#i was stuck between nothing to write and everything to write for this rip | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

im-poe-dameron · 3 months

Note

Okay last one I swear "You want me. I was inside you. I tasted you. That is a truth you will never escape." with… do I even need to say his name?? RAT BOI QIMIR

DARKNESS WITHIN

a/n: the way i was determined to write this. my laptop committed itself to death and i hand wrote this until i got a new battery. but anything to appease the current brain rot that has overtaken me. i love that we have a feral sith again. rip maul and revan you would have been obsessed with our boi.

summary: balance - the power of light and dark and everything that lingered between. a truth you held onto tightly for fear of losing yourself. but when false hope begins to fade and power tastes sweeter on your tongue than truth, you're left with what remains.

word count: 3.5k+

pairing: qimir x f!reader; the stranger x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, angst, lightsaber battle written messily, corruption, corruption kink, cumplay, choking, dubcon (possibly but just in case), the arc of a fallen jedi.

Petrichor lingered in the air as you stepped off metal and down into the soft soil below. The holomap still glowed inside your small ship. Illuminating the darkened space with a familiar blue you’d caught yourself staring at while the cold temperatures from hyperspace sunk into your skin. The name listed beneath caused your heart to leap into your mouth—the bitterness of him stuck to your tongue.

Eriadu.

An unknown jungle planet along the outer rim. The last place you expected to visit.

The cover of darkness and clouds blocked even the moon’s soft gleam. Your hand twitched, fingers stretching inadvertently to your lightsaber attached to your hip. From where you could see, the soft silver practically held its own light. As if to tell you this was not a path you walked alone—you would not carry the heaviness of your heart in solitude.

If you focused long enough, you could practically feel the leather grip along your fingertips. The urge to flick the switch and bring forth the comforting teal you’d come to rely on, nearly overtook you. But darkness was your ally on a hunt this straining.

For weeks you’d traveled between planets, digging for any information. A piece of a map that would eventually lead you here.

Though the one you sought out remained unknown, similar to the far reaches of the galaxy, you somehow managed to pick up a trace of him. Of the Force signature that nearly burned its way through your own. Where you expected a shimmer of light, a void of nothing welcomed you. Begged you for a sliver of company: in the hopes that you wouldn’t be able to resist.

The feeling sunk down into your nerves, echoing in your chest even now. A song you wouldn’t soon forget—yet craved to hear more of.

Darkness remained a Jedi’s sole enemy. Even while the tantalizing remnants of something so forbidden threatened to unravel you. The threads you kept a tight hold of were now frayed. And the more time passed, the more you felt his pull. The way his fingers had gripped you tight—leaving invisible marks you’d trace later in your mind. Shards of that cataclysmic emotion which tumbled through you like a tidal wave.

Jedi weren’t meant for this. For silent hopes kept in secret—the yearning for more clawing at your insides. Attachment held many names and you’d seen its power. Yet this…was raw uninhibited need. A hunger for his flesh, his mouth, his taste, for words that spilled so carelessly. But held enough freedom for you to grasp.

You weren’t stupid. You could see the breadth of his power that lingered under the surface. The signature of something foreign, something ancient.

That alone should have sent fear curling around your spine, stiffening your movements. You were taught as a padawan that Jedi fear nothing. They were the symbol of peace; a beacon of hope for the galaxy to look towards.

No matter how much you tried to fight it, that didn’t rid you of the way your body practically flinched at each sound. Your throat, tight and unforgiving the longer you trekked into the forest.

You knew the terror housed in your body didn’t stem from the thought of facing him. The realization bled through your heart the longer you were out there—you were going against the code you promised to uphold the day you were knighted. A vow that would one day cost you your life. But thus was the price to pay for knowledge, for training, for a purpose. Betrayal from another Jedi was a blow to everything your faith centered around. And what you thought was merely a faint blistering second of desire, fanned the flames of something worse.

A searing ache that refused to be ignored.

Your boots sunk into the ground with every step. Clear footprints now marked into the soil for anyone to follow. Forgoing your robes on the ship, you did what you could to look like a passerby. Someone here for peace and a stolen moment of tranquility. Hopefully they wouldn’t spot the heavy breaths you took, or the way your body was wracked with a type of suffering you weren’t used to: guilt.

Trees engulfed your line of vision, blocking what you hoped was a path. Instead you were left with a vacant hole in the Force.

What once was loud—the embodiment of chaos—suddenly fell silent.

As if it never existed at all.

“You’re still here,” you murmured, eyes falling shut. The pulse of your own heart filled your senses. A reverberation that grounded you to the planet below. “I can feel you.”

Sucking in a lungful of air, you allowed everything else to melt away. The trees, the earth, the glow of the moon. Until you were left with the steady thump, thump, thump, that rang in your chest. The inky black mess of darkness shrouded your vision; hindering what you could reach. Forgoing a river blocking your only way forward.

You did what you could to push through it. Past the barriers of good and evil; beyond life itself. Until you reached the middle, the balance of everything that lingered between.

Your own soft blue green signature wrapped around your body, acting as a shield to what lay beyond. Pressing further, you felt the icy cold bitterness of him. It spread down your spine, wrapping around bone and marrow. A threat layered as a promise.

The obsidian emptiness was tinged with a soft gleam of crimson. Blood. Spilled by the very hands you craved to hold you.

The vibration of power nearly rattled you from the inside out. The amount of his capabilities that once beckoned you forward, now creeped closer. Mirth and malevolence seeped into the air, invading your senses. Until the pungent taste of copper spread across your tongue. Burning you within moments.

The hair stood up on the back of your neck, chills overtaking you with a wolfish eagerness. And you gasped. Calling your saber swiftly to your palm, you spun—the teal igniting like a flame, illuminating the area. Your eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of light, but in the darkness—melted into the shadows—you caught a glimpse of him. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you swung it forward, until the all too familiar sinister hum of a second lightsaber filled the area.

Red clashed with teal—sparks flying into the air—and you were met with the eyes of your mark.

The man who split you open down the center.

He stole the lid from Pandora’s box and watched in glee as every emotion you kept locked away, spilled free.

“What took you so long?” His lips curved into a smirk. Satisfaction gleamed from his eyes—a red reflection cast itself along his brown irises.

“You knew I’d come.”

“I hoped.”

“Hope…” You scoffed, attempting to steady the beat of your heart. “A dangerous thing for someone like you.”

With the tilt of his head you felt the ground level beneath you. “One could say the same for your kind.”

Heat from your blades clashing bled into the air. Yet neither of you backed away. This was no longer a fight of enemies, but rather you claiming back what he so callously stole. The sanity you once prided yourself on. Death would be an honor if it were to occur in battle. A worthy end to a Jedi as prideful as you, but the doubt he placed began to rise to the surface.

The answers to your myriad of questions—desires you sealed away—were gifted to you by him. As if he’d been waiting with baited breath for you to simply…ask him.

His smile deepened. “I can’t heal what’s been broken.”

You pressed your saber down, victory filling your chest at the sight of him sliding back. He’d been expecting a fight. Not your rage.

“Stay out of my head,” you spit.

“But it’s fun.” He huffed, standing to his full height, the strength of his body shoving you back. “Watching you grapple with the meaning of good and bad.”

“Shut up.” You swung at him again. Only for the attempt to be met with a slice of his blade. It nearly toppled you to the ground.

“It’s a lie. Everything the Jedi told you.” He advanced, his steps steady—measured. “There is no such thing as light or dark. It is just power.”

“You’re trying to get in my head. To tear me apart.” The clash of your blades pierced the air with a crack as you rushed at him.

“No,” he whispered, allowing his Force signature to brush against yours. You fell away, fear lacing your heart. “I was already in your head.” He swiped at you, the red crackle of his lightsaber singed your face as you ducked. “You let me in. You let me see every doubt, every fear, every desire. Willingly.”

“Shut up!” you cried, anger forcing its way forward. Hatred for everything you felt blinded you as you lashed at him with vehemence.

Loathing at the lust you gave into, the fear you let consume you. He worked his way into your heart and there was nothing you could do to combat it. You wanted to strip him from your body, tear away the flesh he touched. Yet the memory of how you begged, how you fell to your knees for him ripped through your head—punching the breath from your lungs.

Blow after blow, you watched as he fought you with ease. His slight shifts were enough to keep you off balance. Right where he wanted. Sweat prickled at your throat, pain spreading down your arms. He was purposefully wearing you down. Until your body gave way to exhaustion. Yet that’s not what fueled the rage you did your best to tamp down.

He was enjoying this. The way you struggled.

The final frail thread in your mind snapped and for the first time, you allowed your anger to bleed through. You let it fuel the adrenaline that filled your veins, pushing your body to keep fighting. With a hoarse shout, you shoved what Force you could his way and watched him slide back along the ground. Falling to one knee with a grunt.

Air burned your lungs as you gasped in time with the beat of your heart. Your arms shook with an unforgivable ache.

But you lifted your lightsaber. Teal casting a soft glow on your sweat slicked face—the echo of wrath glinting in your darkened eyes.

“You are the last person I’d let corrupt me.” You weren’t taught to despise someone this viciously. The Jedi spoke against it, but something hot burned in your chest. A promise that you would return to Coruscant with the handle of his lightsaber. His defeat would be your penance for the pain you caused.

“Why do you lie to yourself?”

“You’re wrong—”

He laughed, his foot slamming into your hip hard enough for you to hear a pop—pain rushing down your thigh. “I’m wrong? Tell me Jedi. What do you think they will do to you when you return corrupted? What will they do…when they find out how much you wanted me?”

Your scream pierced the air, burning your lungs. Ignoring the pain, you leapt to your feet, swung your blade in parries he quickly blocked, at a speed you’d never before witnessed. He fought against you with ease, but your refusal to back down is what threw him off. You wouldn’t let him win, refusing to back away from something like this. If he wanted to finish what started weeks ago, he’d have to impale you with his blade.

To your wonder, he seemed to avoid doing exactly that. Even as you fumbled, weariness settling deep in your bones.

With a twist of your wrist, his blade flew from his hand and landed mere feet away in the dirt. You half expected him to call it back, to end you where you stood, but he fell to his knees when your boot slammed into his leg. The teal of your saber now pressed close to his sweat glistened skin.

His head tilted up, eyes darker than you remembered, yet he never lost the mirthful smile that graced his lips.

“I didn’t want you,” you lied, in the hopes that he wouldn’t prod out the truth.

One final swing would silence him forever. You could release the Jedi from his threat, return home the same person you were before coming across him. And yet…you hesitated. Your eyes met his, the burn of tears welling up until you could barely see straight. His smile deepened, victory painted across his face, as you both came to the realization that would damn you right along with him. He could see it in your stance, feel how your Force signature begged to sink beside his, to feel the strength he once showed you—the tenderness that you knew existed beneath the surface.

Killing him ceased to be an option the second he opened your eyes to the truth.

“You do,” he said, his voice soft and raspy.

“No,” you whimpered, blinking back the tears.

He laughed, his hand calling his saber in the blink of an eye. Red flashed in the air, before your lightsaber was knocked out of your hands, now on the forest floor.

