by, looking at you with wide eyes. Beside her was supposedly her mother who offered you an awkward smile. You smiled at her back before turning your attention back to the little girl.

”I don’t believe in monsters,” you said as politely as you could, and the girl blinked, shaking her head.

”Not all of them are real but the one in your house is.”

What the--? You let out a sigh, taking a sip from your coffee and the mother of the girl took her hand.

”Sorry, she is a bit… meddlesome,” the mother said, making a face at that and you gave a small wave of a hand. That wasn’t the first time someone said something like that about your house. Despite not visiting the town much, the whispers still had reached your ears.

You quickly finished your coffee and the cake, exiting the cafe and walking to your car as fast as you could. When you got inside, you slammed your forehead against the wheel, letting out a string of curses. You were tired, confused and a bit afraid. People weren’t exactly wrong – you knew there was someone in your house, at least part of the time. But who, that was still a mystery to you.

Copia dragged his claws along the wall, watching the person flinch and turn their head from side to side, eyes wide before walking over to another wall and doing the same, this time much slower. The person’s eyes settled onto the marks, mouth hanging open in shock and Copia could sense the question burning on their tongue.

He waited, patiently, but for his disappointment the person stayed quiet. They squeezed their hands into fists, anger replacing the shock on their face as they stormed off to another room. Copia followed close by, seeing how the person grabbed the old diary from the desk drawer and sat down on the bed, opening it.

Copia recognized that diary. Remembered how he had watched it to be written. The owner had suffered greatly until the very last day. It had been such a fun game. To drive the poor one mad and then strike when they had least expected it.

Copia smiled at the memory, still fresh in his mind.

”Stupid diary!” Copia chuckled at the person’s frustration as they went through the pages. ”Why can’t you give me any clear answers?”

He walked closer to the person, stopping right beside them, and thought of forcing them to look at him. The power he would feel when the person would gaze up at him, fear clear in their eyes, a weak plea on their lips. He imagined how he would run his claws along those pretty features, rip those clothes off and reveal the body underneath, admire it before marking it as his.

He was almost touching the person as he broke out of his reverie, and backed off a few steps. It was hard to keep control when something so delicious was right before him. But he didn’t want to ruin his chance – if things went right, he could be able to feast from this for a very long time. A little more time was all he needed.

The dreams, nightmares, had turned into more sexual ones and whenever you woke up, you were feeling so strange that you were sure you were starting to lose your mind. It wasn’t the only odd thing, though, there was also the red scratch marks that now marred your skin, mostly on your neck and arms but a few times you had spotted them on your hips and thighs.

They were real, lingering on your skin for days.

In resent nightmares you had seen the man, the creature, finally revealing himself from the shadows as he used your body to his own fun. Before he had been just a shape, like a black smoke-kind of thing and now he had a face of a man, covered with black and white paint, other eye seeming very human-like while the other glowed inhumanly white. Fingers with long claws, sharp fangs that was revealed whenever he had that wicked, predatoric smile on.

And his voice… That deep growl, it seemed to nest into you in a way that made you want to rip your skin off. He might have looked partly like a human but it was clear that he wasn’t a human. No human could ever make you feel like that. There was something so dark in him, no sign of kindness in his eyes when he had looked at you while your bodies had been slotted together in what should have been a pleasurable heaven.

To you it had been hell.

You took a pillow and pressed in against your face, screaming into it as you had done several mornings. It helped a little but not enough. You felt dirty in the worst way possible and went to shower quickly, trying to scrub him off of your skin, of your memory. The scratch marks stung but you didn’t stop scrubbing until some of them started to bleed.

With a head hung low you watched how the water turned to pink, disappearing eventually to the drain. After stepping out of the shower and drying yourself, you looked for some ointment and applied it upon the worst of the scratch marks. You did your best to avoid focusing on your image in the mirror and got dressed quickly, feeling slightly better when most of those ugly marks on your skin disappeared from your sight.

You went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for something to eat. You weren’t that hungry as the images of your dreams made you feel nauseous but you still had to eat something. You made yourself a sandwhich and sat down on the nearest chair to eat it. A few days old newspaper was on the table and your eyes landed on the small headline on the left corner.