Instead of striking you down, he dragged you forward, your body forced to submit as his hand gripped your chin, angling you to face him. Your mind screamed at you to fight him, to resist the temptation, but his grip merely tightened. His eyes falling to your lips, to the way your jacket fell open at your chest, before finding your gaze again.

“You want me,” he whispered.

Where you expected to struggle against him—to flinch from his touch—you found that you craved more. You wanted him to bend you to his will, to show you the path to the dark side that remained like an echo in the back of your mind. A promise of more, wrapped in the threat of everything.

A gasp tore through your chest when he dropped his blade, his other arm hauling you against him as he walked forward. Your back scraped against a tree. Blood sprouting to the surface on the back of your neck. And if you had the ability to…you’d beg for more.

He grinned, seeing the flicker of uncertainty in the Force, the brightness of your familiar teal now a shade darker. His thumb pressed down, forcing your lips to part. To let him in.

Obedience was never difficult for you; having gone your entire life following orders left and right. But this…this knowledge that to follow his rule, to submit to his words, left you breathless. You were nearly angry at the person you let yourself become. Perhaps the Jedi were lying. You’d never know unless you asked, but to do so was to put a sentence on your head. To put questions in theirs. To push for more would reveal what you’d already done—what you couldn’t take back.

He watched the turmoil stream through you with interest. His eyes grasping what he could as you struggled with the truth he already gave you. Desire, want, hunger, it all stemmed from a place of power.

What mattered wasn’t that you needed it. You wanted it.

“I—” Your eyes fell to his lips, greed screaming through the Force as it all clicked into place.

With a snarl, he turned you, his hand wrapping around your throat as the other delved between your thighs, beneath layers of fabric you longed to get off. “I was inside of you.”

Breathing became secondary when his touch burned everything out of you, leaving a path of fire behind. Where he once caressed you with tenderness before, now turned rough. Shame should have ripped you from this intoxicating high, but the smile pressed to your ear when his fingers met your pool of slick, left you lost in the destitute darkness that consumed you.

“I tasted you,” he murmured, the rough pads of his fingers circling your clit—your mouth parting with a broken moan.

Dignity meant nothing to you when pleasure burned at the edges of your vision. Effectively blocking anything that might have come before.

“That is a truth you will never escape.”

Gripping his arm, you focused on the heavy breaths he exhaled, the shift of his body as he held you up where you couldn’t anymore. And beyond that, in the expanse of his darkness, you allowed light to pour through. To blanket him in what was once familiar, what remained buried in the depths of his mind. You gave him a piece of his past as he drowned you in your future.

“The Jedi will reject you,” he gasped, two fingers pressing into you, the memory of before sparking to life in your mind. “And when they do. You will find me again.”

“T-They’ll brand me a traitor—” If you were to return, you could never be a Jedi again. Never go back to the person you were before him.

Pleasure blinded you with every thrust of his fingers, the stillness of the forest now echoed with the mix of your breaths. You sunk into him, nails digging crescent moons into his skin, and he tightened his hold on your throat. He liked you this way. Pliant beneath his touch, eager and desperate for whatever he could possibly offer you. Being your prey was a mere fantasy, an act he allowed you to divulge in for as long as you needed.

Until the time was right.

His lips slid against yours, the kiss wet and heady. All the things you longed for, the past that you could not escape from. He kissed you without mercy. And you met him with an urgent acquiescence. The memory of his tongue against your clit pulsed in your mind, brighter than the day it happened as he stole the breath from your lungs. Saliva dripped down your chin, connecting you to him.

“Don’t you see?” he breathed, fingers curling forward—searching for something. The sharp inhale of satisfaction nearly tore you apart when your torso crumpled forward, a whimpered moan ripping from your throat. “You became a traitor the day you followed me into that temple.”

“I—”

The heel of his palm roughly pressed to your clit; your hips—acting on their own accord—sought his touch, grinding down with a pleaded out cry. You needed the bliss he once gave you. The sensation that haunted your every waking moment; that threatened to break you down and ruin all that you built for yourself. The feeling you were prepared to give up everything for.

“I can give this to you, all the time.”

“Please,” you sighed.

“Whatever you crave, will be yours.” He felt your walls tighten around his fingers, the hitch in your chest burned a hole through his. And like before when you cupped his face with reverence glowing in your eyes, he ignored it. Shoved it down into the pit with the remainder of his memories and feelings.

Your teeth dug into your lip nearly drawing blood when he sped up. The plunge of his fingers wet and loud in the air. To have you like this. Out in the open for anyone to discover, nearly drove him mad. He wanted to see your face, watch you shatter like before, witness the erosion of the Jedi spirit within you.

He wanted to bear witness to the corruption he caused.

“Say you’ll join me.”

Warning bells rang in the back of your mind, teal bleeding into your vision—the final hope of light that tried to pull you away from him. To remind you of why you were there.

Until darkness swallowed it whole, submerging it beneath the waves of a sea you’d never swim out of.

Grasping for the release you knew wasn’t far away, you bucked against his hand, mouth falling open as a cry pierced the air. With a grunt, he pushed his hips against your back, his teeth clamping down on your shoulder as you came with the taste of him on your lips. White flashed behind your eyes, hot and all consuming, your Force signature slamming into him with enough strength to send him stumbling. All with you still in his arms.

He collapsed to the ground, arm wrapped like a vice around your waist and fingers swirling around your pulsing clit.

“Yes,” you gasped, thigh quaking and face contorted in pleasure. “I will.”

Soft green began to morph behind your closed eyes. Dimming and bleeding to the edge of your senses, something brighter taking you over with a hunger you’d never experienced before. A raw ache that thumped in tune with your own heart. He turned your head, his lips finding yours, as your crimson signature called to his, bending and curving where his led.

He smiled, thumb running along the edge of your jaw. “Welcome my love.”

Your eyes fluttered open, lips pulling into a smile, as yellow slowly seeped into your iris. “Thank you.”

#qimir x reader #qimir x f!reader #qimir x jedi!reader #qimir x you #qimir x y/n #qimir smut #the stranger x reader #the stranger x you #the stranger smut #the acolyte fic #my writing

2K notes · View notes

alvojake · 6 months

Note

How about pirate! Jungwon and mermaid! Reader? You can make it dark and stuff. Up to you 😘

「notes」 : bless you and your thinking anony, this is such a *chefs kiss* idea, I actually had a lot of fun writing it!! also, I would like to dedicate this to two of my lovely moots hehe, @yeonzzzn & @wondipity. I hope this feeds into your jungwon brain rot

Midnight Lagoon | Y.JW

「paring」 : pirate!jungwon x mermaid!reader 「word count」 : 1.9k

「synopsis」 : what you and jungwon had was nothing short of unethical, if you were to ask your people, that is. neither of you cared, though, which is how you find yourself waiting for the said man in the very cavern that had started everything, relishing in each other's company.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : unprotected sex (just don't), slight manhandling, teasing, cussing, making out, petnames (baby, princess...), praising, rough sex, mentions of marking, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

The cavern was silent, save for the waves splashing against the shore. It had to have been late into the night. The only source of light was the bioluminescent algae that littered the cavern walls and ceiling. The algae illuminated the space in a soft blue, and the water almost glowed along with it. You lay out on the rocks, crimson tail dipping into the water, enjoying the feeling of the waves cascading across your scales.

Despite knowing the time, you knew that he would be here at any moment. You knew that as soon as his crew was all asleep, he would sneak away to come see you. It has become a routine since Jungwon first found you.

It’s a funny story, really. You had gotten caught in one of their nets when they were anchored in this very cavern. The string was far too tight for you to just rip away from, so you were stuck, fearing that your life was going to come to an end. You had heard the stories from your parents and the elders of the shoal. Pirates were not to be messed with; they would kill you on sight and take your scales to pawn off for a pretty penny.

So to say you were surprised when Jungwon found you and just cut you free would be an understatement. His hands were steady but careful as he wedged his blade between your tail and the net, slicing the dreadful contraption off of you. Even his voice was soft as to not alert those that were on the ship with him. His kind eyes and gentle hands intrigued you and you knew it was wrong, hell it was probably one of the worst things you could do in your life. But god, if you didn’t enjoy the thrill of it all.

After those events, you stayed behind a cluster of rocks, watching and studying what they were doing. Your family had been worried sick about you all night long, but that was the least of your concerns right now. No, you wanted to actually talk to this man, even if it was the dumbest thing you’ve done. Curiosity has gotten the best of you.

So you waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, you saw Jungwon climbing off of the boat.

You tried to sneak up behind him, but for some miraculous reason, he sensed you there. His head turned, and his eyes bore into yours, peeking from the top of the water.

“I didn’t think a pretty thing like you would hang out around here.” His once soft voice now held a more sinister tone, but instead of getting scared… you were intrigued. Something pulling you towards him, like an angler fish going after the little light antenna on their heads.

That desire only grew from that night when he lured you out of the waters, watching as your tail morphed into human legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare to him. The complete ecstasy that his fingertips brought you left you gasping and begging for more. His dick reaching the most inner parts of your body that you hadn’t even known existed. By the time he was done with you, you had become addicted, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace once more.

Thus began the little rendezvous, meeting in the very place where he first made love to you, much like what was happening now.

When Jungwon made it into the cavern, he wasn’t surprised at all to find you lying halfway in the water, your tail swishing softly under the surface. Your head was tilted back, eyes closed, enjoying the tranquility that this space brought you. He stopped once he was close enough to fully see you. Watching the way your damp hair cascaded down your back, small droplets of water still falling from the ends. His eyes trailed the length of your body, taking in your chest that was hardly covered due to the shell top you were wearing. Jungwon could feel his dick chub up at the sight alone.

Jungwon’s footsteps were careful and quiet, but you could still feel the vibrations under your fingertips. Your head turned slightly to look over at him, and the corner of your eyes crinkled slightly as a smirk spread across your lips.

“It took you long enough,” you teased the male as you pulled yourself further from the sparkling water. Your fingers wrapped around the pendant that lay between your collarbones, whispering a few soft words, allowing your tail to morph into human legs. Jungwon’s eyes stayed glued to your body, taking in the new skin that had just been revealed to him.

“I had to wait for everyone to fall asleep.” His voice was soft, unlike the dark look that glazed over his eyes. You carefully stood to your feet, but seeing as it's been a little bit since the last time you had to use your legs, your knees buckled, and you tumbled forward right into Jungwon's arms. “Even the sight of me has your legs weak, huh? I'm flattered.”

“Oh, hush.” You rolled your eyes before fixing your posture to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. His face was merely inches away from yours, eyes boring into your own. He could smell the sea salt on your skin as he leaned closer to you, sealing your lips in a gentle kiss.

“God, I've missed your lips so much.” He groaned against your lips, “... I missed you.” He sighed before letting his lips trail from yours to your cheek, down your jaw and neck, before finding purchase on one particular spot right below your ear. A soft sigh fell from your lips as you pulled his body flush against yours, leaving little to no room between the two of you. He continued to press open-mouth kisses along your jugular until he was sure there would be marks left behind, not caring for the consequences you might face once you were home.

“Won…” You whine when his hands traveled down to the fat of your ass, squeezing harshly. He licked a long stipe up your neck before roughly kissing you. His lips moved fervently against yours as he swiftly picked you up off of your feet.

Jungwon wasted no time in laying your body flat on the flat rocks that sat next to the lagoon. His body slotted against yours, allowing you to feel his bulge against your bare pussy. Your small whines and whimpers were swallowed by Jungwon’s mouth as his fingers brushed along the inside of your thigh.

Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch, his fingers leaving tingles in their wake. But it wasn’t enough; no, you wanted more, and you didn’t want to wait. Noticing the impatiens in your eyes, Jungwon chuckled, pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, making your hips buck and a broken cry fall from your lips.

“Do you really want my cock that bad baby? You’re dripping on my fingers.” He teased, his fingertips tracing your slit, collecting your slick.

“Wonnie, please, I don’t wanna wait. Just fuck me, please.” You pleaded in a meek voice, and Jungwon smirked against your skin.

Who was he to deny you what you were asking so nicely for? So he pressed one last kiss against your forehead before pulling back to rid himself of his clothing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock springing free from his trousers. Catching your gaze, he put on a bit of a show, pumping his cock a few times, hissing through his teeth at the sensation. Impatience grew in your chest as you watched him pleasure himself. A whine fell from your lips when he denied your motion for him to move towards you.

Eyes rolling, you moved your hand down to your cunt using your fingers to spread your pussy lips, “Just fuck me already, Won, please.”

He chuckled once more before finally giving in and moving closer to your body, grabbing your plush thigh. Leaning over your body, he captured your lips in another heated kiss as he lined his cock with your entrance. In one swift motion, he buried himself in your warm heat, swallowing all of the moans that slipped past your lips.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight, baby,” He groaned, biting down on your bottom lip. It had been far too long since he was last able to bury himself in your wet cavern, the crew and missions taking up a majority of his time. So he wasn’t going to hold back; no, he had a lot of lost time to make up for.

He gave you a split second to adjust before his hips were snapping into yours in such a rough manner you were sure there would be bruises. The sounds of your skin hitting his and moans bounced off of the cavern walls. Jungwon couldn’t hold back; his hips were pistoned into your, trying to get as deep as he could, throwing your legs over his shoulders, pushing even deeper. Deep enough to have the head of his cock kissing your cervix.

Wonton moans fell from your lips as you tried your best to stay up with his pace, but as soon as his tip brushed over that sweet spot deep in your pussy you were putty in his hands. Stars clouded your vision, your orgasm already on the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck- Won, I’m- shit, I’m close.” Tears brimmed in your eyes at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon leaned down, kissing over the few tears that had fallen from your eyes, whispering sweet praises against your skin while his hip snapped brutally into yours.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He groaned when your cunt squeezed around him, “fuck princess, you keep doing that, and I won’t last.” His hands trailed from your thigh to your hands, intertwining your fingers when your high washed over you. His pace slowed just a little to help you ride out your orgasm, but his movements never stopped.

“Won-” “Just a little longer, baby, I’m almost there.” He groaned before picking up the pace once more, letting go of one of your hands to rub his thumb against your clit, relishing in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

Your head fell back at the overstimulation, all words but his name leaving your brain. Jungwon loved when he got you like this, so fucked out that his name was the only thing you could remember. Chuckling, he pressed a kiss against your plush thigh before a choked groan tore through his lips when he felt you cum for a second time. The tightness around his sensitive cock was enough to finally push him over the edge, painting your velvet walls white.

“Shit…” He groaned into your neck as he leaned over you, hips rocking softly against yours. Taking in your scent, memorizing it once more for he wasn’t sure when he would be able to see you again.

“Won,” you breathed out, running your shaky fingers through his hair. "You’re still hard.”

Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before rolling his hips deeply into yours, pushing his cum further into your womb, “You drive me insane, baby, and I want to fill you so full of my cum.”

A whine slipped past your swollen lips as his pace picked up a little, but your grip on his body didn’t let up. No, your lips found his, kissing him deeply, telling him that you would love nothing more.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 : @heesitation @riftanswhore @yeonzzznn @yzzyhee @skzenhalove @seuomo @moonchus @enha-stars @ikeuverse @ilovesubbymenn @ro-diaries @yeonjunsfox

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charlottecutepie · 8 months

Text

｡ꪆৎ ˚ Bully (Michael Afton x fem!reader)

while I'm writing fics with William (and making some people’s requests!), i decided to post Michael smut bc there’s lack of content about this boy :)

summary: you're mad at both Simon and Michael for not helping you with project. But guys only mock you, saying stupid jokes about your ex. Wait, was it you or Michael’s voice sounded rather… jealous?

tags: Michael is jealous and kind of possessive, bully!Mike, mention of break up, smut, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, kind of rough sex?? (Michael can’t control himself), William Afton mentioned

"Stop smoking." in a loud, angry tone, you tell to a couple of guys beside. One of them turns around and blows smoke right in your face, laughing. "Fuck you, Simon."

"Don't tell me what to do, tuts," Simon frowns and leans against his friend Michael, who was busy reading comics, not paying attention to you. "You've been too nervous and angry lately." guy notices. "Is it because of your ex?"

"Of course, no dick and she's all worked up." Michael adds fuel to the fire without even bothering to turn to you. However, his back stiffened.

"What are you talking about? What does this have to do here? We have a fucking project together and I'm only one doing something, that's why I'm mad at you!"

Simon didn't answer because he just didn't know what to say. You were right. He and Michael didn't do shit, only you worked on the task. Simon just gave you a blank look, raising his eyebrows mockingly. There was a rage boiling inside you that almost made your face turn red.

"Ran after him like a tail." Michael lets out a strangled laugh, finally turning to you, his fingers clutching the comic. "You really loved that boy so much, didn't you?"

Now it's your turn to shut up. Insults and obscenities rise in your throat, threatening to jump out. Michael's face didn't flinch for a second as he continued to pierce you with blue eyes, as if trying to make you uncomfortable, which was puzzling. Michael has always been like this: aggressive, with cruel and stupid jokes, cheeky taunts. But why do his words sound like he's jealous now? Why so much attention to your personal life?

"You two are completely useless, I'll have to ask teacher to pair me with other students." you sigh, putting all your notes, notebooks, sunglasses in your bag, and the next second you leave both guys behind.

Their behavior, especially Simon, who was like Michael's faithful dog, doing everything just to get approval from its owner, infuriated and caused indignation. But more than that, you were hurt their comments about your personal life. Your ex has nothing to do with it.

You go back to school walking through empty corridors since classes have already ended. Of course, you'd have been home a long time ago, too, but thanks to a couple of jerks, you're stuck here until tonight. You angrily punch Michael's school locker, ripping off the poster of his favorite rock band.

"Fuck you, Michael Afton!" you swear, crumpling the poster in your hands and throwing it on the floor.

You had no idea that someone was following you slowly and carefully through the corridors.

Upset and frustrated, you enter lady's bathroom, go to the mirror and look at yourself carefully. Why, you think, he broke up with me? What happened between us?

You straighten your hair, carefully laying it on your shoulders, without interrupting eye contact with your reflection. You need to push these thoughts away, now is not the best time for self-reflection, you need to gather your strength and finish this damn project.

You try to find something in your bag as you take out a lip gloss from your makeup bag. And again feeling of sadness and longing comes through. Now it feels wrong and hurtful whenever you look at that gloss. Your boyfriend always liked it when you applied it. And now it's a painful reminder that will haunt you for a long time. It's just not fair.

Just when you're about to throw that lip gloss in the trash, someone comes into the bathroom. You think it's another girl, so you don't pay attention.

"It was my favorite poster." Michael's voice is slightly angry. An unpleasant surprise is reflected on your face as you turn to him, pressing lip gloss to your chest. This is definitely not what you expected to see in the women's bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" you hiss at Afton, looking him up and down. "You've been following me?"

"Knowing what a crybaby you are, it was the right decision." Michael shoves his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans, leaning against the wall. "What if you went to hang yourself? And then Simon and I would be accused of driving to suicide."

"Stop your idiotic jokes at least now! Can't you see that I feel too bad?" you grit your teeth and frown. Your voice sounds offended. Michael's behavior has always been infuriating, but now it crosses all boundaries.

"My father taught me that if a girl is upset, she needs to be supported. That's how all gentlemen behave." the young man says with a sneer.

"Fuck you and your dad, Mike," you shout. "you're just like him, you selfish jerk!"

"Mmm," Michael nods, grinning. "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

You are silent again, not knowing what to say to this insolence. Does Afton really think that in eyes of other people, he's all cool and cocky? Doesn't he realize how stupid his behavior is? Yes, he is certainly a copy of his dad, Mr. Afton, but with a slight difference. The last one has at least some brains.

"My eyes are up here, honey," Michael grins, noticing your gaze. You blink in surprise, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, aren't you ashamed of yourself?"

"I didn't even look there, you idiot." you fold your arms over your chest and turn away, lifting your chin. That's when Michael pushes you against the wall, towering over you.

"Sure." he can't help but smile stupidly. "I must say, you have beautiful eyes, princess. That's what he called you, right?" there was something wrong with Michael's intonation, even this mockery sounded like he wanted to hurt not you, but himself. There was definitely a hint of jealousy in the young man's tone, although you didn't pay attention to it.

With every action and word of Michael, anger grows inside you, which has been accumulating all this time. And then the mixture of all the negative emotions finally reaches the top. You can't get over how much of an asshole Michael is. You'd do anything to shut him up, just to show him his place. But it doesn't take much time, the anger breaks out. Putting the lip gloss back in the bag, you raise your hand and slap Michael hard in the face.

Afton's cheek burns from your blow, it hurts unpleasantly so it takes him a couple of seconds to come to his senses, then he raises his head at you. His hand instantly reaches for the red mark, stroking it to ease the pain. Yes, it was insulting, even a little humiliating, but again he hides it behind an arrogant and satisfied grin.

However, his next words are strangely surprising.

"You know what?" Michael says in a calm voice. "That was hot."

You look at him, not even hiding your disgust at his words. Michael is such an asshole, even much worse than Simon and their two other bully friends. No wonder why Afton is the leader of their stupid bully four.

Just as you're about to slap him again, Afton grabs your wrist, pulling you closer to him. Your eyes widen with shock from his his behavior, you try to break free. Your heart is beating faster from misunderstanding. Being in the hands of a bully, in such an intimate position, when anyone can enter here, makes the situation even more dangerous.

"How stupid of him to lose a beautiful girl like you," Michael whispers, looking at your face, at how your lips are trembling. "I'll repeat, my father taught me to support when girl is sad." the last thing he says before leaning in for a kiss.

For a second, everything in your body, especially brain, stopped working, you froze. Even though Michael is holding you, you don't even try to pull away. Afton's actions become bolder because he sees no resistance, so he tries to get his tongue into your mouth. And that's when you finally realize what's going on and push him away.

"Fuck off, you idiot." you mumble, looking at him point-blank.