A missing person found dead in the woods

The body had been found near the other town and the police had apparently arrested someone that they thought had been behind it. So far there hadn’t been any disturbing news regarding the area where you lived but for some reason you believed that people might just keep their mouths shut if they saw something unusual happening. Hell, that was what you were now doing.

But the thing was… If you had talked about this all to someone, would they have believed you?

With a sigh, you continued munching your sandwhich, focusing your gaze somewhere at the opposite wall. It was a quiet morning, as usual – too quiet. At first it had been so relaxing and welcomed but now it only seemed to be a sign of something bad, something that still mostly hid in the shadows. You could feel the heaviness upon you, a force that seemed to grow darker every day.

A sudden tightening in your stomach made you froze for a moment and you dropped the rest of your sandwhich onto the table. The nausea had come back with a force and now you had to rush into bathroom and bend over the toilet to empty your stomach. Tears spilled into your eyes as you finally slid to the floor after you were sure nothing more came up.

You drew your legs closer, wrapping your arms around them and burying your head between your knees. Sobs jolted your body and you cried until you just couldn’t anymore. On the outside you looked like a mess, you had no much energy to do things and internally you were screaming.

Screaming into the void where no one could hear you.

Poor thing, Copia thought as he watched the person trying to tame the vines that had grown too big on the side of the house. They had fallen down a few times and Copia could sense that their strength had lessened. He flashed a pleased smile as he knew that his moment to shine was about to come soon. The poison was already rooted within them, slowly spreading, consuming them.

Copia went closer, leaning against the wall, eyes glued to the person who let out a frustrated grunts every once in a while as they cut the vines and pulled them off. Their shirt hung on them loosely, much loosely than it had sometime ago, the red marks on their skin now more prominent. They healed slower even though the person had put some kind of ointment on them.

With every passing day the beauty of the person grew and Copia was fully entranced. Meddling with dreams had been fun and all but the best part was yet to come and he couldn’t wait for it. It was a different thing to be the plague of the dreams than to be the nightmare of the reality. Though, for the person, the line between the dream and reality had already gotten blurry.

Copia hummed and the placed his claw against the wooden wall, slowly carving a long line onto it, and watched how the person’s head turned right towards him. The look in their eyes barely had any shock or surprise in them as they stared right at him. Of course, they couldn’t see him unless he wanted them to but still, their eyes were straight on him, then moving to the carved line.

With a weak laugh and a shrug, they returned back to their work and Copia continued watching them, his mind already wandering to what was to come. How his work would soon be complete. Step by step the eternal darkness was starting to feel less lonely. Soon he would have a companion to share it all.

He could already feel the power that he would possess after the union was complete.

Mine, mine, MINE.

The voice sounded so real and you blinked your eyes open, your vision blurry for a while. You shook your head, breathing heavily and soon you heard that voice again, the sound of it so loud you jumped straight up from the bed.

”This isn’t funny anymore! Whoever you are, stop messing with me!”

You knew it wouldn’t probably help but you had to do something. An echo of an evil laugh came somewhere behind you and you turned to look at there, seeing nothing.

”Leave me alone!” Your voice sounded thin and weak and tears burned in your eyes. You were so desperate for this all to end. This nightmare had to end.

There was a wind-like sound and then the same voice was whispering something right into your ear – or that was how it felt.

Run, run, RUN.

As the last word came out, your legs worked like an automatic and despite the weakness in your muscles, they carried you downstairs and out of the house. The cold night hit your skin immediately as you were wearing only an oversized t-shirt and your underwear. You didn’t look back as you run, heading straight towards the forest, the thick fog surrounding you as soon as you reached it.

You wanted to stop but no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t. Tears were now blurring your vision and you could barely breathe as you legs led you even deeper into the forest. And then it felt like you collided with an invisible wall, cutting your way and sending you to the ground. Soon the same evil laugh reached your ears, making your gut twist and you knew whatever was coming, couldn’t be anything good.

A figure of a man stepped into your line of vision from the shadows and the closer he got, the more details you started to see. You recognized him – it was the same man, or creature, from your dreams. The black and white paint on his face, the glowing inhuman white eye, fangs and claws. You couldn’t do anything than sit there, on the ground, frozen, a huge wave of dread swirling inside you. The closer the creature got, the more… powerless you started to feel, like someone was trying to shrink you.