"I see that such support isnt enough." Michael bares his teeth and pushes his knee right between your legs what makes your skirt rise a little. At that moment, you blush and try to pull it back, but Michael's hand stops you.

You froze in another shock from another sudden kiss. You expected him to do everything but that. You try to push him away, but it's hard to get out of his grip. Or is it you who's fighting too weakly? At first kiss doesn't seem so pleasant, but then Michael deepens it as his hand moves to your waist, hugging you. The kiss gets more intense when you start responding, your body melts under Afton's touch. You don't even have time to keep up with your thoughts, confused by your own actions.

His lips suddenly feel so warm and pleasant which makes you want more, crave even more of this feeling: to be held like this, to be kissed like this even if it's Michael damn Afton. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder. This isn't what you planned when you went here.

When he pulls away from you, you are in oblivion, heat is burning inside. Michael looks at you hungrily, not understanding why you responded. He lets you go and you stumble away from him, but after a moment your back hits wall. You're trying to figure out what just happened. Did he really just kissed you? And you responded with same? Why did this happen at all? There are more questions than answers.

Your heart is pounding as you stare at him, into his eyes, trying to read the answers in them. He caught you off guard, but you didn't push him off right away, you even started responding. The bitter truth is that you liked it more than you wanted to admit. The way he kisses, kind of rude but so hot… It caused an exciting pleasant feeling. But you don't understand how you can be attracted to this bully, in fact, a tormentor, a brute. All thoughts are fucked up and your legs feel like cotton wool.

Michael is elated to see the confusion on your face.

"Little miss hard-to-get," he says, running a finger over his lips. "always trying to be unapproachable." you're staring at him, heart is still pounding from the kiss. You can't find words. Michael feels your vulnerability and it only gives him confidence. "Don't pretend you didn't like it," he says with a sly grin. "I know it by the way you melt in my arms.

So he's also a romantic. However, he sucks at making tremulous speeches.

Feeling of annoyance reappears.

You try to deny it, but deep inside you know that Michael's words are true. You hate what's happening, what you've gotten yourself into. You blame yourself for enjoying it. A feeling of incomprehensible and inexplicable resentment grows inside: why couldn't HE make you feel like this? Why does it have to be Michael? It's unfair.

It's wrong to be aroused by Michael, to feel a pleasant tingling in the lower belly. Wrong, you keep telling yourself. You need to slap that cocky face one more time and get out of here. Forget about everything that just happened.

Why the hell does it have to be Michael? You have to act like this with your boyfriend, it's almost cheating. But a second later, a bitter realization comes to your clouded mind. Right… You don't have a boyfriend anymore.

Michael sees the contradiction on your face and decides to try his luck, as if reading your mind.

"Maybe I'm the one you should be with," he leans closer. "I mean look at me," he says, pointing at himself. "I'm handsome, confident and I know how to treat a girl." he chuckles softly.

No way! You shake your head trying to come to your senses. You know what he's doing, trying to manipulate emotions by hitting on your weak spot: ex. But for some reason, you don't deny his words. It's strange, the feeling of impermanence, misunderstanding is infuriating. And Michael is like some kind of drug right now that you can't resist. Your palms sweating.

You're trying to regain your composure, push him away. But you don't don't strength, especially moral one, to do that. So you just look into his blue eyes, trying to understand the strange feeling inside.

"Have you been jealous all this time?" you ask, without realizing the question yourself, now you are acting only on emotions.

That's when the picture finally starts to show up… Michael's words, actions. All those stares, all those sneers. It was Michael's jealousy, which he could only show in this way.

"Jealous?" he repeats, his eyes widen slightly at your question. Michael was even surprised that you understood so quickly. "You have a rich imagination."

But you know better now. You didn't notice it at all before, spending all your time with your boyfriend. But others, especially Michael's friends, noticed the way he looked at you. Now it's getting clearer, now you see it. He was motivated and is still by something more than just hatred and the desire to mock you forever.

"Don't lie, you're really jealous." it seems that your words hurt him more than you thought. He looks away, staring at the floor.

"Maybe," Michael admits quietly. "maybe i am."

You feel a strange sense of victory, realizing that you've figured out reason of his stupid behavior. But at the same time, you feel guilty. You shouldn't like how the situation is developing and where it's all leading.

When you look into Michael's eyes, the tension only increases. It's as if all the pent-up emotions have been spilling out for so long, turning into an inexplicable lump that confuses both of you.

Suddenly his hands pull your hips closer to him, and you feel his erection through his pants. You both sigh from the close contact. Michael leans in kissing you again, his fingers sliding under your t-shirt, tracing the outline of your breasts. You moan softly into his mouth. Afton pulls away and begins to cover your chin line with hot, wet kisses, then your neck. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, surrendering to the sensations. You don't want to think so you drive common sense and thoughts away.

Michael slips his fingers behind your bra, unbuttoning it. After that, he gently rolls your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it a little. You exhale, clutching at his hair. This is madness, it's impossible to stand it anymore. Michael's lips leave a trail of passionate kisses along your collarbone, his fingers teasingly descend to your stomach. He stops for a moment to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You know," he begins, his voice already hoarse with arousal. "I can get any girl I want."

You bite your lip, trying not to show how much you enjoy it. You realize that Michael is just trying to play on your nerves.

"Yeah?" you ask, trying to hide a groan. "Then what makes me so special?"

Michael grins darkly, his fingers tracing your sensitive nipple.

"I don't know," he replies, and gets a menacing look from you that says he's about to get a smack on head. "Maybe it's because you're so damn sexy when you play hard to get."

His compliments and flirting, if you can call it so, are pretty stupid and dumb, but then why do they cause pleasant goosebumps that cover the whole body? You want this. You need him. You can feel desire intensifying with every second, body craves his touch. You turn to face the wall, pressing your butt against his hard-on, letting him know exactly what you want, even though Michael understood everything a long time ago. And he wants the same thing.

"That's it," he breathes, giving you a kiss on the neck. "You want me to fuck you, don't you?"

"Yes," you're squirming. "I want you to fuck me." you meet his gaze, giving him puppy eyes.

Without wasting a second, he lowers his hand down, his fingers push your soaked panties aside, exposing your already dripping pussy to the cool air.

"God, you're so fucking wet…"

Michael's fingers slide between your folds, exploring your wet cunt. Your knees are buckling, and you have to lean against the wall to keep your balance. Michael smiles slyly, his fingers sweetly toying with your clit. You're whimpering, snuggling up against him, pushing up your skirt. He sighs noisily, thrusting two fingers into you at once, sliding them deeper and deeper inside, stretching you as your body shudders with pleasure.

"Lovely, such a good girl." he mutters, still moving his fingers. "cum for me, cum on my fingers." he whispers.

You grab onto the wall as a pleasant shiver runs through your whole body. Michael continues to stimulate your clit, making you arch. And you reach the peak, your body shivers.

"I've wanted you for so long." his hand turns your face to him, Michael looks deep into your eyes. "Your ex," he says in a low and angry voice. "he's a loser, a real idiot, because he couldn't satisfy you. That's why you're here, with me, in my arms."

Your desire is mixed with guilt, realizing what Michael is hinting at. You think you've somehow betrayed your ex by falling into the hands of someone else. But it's not like that. And Michael will prove it to you.

"You're mine now. That bastard missed his chance." Michael says, pressing his lips to yours.

As soon as Michael's words reach you, he straightens up and pulls your body closer, spreading your legs. He rubs his hard cock against your wet entrance and you shudder again in anticipation, responding to his caresses.

Michael pushes inside you, trying to stifle the desire to fuck you hard and rough, to make you cry, to make you forget that you ever dated anyone before him. Jealousy devours him and a disgusting picture forms in his brain… of you hugging and kissing HIM. But not Michael.

He stops, he pulls almost out only to slam back inside again, this time much deeper. Your walls tighten around his cock, waves of pleasure overwhelm both of you. Michael exhales loudly, squeezes your hips and picks up speed, furiously driving into you.

He can't control himself.

You scream into your own fist, all thoughts of the wrongness of the situation disappear, Michael hits all the right places, causing you to moan sweetly. Each hard thrust echoes with vulgar sound of skin slapping against skin, which only excites you both more. Michael holds you tightly, fucking you as you move your hips in response to his thrusts. The orgasm grows again, a tight knot of pleasure twists in your lower abdomen.

"Michael, I'm… I'm gonna!…" you whimper.

Michael growls in response, already breaking into a wheeze. Sweat rolls off his forehead and he frowns as he continues to ruin your sweet pussy. He likes to hear you lose touch with the world around, knowing full well that he's reason of it. Pushing into you harder and faster, he lowers his hand between your legs, finding your clit with his thumb, ripping off another moan from you.

You cry, arching your back, his finger starts tracing your sensitive nub. The additional stimulation pushes you to the limit, your pussy walls clenches hard around his dick. Orgasm hits you like a wave, forcing you to swallow air.

But even when you're shaking from overstimulation, Michael doesn't stop. He continues to thrust, desperately driving deeper, already reaching your cervix, determined to show you what good sex is. Aggression, jealousy and resentment flare up inside him, regardless of the fact that you're completely his now, he cannot contain his emotions. He grabs you by the neck, squeezing just a little. Michael buries his nose in your hair, hiding his face in it and breathing heavily.

Michael fucks you so hard, so furiously, so fast that there's lack of air in your chest.

"His cock wasn't good as mine?" he pulls back slightly, leaving a kiss on your shoulder. It's like he purposely leaves bite marks and kisses to make sure that you really belong only to him.

You can't think, your eyes roll back in pleasure. You can only mumble plaintively to yourself.

"Yes! Your cock is so good, so good!. . ." you admit between ragged breaths. Michael smiles dreamily, feeling a sense of triumph, such recognition fills him with pride.

"That's right, baby," he bites your earlobe. "all you need is me."

The pleasure becomes all-consuming, hitting right into brain. Michael growls raggedly, feeling that hes also close. Another orgasm snaps in you, a discharge passes through your body. Mike also reaches his climax. His body is shaking. He pulls out of you at the last moment, cumming on the wall, moaning through clenched lips.

Both of you are just standing there, panting and trying to come to your senses. But you feel weak, still not understanding a single bit of what happened. You almost fall, but Michael holds you tight, both bodies sweaty and hot. Michael closes his eyes, breathing down your neck. Unlike you, he is aware and understands well what happened because he planned it all. Anger leaves him, but not jealousy. Michael is a very jealous person, especially when it comes to you.

The muscles begin to relax, a pleasant fatigue covers your body. Suddenly you feel his teeth digging into your neck, leaving a small painful bite. Michael runs his tongue over the small wound, at the same time his hands begin to squeeze your breasts, as if he is afraid to let you go.

"You're disgusting." you're mumbling.

"I take after my father." Michael answers you, not hiding the joy in his voice.

Though Michael will throw away the lip gloss anyway.

#fnaf x y/n #Michael afton smut #fnaf x reader #fnaf smut #michael afton x reader #michael afton #michael afton x you #michael afton fnaf #fnaf x you #five nights at freddy's

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fishermanshook · 6 months

Text

F!CK BOYS GONE SOFT

( mercenary , batter & prospector ) + gn!reader

# MINOR WRITING SMUT , #ihatewritingdialouge , grammar and spelling warning

INTRO

It was a mutual agreement between the both of you that you were fucking for the pure reason of letting off steam after being stuck in this hell hole.

No feelings were supposed to be caught. No hearts were meant to be thawed. And yet, they find themselves yearning for your touch long after your last session.

꒰wc꒱ 1.7k ( longest fic so far !! )

✦— THE MERCENARY

If being between your legs was where he wished to be, then who were you to deny him access to the most private part of your body? Where Naib works his magic and milks you of your essence while paying you back in waves of pleasure.

The Mercenary looks so lost in his work that you think he doesn’t notice the change in pitch. That you’ve adjusted your grip on his hair to a softer, gentler hold. Your moans are light, airy, and not at all the ones that left your throat hoarse and raspy the night before. No, that can’t be right. And it doesn’t take him long before he finds the spot that pushes you over. The spot that has your back arching off the mattress. The spot that has you screaming his name like it’s going out of style.

And god does pleasure look good on you, as Naib refuses to remove his eyes from you as he watches the aftermath of you coming undone in front of him. Such a passionate and intimate thing for his eyes and his eyes only as your essence coats his hands and tongue. To think he’d pull his head away after you came is just stupid. Have you not learned from previous sessions? You coming only gives him more reason to drop down there and give you more, but Naib holds himself back.

The next few moments are a blur as you try to calm down after your orgasm, but it seems Naib won’t let you. The sound of something being unzipped and his pants hitting the floor pulls you from your recovery. He’s prepped you enough, hasn’t he?

“It’ll hurt a little, but only for a second.” The Mercenary whispers in your ear as a warning to brace for what’s about to come. It makes him wonder, and only for a split second, if you ever realized how much he loves you. The amount of thought and care that goes into every move he makes towards you. Maybe you’re just dense, or maybe it’s not like that. He won’t know until he tells you. Or, until you tell him.

Your hands rush to clamp themselves over your mouth in an attempt to stifle the moans flooding from it. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this (and certainly not the last…), but it’s always a tight fit. A tight fit that neither of you can get enough of. Your hands don’t last though, as the Mercenary is quick to rip your hands away from your mouth. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. You don’t need him to say anything else.

It’s not long before you feel the familiar warmth strengthen between your legs. By now, Naib’s memorized your every tell that you’re going to come. By the way your legs tighten around his waist and the way your hands reach to clasp his biceps to try and hold on. It’s the way you attempt to not pass out when you feel everything just snap.

“God, I love you so much,” Naib admits before even realizing what he just said. You’ve never seen the man freeze so fast, or go so red. Before his hands cover his mouth you pin his wrists down to the bed.

“Wait—! H-hold on,” you say, still recovering from your orgasm that happened just seconds ago. “What did you say?”

The Mercenary stares at you before opening his mouth to say: “I didn’t say anything.” He’s trying to play it with a convincing tone in his voice, but it’s hard to believe when he practically shouts it.

“No, Naib,” you huff out “Are you playing me?” You question. Your face molds into worry and concern. Instead, he avoids your gaze. There’s nothing else for him to do in this situation is there.

“Fine. If you won’t say it, then I will.” You state before grabbing Naibs face and pressing it into yours. The Mercenary tries (and he really does) to do anything but melt into your touch. In the end, it proves to be no use. Pulling away, you say: “Naib, there is no one else I love more than you.”

“Thanks for confirming what I already know, babe.”

✦— THE BATTER

Not every affair starts with a heated make-out session, but every heated make-out session ends with the two of you having sex. With your lips entwined as your fingers roam through his hair, the two of you make a mad dash to whoever’s room is closer as playful giggles slip out along the way.

It started as just another way to let yourself go and cut loose a little after another night of terror from Ganji. How could you not tell that the Batter saw you as more than just some fuck buddy? That his eyes weren’t only filled with lust, but love for you and you entirely?

Maybe this can be his way of showing you, whether you get it or not. Whether you understand the soft kisses he lays on your chest. Whether you understand the praises that fall from his lips. Whether you understand it's taken him too long to finally muster up the courage to confess to you.

You’ve stripped each other of your clothes leaving both of you bare naked. The only thing covering you are the multiple hickeys decorating your chest as well as between your legs. The pleasure overrides any pain felt from when he initially pushed his way inside of you. Before you know it, you're babbling all over his cock while he presses gentle kisses all over your face. You look so cute like this—all flushed out and pink.

Ganji's smart, but overlooks your cock drunkenness and traces his finger along your jaw and other places. Eventually, his finger meets your back and traces along your spine. His finger does weird swoops along your backside. It's all just a simple way of telling you 'I love you.' without having to utter a word.

Maybe it's the way you moan out his name as your hips move up and down on his cock. Or maybe it's the look in your eyes when he meets them. The Batter's not sure where the courage comes from, but all he knows is that he can't stand another moment of you not being his.

"[name] I- fuck, I love you." He barely manages to grunt out, snapping you from your thoughts to look at him with wide eyes.

"What-?"

It's then he thinks he fucked up. That he has demolished all of the hard work he put into this relationship. This is it. This is the end of your bond.

"No, shit I'm sorry just forget what I said," Ganji mutters out, immediately flipping you over so that your lying down on your back. "I'll make you come real hard if you just forget everything I just said, 'k?" Ganji says with caution in his voice. Maybe you're not the only one oblivious in this relationship of yours.

"Really? You love me?"

Ganji tears his eyes away from wherever he is looking at looks right at you. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If not for you I don't think I'd ever get the chance to say this," you chimed, pulling him in for a long and passionate kiss first. "Ganji, I love you more than the stars themselves."

✦— THE PROSPECTOR

The bed will break long after the Prospector, Norton Campbell, has had his way with you. He won’t stop until his sheets are soaked in your combined essences until your scent has been embedded into his mattress, and until he can get the words out to tell you how he feels.

For too long has Norton been labeled as your “fuck buddy” and he wants out of it. Every round feels like another chance to prove he’s perfect for you. How many people know your favorite book? Your favorite place to relax? Your favorite position? The sensitive spots on your body? Who else knows exactly where to touch and what to say? All he needs you to answer is if you like him or not.

“Shit—always feel so good,” Norton manages to grunt out after thrusting into you. He knows he’s found your sweet spot (again…) when he pulls a loud moan from your sweet lips. So attentive to your wants and needs that he can’t help but hit the spot again and again, listening as your moans grow louder with each thrust.

The Prospector mutters something under your breath he thinks went by unnoticed. Pulling you from your aroused state to ask him what’s wrong. All he can do is sigh and shake his head as his arms wrap around you. A bit tighter than usual, but not uncomfortable.

“Norton—! What’s the matter?” You manage to huff out. It’s obvious something is plaguing his mind, but the Prospector is as stubborn as ever and refuses to tell you. “Fine then,” you tell him “I guess I just won’t let you come.”

Now that gets his attention, and he instantly slows his pace. You allow him to keep going, but only if he starts talking.

“I’m too scared to say it,” Norton states.

“Why?” You ask.

Norton looks down at where you're still connected. It’s only then you notice he’s stopped. “Because I don’t want it to ruin whatever we’ve got going on. I don’t want to lose everything.” He admits through gritted teeth.

“Do you think it’s that bad that you’d lose everything?” You ask, concern now seeping into your voice.

All he does is sigh before bringing his face closer to yours. “God, is it seriously not obvious enough? Shit, [name] I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time and I didn’t want to say anything in fear of ruining—“ he gestures using his hands to the both of you. “this. A-and I get it if you don’t want anything to do with me after this but you asked so—“

He doesn’t get to finish as you cover his lips with yours. “Silly prospector, I love you more than you could imagine.” You confess before feeling Norton melt into your kiss once more.

note: hiii fish nation…sorry about the random hiatus, it will probably happen again 😆😆😆. thank you all so much for 100+ followers! it means the absolute most to me knowing there are actually people who enjoy reading what I have to write. I wouldn’t be here without you, thank you for everything so far. 🩷🩷🩷. this is so ass oh my gosh

(2024) ©️fishermanshook — do not steal, translate, plagiarize, or repost my work on any other platform

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totheblood · 2 years

Text

true blue. (two)

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: both ellie and reader are u-haul lesbians and there is a jump scare

warnings: SMUT! suggestive themes, drug/alcohol usage, cursing, descriptions of abusive behavior (neither ellie or reader engages in these behaviors)

a/n: this chapter... idk it has me giggling and blushing.

read part one here!

Ellie felt like throwing up.

After finding out about your history with Cat, she decided that it would be best to only talk about the project with you. She knew she came off cold, but for some reason she didn’t care. When it came to Cat, Ellie almost always shut down, and when it came to the idea that Cat may have also stuck her tongue down your throat, Ellie felt physically sick. A part of her felt bad about having feelings for you, but another part of her was deeply disturbed by the fact that you were into Cat. She also didn’t like that you still had the photo up on your Instagram.

A part of her also knew that she was being dramatic, but the less rational side of her was winning over at the moment. She found herself ranting to Dina about it almost 5 times a week, or everytime they smoked together. At about three hits in, Ellie was already ranting about you and your pretty hair and your pretty lips and how they were tainted by Cat. Like clockwork Dina would roll her eyes, rip the joint from Ellie’s hand, and diffuse it in the ashtray they made at Color Me Mine.

“You need to get over this, man.”

“I’m trying.”

So here Ellie sat, writing the second part of the project in your dorm and refusing to make eye contact with you. You almost instantly noticed an immediate shift in Ellie’s demeanor when it changed weeks ago, but you were at your breaking point. At this point it almost seemed that anything you did would annoy her, or whenever you spoke she would act shocked as if she forgot you were there. Not only was it extremely aggravating, but it was also getting in the way of the quality of your project.

“Did I do something?” You questioned, breaking the silence Ellie was enjoying causing her eyes to shoot up to yours. Yeah, you fucked my-

“No.” She grumbled as she continued writing.

“Are you sure? Because the first day I thought we got along really well, and sometimes I just say everything that’s on my mind and I don’t realize I’m doing anything wrong until well-” You gestured to her with an almost panicked look on your face. “This.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just tired is all.” Ellie mumbled as she went back to her work, pretending to not pay you any mind. All you could do at this moment was roll your eyes and try to get back to work without anxiety overcoming you.

“You’re just like my fucking ex.” You mumbled under your breath as well.

“What?” Ellie snapped her head up at you, unsure if she heard you correctly. Because if she had heard you correctly, you were comparing her to Cat.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, this time it was your turn to avoid eye contact with her.

“No, you had something to say so say it.” She continued, her voice rough. This time you looked directly in her eyes, something behind them she just couldn’t place.

“I said, ‘you’re just like my ex’. Happy?” You gave her your best fake smile and went back to your work. It had never occurred to Ellie that maybe you hated Cat as much as she did. The difference between you and her, however, was that she would never keep up a photo of her making out with Cat for over a year.

“What does that mean?” She snapped with an almost immediate need to defend herself.

“It means that things were nice at first until you started being an asshole with no real explanation of what I have done.” You answered simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“I didn’t do that.” Ellie lied.