You knew instantly that there wasn’t anything kind in that creature. Everything around him screamed danger and evil, as well as the way his eyes seemed to flash when he kneeled down and placed one of his clawed fingers under your jaw.

”Finally we meet in person, my darkest one,” he spoke, his voice making cold shivers run down your spine. You swallowed, then drew in a short breath, your whole body starting to shake as you fought against the mysterious force that kept you stuck in there.

”Oh, poor thing,” the creature cooed mockingly, slowly dragging his claw along your throat. ”There’s no point in fighting. You can’t go anywhere unless I let you.”

The smile that rose to the creature’s lips, didn’t leave anything unclear and you were starting to realize that maybe your nightmare hadn’t even started properly yet.

”Let me go,” you said through your teeth, and that only made the creature chuckle wickedly, his fingers wrapping around your throat as he leaned closer. He mouth was so close to your lips and you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for his next move. Your nails dug into the ground as you soon felt a pair of lips pressing against the corner of your mouth.

The kiss burned and you let out a scream, though it sounded so weak in your own ears. The creature’s hum echoed all around you as his hold around your throat tightened.

”I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

That was the last thing you heard before the darkness filled your mind.

Your whole body felt like being on fire as you finally got a part of your consciousness back. Everything hurt and you could only make out a figure hovering above you and the blurry surroundings. You were inside the house, in your bedroom, on your bed, completely naked.

”Shhh, it won’t hurt soon,” the creature spoke as he run his hand along your body, and you writhed underneath him. His voice was far from comforting.

Nothing had ever hurt so much. It was blinding, the burn slowly crawling under your skin. And all you wanted was it to end, you would do anything to make it end.

”Please, make it stop,” you cried out, tears flowing as it all was too much. Lips pressed against your cheek, claws digging into your hip and it only made it all worse. The creature took it slow, he wanted you to suffer, he enjoyed seeing you in pain. The chuckle he let out after another burn wave hit you, was pleased.

It was slowly sinking in that this all had been just a fun game to him. That he had pulled the strings right from the start and you hadn’t been able to do anything but to play along. This had been his goal all along, to use you as he wished, mentally and physically. There would be no way out of this nightmare anymore.

You wished you could die. That would surely end the suffering.

”Oh, I like the way you think but sadly that’s not my plan,” the creature said, his lips fanning over your marred skin on your chest and something within you shattered.

So you were getting the worst fate one could think of.

”Mine… You’ll mine,” the creature continued, his voice seeming to ooze more power with every word. ”You’ll help me to rule the darkness, the shadows.”

You drew in sharp breaths as the creature’s lips found your most sensitive parts of your body and you felt the nausea twist in your stomach. He growled as you writhed, some wicked pleasure blending with the disgust as your body reacted to his touch. It was wrong, so wrong. You grabbed a fistful of sheets, the burn spreading all over you again, the pillow under your head feeling damp from all the tears you had shed.

”Do you want me to take you?”

No, you wanted to say but that wasn’t what came out of your mouth.

”Yes.”

And in the next moment, he entered your body, claiming you as his. The pain only got worse but it lasted only for a moment, being soon replaced by something that you couldn’t describe. It wasn’t pain but it was far from pleasure, too. You felt something flowing into you – something purely evil, conquering you, filling your every cell with darkness.

There was no gentleness, only harsh movements as the creature defiled your body. You wanted to scream but it was only possible in your mind, the echo of it mixing with the moan escaping from your mouth in reality.

Or was this even the reality, you didn’t know. And it didn’t matter whether this was a dream or reality as the nightmare was still there, in the form of this creature that looked too much like a man. A handsome man that surely would have caught your attention if you had seen him somewhere in town.

A devil in disguise, spreading his poison into you and bounding you to him.

As his eyes finally met yours, you knew that there was no point of return. This house, the place you had thought would be your safe haven, had now become a cage and the man, the creature above you, in you, was a predator. A predator who loved to play with his preys. But you weren’t a prey, no, you were something much worse.

A prisoner, his prisoner – maybe even some kind of a spouse – for as long as he wished.

#papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

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