“You totally did!” You protested. “We were vibing, you were like telling me about your life and I was telling you about mine and you were fucking laughing. Now, you don’t even crack a smile.”

“I smi-”

“You do not, Ellie!” You took a deep breath before starting again. “I thought we were going to be friends. I wanted to be friends. You’re funny and hot, but you’re being a real bitch right now and I don’t like that. I’ve done it before and I really don’t have the heart in me to do it again.”

Ellie blinked at you a few times, the guilt from giving you the cold shoulder finally setting in. A part of her really wanted to blush at the compliments thrown her way, but she was overwhelmed by the idea that her behavior was mirroring Cat’s. You really were an innocent party in all of this and she took her frustrations out on you, the cute pen dealer.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just been going through a tough time.” She lied, not wanting to reveal that the person you’re comparing her too right now is the reason she’s been acting this way. “ I know what that’s like, my ex was like that too and I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

She saw your hard exterior falter at her sentiment and the guilt inside Ellie began to build again.

“I had no idea, Ellie, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to push but if you ever want to talk about what’s going on, I am here.” You seemed completely genuine and that tore Ellie’s heart to bits. In an attempt to be kind you reached out and placed your hand on Ellie’s forearm again, right over the tattoo. “Plus, he didn’t deserve you.”

Ellie couldn’t help but snort at the comment, earning a confused look from you.

“She.” Ellie laughed. “She didn’t deserve me.”

You covered your hands with your face laughing at your own heteronormativity.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” You apologized, moving your hands from your face to stare at her freckled own trying not to burst out laughing again.

“You really couldn’t tell?” Ellie teased, gesturing to her forearm tattoo, earning a giggle from you and a red face from her.

“I mean, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.” You teased back. “She’s smart, she’s funny, and she likes girls? Nuh-uh, too good to be true.”

As funny as the situation was, Ellie felt a deep warmth at your words. She wanted to believe you were flirting with her, but as of two minutes ago you had thought she was straight.

“Good with her fingers too. The whole package.” She added, a dimly lit fire behind her eyes.

“Oh yeah?” You feigned surprise. “I wouldn’t know. She should show me.” You leaned forward, pushing your laptop to the side table and getting dangerously close to Ellie.

Ellie almost choked on her own spit as you leaned closer. She eyed you up and down, her eyes lingering a little bit longer on the space between shirt and skin where she could see your cleavage poking through.

Without hesitation, Ellie threw her notebook to the side, leaned in and captured your lips with hers. You reciprocated immediately, your tongue trying to fight it’s way into her mouth. She parted her lips for you causing a moan to slip out of your mouth into hers. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Ellie’s mind was racing. What the fuck was she doing, she thought. Not even an hour ago she was barely talking to you and now the sounds that were coming out of your mouth were about to make her come undone. Her hands wandered down your body, tracing the curves of your hips before slipping under your shirt. The feeling of her warm hands on your skin sent shivers down your spine.

Again, you moaned softly into her mouth as she teased your nipples, rolling them between her fingers. Breaking the kiss, Ellie moved her lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Your hand moved to caress her hair, grabbing it lightly. She gently moved you backwards on your bed, never stopping her assault on your neck, not wanting your whines to stop. She was going to lose her fucking mind. As she worked her way down, her hand slipped into your pants, finding its way to your wet center. She began circling her fingers in what felt like slow motion as she peppered kisses along your collarbone.

“Ellie..” you moaned, causing her to look up at you. The minute she did, you pulled her head upwards, attaching your lips to hers once again. Ellie felt like she was fucking floating, but her movement never stopped. As she picked up her pace she reveled in how you were squirming beneath her. She made a mental note to remember this moment for later.

With practiced ease, Ellie slipped a finger inside you, eliciting a gasp from your lips and causing you to separate from her. She pumped in and out, curling her finger just right to hit the gummy spot inside and making you scream out her name one more time. “You’re doing so fucking good.” Ellie soothed, pressing a kiss to your neck. You writhed against her hand, your hips bucking in rhythm with her movements.

As your pleasure built to a crescendo, Ellie added a second finger, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and you came hard, your body shaking with pleasure.

Ellie pulled her hand out of your pants, licking her fingers clean with a satisfied smirk on her face. Your body relaxed into the bed as you tried to catch your breath. She sat back up, nearly panting, but still soaking wet.

“Well, that was quite the show,” you managed to say between gasps. Ellie grinned and leaned in for another kiss before sitting back on her knees. “Looks like you'll have to show me what you've got too, baby."

E: I FUCKED HER.

D: WHAT????

D:.. who?

D: if it’s cat i’m going to go to wherever you are and break your rib.

E: Not Cat.

D: YOU DIDN’T.

D: cute project partner?

E: Yes.

D: it’s giving u-haul lesbian

E: It’s giving best sex of my life.

D: really??

E: REALLY. And I did all the work.

D: you are a freak

E: She’s so fucking hot… I don’t know what to do with myself.

E: I can’t do this project with her, I’m just gonna think about finger fucking her the whole time.

E: I miss her.

D: oh my god

D: get a grip

E: I’m TRYING.*(@HFh3uq9)(U

D:...

D: anyways.

D: are you coming to the party tonight?

E: I will be there.

Later that night Ellie found herself tucked into a sweaty frat party. Dina and Jesse really wanted to go and Ellie was still somewhat disoriented from her morning with you so she thought there was no better place to sober up. She was nursing a red cup with a brown colored liquid inside when she almost keeled over at the sight in front of her. There you stood in an impossibly tight dress, throwing back the very same gross drink Ellie had in her cup. Ellie looked around for any sight of Dina or Jesse but assumed they had found a quiet spot to make out and grind on each other for the rest of the night

She watched from the wall as you threw your hands in the air and started dancing to the very loud music with your friends. You were obviously drunk, but it was still nice to see the carefree side of you that she wasn’t able to see in the classroom. In your dorm room, however-

“Ellie!” You screamed across the dimly lit room, stumbling towards her and bringing her in for a tight hug. Ellie tried to say your name as enthusiastically as you had hers, but her voice got lost as you pressed your body up against hers.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, the giddiness in your voice shining through. You were standing ridiculously close to her with your hand on the wall behind her, right above her head. You were smiling as wide as you possibly could and Ellie couldn’t help the smile on her face that grew each moment she was in your presence.

“Looking for you, obviously.” She teased, eyeing you up and down causing you to giggle into the crook of your neck. Her hand moved up to pinch at your waist, her eyes now steady on yours.

“Aw, look who’s all confident after fucking me.” Your smirk, coupled with the already free flowing alcohol in her system, caused her to laugh. “We’ll see how confident you are after my turn.”

Ellie swore you were going to kiss her, and you almost had if it wasn’t for your name being called behind you by your friends who gestured at you to come. You turned to look at them and nodded before you turned back to Ellie.

“We’re going to another party? Want to come with?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound as desperate as you felt.

Ellie sighed, looking around the room for Dina but seeing no sight of her. What Ellie did know was that Dina wouldn’t leave the house without her, and it was an unspoken rule that she would never leave the party without Dina. She wanted to leave with you, but girlcode takes priority.

“I can’t.” She responded. “I’m with friends and I can’t leave them.” Ellie hates to admit this, but she took great pride at the sight of your face falling.

“Oh well, see you Monday.” You somberly replied, waving goodbye and running to join your friends.

“See you Monday.” Ellie said under her breath, practically to herself as you were already out of sight.

Ellie found herself upstairs after that, searching for Dina and Jesse so she could go home. However, she found someone she wasn’t looking for, or rather, they found her.

A cold hand tapped Ellie’s shoulder, causing her to turn around in relief that Dina had found her.

“Dina, thank go-” Her words got caught in her throat as she saw her ex standing in front of her with a sickly sweet smile on her face.

“Ellie! So good to see you, I see the tattoo is healing?” She began, ignoring the dirty look Ellie was throwing her way.

“What do you want, Cat?” Ellie spat. It was evident that Cat wasn’t being nice, and Ellie wanted her to get to the point.

“Well, I just wanted to say how cute it was that you would flirt with my ex to make me jealous.” She disclosed, the smile on her face strong.

“I wasn’t trying to ma-”

“It worked, I’m jealous.” She simply stated, moving closer to Ellie. Ellie was frozen, never in a million years would she ever think that Cat would be saying any of this. She leaned in close to whisper in Ellie’s ear.

“Swing by my dorm room tomorrow, my roommates are gone for the weekend.” She pulled away from Ellie, smiled again, and patted her on the chest before walking away back into the party.

And to be completely honest, Ellie wasn’t sure what she was going to do.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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twsted-kinks · 1 year

Text

Biology Nerd (Malleus X Yuu/Reader)

>minors and ageless dni<

MC/Reader goes by Yuu and gender neutral and fat (I don't really mention that but this is self indulgent and I'm fat so reader is fat)

Something kinda fluffy for once with a bit of spice and a dash of angst

Content Warning: cultural and biological differences, Yuu not knowing about cultural differences and doing romantic and sexual things with others, Malleus letting Yuu touch him inappropriately but Yuu doesn't understand that touching him like that is very intimate and/or sexual for fae/dragons, Malleus being absolutely smitten, some slight Malleus angst about him being lonely, Grim being scared, dragon cuddles

(I'm probably gonna write more spec biology stuff with twst but idk)

Yuu will be the first to say that suddenly being ripped from your home and put into a completely different world where everything you know no longer exists or applies to reality fucking sucks. But, Yuu will also admit that they love having a whole new world to learn about. Learning the basics of a whole knew evolutionary and sociological history with multiple sapient species that are both human and non human while having access to a full college library? Sign them the FUCK up! Crowley was thankful for Yuu's enthusiasm. Simply allowing full access to the library appeased them. Grim did not have fun at first, but having a human look at him in awe helped. Yuu was so curious about his ability to speak and his connection to fire magic. They would not stop asking him so many questions!

Yuu went around learning with wide eyes like a toddler. They at least knew not to just randomly touch people and that it's inappropriate to ask in the first place, but still, they would not stop staring. Leona, Ruggie, and Jack can constantly feel Yuu's eyes on their ears and tails. Leona gets annoyed and snaps at Yuu usually while Ruggie will let Yuu touch then in exchange for either money or food. Jack doesn't comment on it while Yuu does nothing to try to touch him, and Jack is happy to keep it that way.

Floyd and Jade find Yuu's reactions to them to be greatly entertaining. During their first interaction, all of Yuu's friends immediately ran, but Yuu stayed, just staring up at the twins.

"I like y'all's teeth." And with a few simple words, the tweels were glued to Yuu. Yuu is always excited to see their mer form, but will gladly settle on hanging out with the tweels when they got legs. Yuu also enjoys being on teeth cleaning duty. They get to look at cool sharp teeth and a second jaw. They also get free food from the twins, and all they got to do is clean some teeth? Hell yeah! Azul could inform Yuu about what Floyd and Jade opening their mouths means for eel mer culture, but this little arrangement keeps the two out of trouble. Plus, Azul is afraid Yuu will go on a question asking tangent and will ask about Azul's mer form, and he does not want to deal with that.

The species and cultures Yuu knows the least about is the fae. Yuu honestly didn't even notice that fae were a thing until Ace pointed out the ppinty ears, and Yuu just went :o "Holy shit" :D "That's so cool!" Then there was Yuu's first time meeting Malleus. Should Yuu be more concerned about a stranger just wandering around outside their dorm? Yes, but he has HORNS! The first words spoken between the dragon fae and little magicless human were:

"Wow, your horns are pretty."

Malleus was taken aback by this human, just talking to him casually, complimenting his horns, and smiling at him with so much wonder. Even though Malleus never gave his name, his friendship with the human grew fast. Yuu came up with a multitude of names for Malleus, having a new one each time they met. Horton, Sir Hornington, Goth Babe, Briar Boy, Fae Bae, and more, but a few reoccurring ones Malleus adores. Malmal is the most recent iteration of his name that has stuck around the longest. But,, whenever Malleus visits Yuu upset, Yuu always calls him sweetie and tries to comfort him. It's gotten to a point that the Yuu always keeps a tub of ice cream in their freezer specifically for when Malleus is upset.

Malleus always knew Yuu had an interest in the different cultures and species of the Twisted Wonderland, but he didn't understand just how fascinated you were until the time for Halloween came and Yuu saw Malleus's tail for the first time. Malleus remembers it clearly. Yuu stopped a couple feet away from him, gasped, and then screamed "CHONKY TAIL!!!" The human immediately went behind Malleus, started admiring his tail, and asked so many questions. One of them being if they can touch it, and he let you, much to the dismay of Sebek who was trying to get Yuu to be more respectful. Lilia was the only one to pick up on the blush on Malleus's ears. Yuu did mistake Malleus's tail as a part of the costume, not realising it was actually a part of him at first, and apologized, but Malleus assured you it was alright and that the can keep touching his tail. He didn't mind at all.

Now, Malleus almost abuses the admiration Yuu has for his tail. Lilia, Sebek, and Silver absolutely notice his tendency to approach them and, if they were focusing on something that isn't him, Malleus will fwip out his tail and Yuu would become entranced. Yuu just adores Malleus's tail and, whenever given the chance, will touch it, pet it, even just hold it. Malleus finds it endearing and adorable.

And well, Yuu already has permission to touch his tail, why not ask Malleus if they can learn more about his anatomy? Yuu asks to touch Malleus's horns one day. Yuu’s already stepped over the line with touching his tail, so why not let Yuu touch his horns? Malleus has now turned into Yuu's personal lapcat much to Grim’s dismay. Malleus has gifted the human with a kit for horn cleaning and visits Ramshackle regularly so he can rest his head in Yuu’s lap and have them clean his horns. Yuu is pretty sure Malleus dirties his horns on purpose just so they wil clean them, but they don't mind.

One day though, during the weekend, Yuu invites Malleus over for a full-blown sleepover. Malleus is ecstatic and quickly informs his entourage. Sebek is fully against it while Lilia and Silver think this wil be good for Malleus, though Silver wants the three of them to tag along as well. It takes some convincing, but Lilia convinces the other to let Malleus have his alone time with the child of man. Malleus packs his essentials and teleports to Ramshackle to find the prefect and Grim gathering pillows and blankets, getting materials ready to build a pillow fort.

Malleus has an absolute blast. Such simple games and activities he’s never experienced before, Malleus enjoys it all. Everything is going smoothly, Malleus is relaxing, face cuddled into Yuu’s chest. A moving picture plays on the human’s little screen device while Grim snores as he sleeps on a pillow twice his size. Yuu is petting Malleus's hair, running their fingers through it when they pause at his bangs. They shift the hair covering his forehead and gasps.

“You got scales there?” Yuu says in astonishment as they study the black scales on Malleus's forehead.

“Hm? Have you not seen them before now?” Malleus asks.

“I guess I haven't.” Yuu runs their fingers across the scales. “They're pretty. I'm surprised you don't have more scattered around.”

“Oh, I do, but I find others are less intimidated when they're hidden. My clothing preferences hide a majority, but I also utilize magic to hide some of the more obvious ones.”

“But they're so pretty!” Yuu whines but then backpedals. “I mean- If you feel more comfortable hiding them then go ahead, but I bet they're very pretty.”

“Glamor is common among the fae. Changing my skin takes little effort and is of little consequence.”

“You mean your makeup?”

“It is similar to that, yes.”

“Huh, well it's your face.” Yuu shrugs. “You can do want you want, but I bet you look cute with your scales out.”

And with that, the fae leans up and parts of his face shift, revealing small scales around his outer eyes, below and behind his ears, and along the back and sides of his neck. Yuu stares at Malleus, making the fae worry for a moment, until, suddenly, the human’s hands are on Malleus's cheeks.

“Holy shit!” Yuu squees as they look over Malleus's face. “How the fuck did you make yourself prettier!”

The dragon fae’s eyes are wide for a moment, the tips of his ears a light pink, and then he chuckles. “You are truly unique, child of man.”

“Me?” Yuu laughs. “You're the one with scales here! Just- look at how the light refracts off of them! They look black, but then the light bounces off and parts of them look purple!”

“Oh?” Malleus has never noticed that before.

“You even got little ones here too!” One of Yuu’s hands moves to Malleus's ear, fingers tracing the shell.

Malleus freezes then gulps. Yuu’s fingers run up the edge of his ear, pauses at the top, then runs back down to his lobe. Malleus buries his face back into Yuu’s chest. The tips of Malleus's ears burn red, he hopes Yuu doesn't notice.

“Ah, shit.” Yuu pulls their hand away. “Do you have sensitive ears? I should've asked.”

“It’s alright.” Malleus pulls away slightly and murmurs. “It felt nice. I do not mind you touching my ears.”

“You sure?”

“I would like for you to continue.” Malleus says with a thump coming after when his tail hits the floor.

“What? Want me to massage your ears and tail?” Yuu asks with a chuckle. “Need me to get your back too?”

“Yes, that should be adequate.”

Yuu laughs, brings both of their hands to Malleus's ears, and begins to rub them. Malleus lets out a deep sigh as he practically melts under the human’s touch. Yuu continues rubbing the dragon falls ears and and coos "If you want me to get your back, you're gonna need to move."

"No." Malleus hums into Yuu's chest. "Ears now. Focus on my ears."

"Alright, alright." Yuu chuckles. What Yuu doesn't know is just how intimate this is for fae. Touching a fae's ears is considered a very intimate activity done between mates because their ears are a major erogenous zone. At this point, Malleus isn't sure about his relationship with Yuu, but Yuu touching his ears feels right to him. The fae's eyes dilate as his breathing becomes heavier the more Yuu touches his ears. The end of Malleus's tails lightly thumps onto the floor again and again.

"I don't get it." Yuu moves one of their hands into Malleus's hair and runs their fingers down to feel the scales on his neck. "I don't get how people can be so scared of you when you're basically an oversized puppy but reptilian."

A deep vibration grumbles from Malleus's chest and he lifts himself up, facing Yuu. The whites of his eyes have turned a glowing green and more scales have appeared encasing most of his neck and shoulders. The thin tips of a forked tongue poke out from and slip back into his mouth.

Yuu cups both of Malleus's cheeks in their hands and smiles. "Just a big adorable boy."

The sound of ripping fabric startles Yuu for a moment as black wings begin to tear their way from the back of Malleus's night shirt and spread open. Yuu looks at them, eyes wide, as they reach out and touch the leathery skin.

"You are truly extraordinary, child of man."

"Says the man who just sprouted wings in front of me."

"But you do not look at me with fear. You do not look at me with an otherworldly reverence. When you look at me you..." Malleus rests his hand over the one against his cheek.

"Malmal." Yuu's face shifts to a look of worry. "You okay? You can talk to me if you want."

Malleus gazes at Yuu. There' so much he wants to say, but he hesitates.

"But-" Yuu adds. "If you don't feel like talking now, we can just keep cuddling, or do you want me to massage your tail? Or maybe your wings?"

Malleus smiles. "I would enjoy that."

~~Meanwhile~~

"Hornton is gonna kill my henchman!" Grim runs on all four into the Diasomnia dorm, screaming at the top of his lungs. He quickly gains the attention of some dorm members including Sebek and Lilia (who drags a sleeping Silver behind him).

"How dare you use such a name for the Young Master!" Sebek is screaming back. Silver finally wakes up from all of the screaming, so him and Lilia get Grim and Sebek to stop screaming and have Grim finally explain why he's there.

"I heard a ripping sound and woke up to see big wings and a pair of glowing eyes on top of my henchman. That prince of yours is going to eat them!"

"Oh?" Lilia coos with a smirk. "I don't think that will be happening, at least not the type you're thinking. Still, I have not had the talk yet with that boy, so maybe we should drop by before we're stuck with a political crisis."

With a quick teleportation spell, all four are just outside the Ramshackle Dorm. The door is slammed open to reveal a dragon (that is way too big to be in the common area) curled up, sleeping like a cat, with a little human laying across his snout and forehead, passed out with a smile on their face.

#twst writings #twst x reader #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu

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pullhisteeth · 1 year

Note

hello, lovely! so so happy to see you writing again, you're really one of my fave writers here 🥹 if you want, would you mind writing a fluffy best friends to lovers one with eddie where he accidentally overhears nancy and robin talking about reader's feelings for him, and how the reader feels like she should just give up on her feelings towards eddie because it seems like a hopeless case lmao i'm sorry if it's too specific! ily ❤️

hi! I love you!!! I'm so sorry this took so long, I got stuck in the middle of it with no way out, so I scrapped it and started again. I hope you love it. thank you for the kindest message, you're a star xxx

contains some dubious eavesdropping and lots of fluff. somethin' suggestive towards the end but nothing huge. :-)

[3k (ish)]

“Hey, handsome.”

Eddie turns to the door. There you are, between the edge of it and the doorframe, socked feet on the step. You’ve got your hands behind your back and you want something.

He smiles at you softly and reaches his hand out without a word. He watches you return the smile and step down onto the porch and towards him. You lift your hand, take the lit cigarette from between his two fingers and lean on the post opposite him.

His eyes linger as you pull it between your lips and inhale, eyes fluttering shut and cheeks hollowing.

“You look nice today,” he tells you.

Your eyes open slowly as you turn your head to look at him. You bring the cigarette down and hold it out to him, twisting back towards the road to blow the smoke out of the corner of your mouth.

As he takes it from you, you say, “Thanks.”

“New top?”

You nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“‘S’pretty. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” you say through another smile. This one’s sly, coy, a wall because he’s complimented you twice and that’s at least one time too many for you. He likes the way he can see how your cheeks warm and how you shift your weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting to stop yourself swooning.

You watch cars go by and listen to the distant sound of Robin’s laugh inside the house, passing the cigarette between the two of you until it’s nothing more than a butt. Eddie throws it onto the gravel at the foot of the porch steps, being gracious enough to save the Wheelers’ nicely varnished wood from being ruined by ash and a filter, and does his best to stomp it out without shoes on.

“Your sock’s gonna get wet,” you tell him.

“‘S’okay,” he says, hopping back up onto the porch and swaying about until he reaches the front door. “C’mon. There’s a mean game of Irish snap waiting for us in there.”

You hum again, only this time it’s a sadder sound. He feels the skip of his heart and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“‘M’gonna stay out here a minute. Need some air.”

“Oh,” he breathes. He takes half a step back towards you. “Okay. You want company?”

You shake your head and it rips something within him. It aches. “I’ll only be a second.”

The ache yawns open somewhere in his chest but he surrenders, returning to the door and leaving it ajar for you as he goes back inside. His mind stays with you as he moves through the house, eyes on his feet and the damp spot on the side of his left sock.

He passes the stairs and as he rounds the corner, he stops dead at the sound of your name.

His ears perk up like an animal and he moves, without thinking, so his back is against the wall.

“-And I get why she feels like that, you know?”

Robin’s pacing. He hears the soft thump of her fluffy slippers each time she takes another step on the carpet.

“She just…” Nancy sighs. “Surely she should try to tell him?”

“Nance, c’mon. You’re, like, the smartest person I know.”

“I just…”

“Nance.”

“He’s just… They’re so close, there’s probably so much we don’t see.”

“She tells us everything.”

Eddie catches his breathing getting heavier and stops, holding it at the hilt with lungs full of air. His hands are splayed across the wall behind him and he’s leaning with all his might, willing the floorboards beneath his feet to stay quiet just for a few moments more. His ears strain because to his right, Steve, Argyle and Jonathan are having some kind of cruelly-timed debate about pizza crusts in the kitchen.

“We can’t know that,” Nancy says. Eddie thinks she sounds sad; he can hear her mouth turning down in the shape of her words, and her fingers are drumming across the glass-topped coffee table, her anxious tell.

“We’ve known her long enough. And we’ve known him long enough. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“She just seemed so sad. I wish she’d try.”

“It’s not worth it,” Robin tells her, words short and frank. Her repetitive footsteps stop. “Clearly.”

Nancy hums.

“He’s hopeless,” Robin continues. “She’s been pining after him for what? A year?”

“More than that,” Nancy says quietly.

“Exactly! She deserves to be happy, we want her to be happy. So she has to-”

“Move on,” Nancy offers.

“Right.”

“But… We see him all the time. He’s our friend.”

“I guess we just… Help her through it,” Robin says. “Get Steve to set her up or something. Surely we know someone who’s far removed enough from Eddie?”

The colour has drained from Eddie’s face, seeping down his body and through his damp socks and into the floor. The hands keeping him steady on the wall are rendered useless, because he can feel them clamming up and slipping down the tasteless wallpaper the Wheelers have covered their hallway in. He slowly pushes himself up to stand and his head spins, the gaudy florals on the walls blurring to crisp bursts of colour.

What the fuck?

What the fuck did he just listen to?

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have listened; it was a private conversation, a private conversation about you. And yet he can’t bring himself to move, ears trained solely on the now-quieter mumblings between Nancy and Robin about how to cheer you up, and…

Andy.

Eddie’s stomach turns at the four letters as he hears Robin say them, louder than she’d been before, bright like a lightbulb.

Andy.

He lives down the street from Nancy, in a big house with a wrap-around porch and a mailbox Eddie probably knocked over at some point in his early teens. He has a good car - better than Steve’s, even - and wears ugly, pasty polo-neck sweaters and pristine tennis shoes. He probably plays tennis, Eddie thinks.

He’s everything Eddie knows your parents would love. Hell, he’s heard you complain more times than you should ever have had to about the sly comments your mother makes, the garden parties and barbecues you’re dragged to on hot Saturdays with the sole purpose of setting the two of you up.

“She hates him,” Eddie hears Nancy tell Robin flatly, their voices hushed again but just loud enough for him to do exactly what he knows he should not be doing.

“But he’s interested,” Robin whines.

“Only ‘cause her parents try so hard. He’s awful, Rob.”

“At least he’d try! I bet he’d take her to Enzo’s if we asked him to.”

“Rob,” Nancy hisses. “You can’t be serious.”

Eddie thought his stomach had dropped out of him a while ago, at the first mention of your name, but he’d been wrong, because he gets that awful sinking feeling once more when he hears the front door close.

In the seconds that follow, everything happens both incredibly quickly and painfully slowly, the way a car crash does, or watching someone fall. You round the corner, footsteps softening as you tread over the rug. Nancy and Robin’s hushed voices stop. Steve throws something at the bin in the kitchen. He misses. Argyle and Jonathan shout. You look up from watching your feet, and your eyes find him, wide and unsure. Eddie dies.

Well, whatever he’s feeling is what he imagines dying is like. There’s a cacophony of sensations and emotions bursting from within his body: firstly, there’s nerves, taking the form of butterflies the way they always do when he looks at you. They’re followed by a wave, though, of shame and, later, dread. He shouldn’t be here. He thinks you have worked out that he shouldn’t be here. He can hear Robin’s slippers again, only they’re getting closer this time, and then she’s at the door, right by his left ear. He can’t tear his eyes off you.

She calls your name, once in a tone so soft Eddie’s surprised it came from her mouth, and then again, only more confused.

He sees her in his peripheral vision as she leans her head around the doorframe and finds him with his back against the wall. She gasps, a quiet, wobbly noise, and then Nancy’s there, too.

You’re still standing a few paces from him, damp socks on the rug, looking at him with an expression that he cannot read.

“Eddie?” you call and he wants to die, he seriously wants to die. The world should swallow him whole for this, spit him out in the pits of Tartarus, let Cerberus have his way with him.

“Oh, god,” he hears Nancy say slowly from her spot beside Robin.

“Eddie,” you say again. “What’s wrong?”

Your face has crumpled into something between concern and remorse. Something unspoken hangs in the stuffy air of the hallway, broken only by the sounds of trash can basketball happening in the next room.

“Uh,” Robin drones, “We’ll, uh… We’re just gonna-” She slides out of the room, past Eddie, pulling Nancy with her by the wrist. “We’ll be in here,” she says, more to you than to him, an unspoken declaration that says come find us if you need us, before disappearing into the kitchen and closing the door.

He’s still looking at you, and you’re still looking at him. You’re about as pale as he feels as he stands upright again.

“What happened?” you ask him.

“I, uh… Fuck,” he stumbles, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the top of his nose. He catches your wince at the curse and the aggravated edge it comes out with. “Uh… Nance and Rob, they were… They mentioned you, I might have… Overheard a couple things.”

He looks away from you as he admits this, that wave of shame more akin to a tsunami now. He’s an asshole. He shouldn’t have listened.

But he did.

“I don’t…” You’re fiddling, fingers winding around fingers, standing before him looking more lost than ever. He chances a glance at you and your face is twisted in confusion. And then it relaxes, mouth agape, as realisation dawns.

“Oh.”

Warmth crawls up your neck. It spreads like wildfire behind your ears, across your scalp, over your cheeks. Everything is hot, the room’s too small, the air’s too close; more than anything, Eddie is too close.

He watches you fidget. You step forward, and your face drops again, wincing like you’re standing too close to a flame, so you step back and turn, moving away from him quicker than he can process. His call of your name falls on deaf ears and ends just as the front door shuts again.

He hears the shuffling of many feet behind the kitchen door but ignores it, pushing himself off the wall and through the hallway. The space is like water, the pressure pushing him down, keeping him from the fresh air - and you.

When he wrenches the front door open he’s hit first with the smell of rain, that hollow, metallic scent. And then it mixes with something like sorrow, and he feels it burrow into his bones, a deep-set melancholy he wants so desperately to fix.

You’re sitting on the porch steps, your back to him, hunched over with your head in your hands. The way your shoulders move gives you away; Eddie’s at your side quicker than he can think to breathe, touching you before really checking that you want that from him right now. It doesn’t seem to matter; you lean into him like always. You hiccup and sniffle, face pressed into his t-shirt without thought, and his arm sits around your shoulder and his fingers press into your shoulder.

“I’m here,” he says, unsteady. “You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you say into his chest. You lean back and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I didn’t… You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”

Eddie’s brain is working too quickly for him to keep up with, but he manages to tell you it’s okay. “I’m not mad,” he says, thumb pressing into your jaw, the pads of his fingers on your neck, checking you over.

“I’m mad,” you choke. There’s the hint of a laugh there and he can’t help but return it.

“That’s allowed,” he says. He’s surprising himself with how quickly he’s turned into something solid and reassuring. “Want a do-over?”

You look at him and he aches again, his nose burning. You’re flushed and your eyes are pinker than usual, and as his eyes dance over your lips he sees they’re wet from crying and ripe for kisses.

They twist into a smile and he decides that, for now, that’s better.

“Eddie,” you breathe, coy. You nudge him softly in the stomach with your elbow. “Fuck off.”

“What?” he laughs. “I can leave you out here, if you want. Maybe Andy will come save you from m-”

Your elbow hits his lowest rib this time, with far more force than before, and the gasp he pulls from you is almost comical.

“Eddie,” you hiss, “they did not-”

“Oh, Rob would set you up in a heartbeat.”

You groan and let your forehead fall to his shoulder. And it’s here, where he’s enveloped in the smell of rain and the feeling of you, that he feels something open in his chest, and he speaks before he can stop himself.

“He’s better than me, anyway,” he says quietly, fingers carding through the ends of your hair. “You’re too good for me. Some other boy would be better.”

“Other boys are boring,” you tell him, leaning back. Your voice is small and you can’t meet his eye but it’s the truth; he’s blind to it, apparently, but Eddie Munson is the only boy who has ever interested you. He is the only boy who listens, the only boy who sees you, the only boy you have any desire to know inside and out. You’re not sure you ever will know him completely, but if you spend the rest of your life trying, you’ll be happy doing it.

His fingers dance through the space between the two of you until they find yours, toying with the loose threads of denim at the frayed hem of your jeans. His bigger hand takes yours and you still can’t look him in the damn eye. You’d find a smile if you did, though.

He squeezes your hand and touches your chin lightly with the other, pressing the side of his index finger to the underneath of it to bring your face level with his own.

“Look at me,” he whispers. You obey, because it’s Eddie, and he’s so close and you can smell his uncle’s washing powder and the stubborn stain of pot and you love him.

“We could go for pizza,” he says, just as soft. “How’s Enzo’s?”

“You don’t have t’go fancy on me,” you whisper back. “I like Benny’s more.”

A grin splits his face and you match it, giggling.

“My girl likes burgers, huh?”

“Y’know I do,” you say, squeezing back. “Your girl?”

“Gotta take you on a date first,” he says. “Do it properly.”

“You’re startin’ to sound like a gentleman.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

Your breaths are one and the same by now, your mouths so close together that your vacant space has become his. Your eyes move between his eyes and his lips and you catch his doing the same, and there’s an ache somewhere between your legs that makes you pull your thighs together.

He dips his head just enough, thumb pushing into your chin to pull you closer. You let your eyes shut and feel his lips over yours, slow and distant, before you lean into him. He kisses you sweet, his hand smoothing over your jaw to hold your face like it’s made of gold, and he moves against you with certainty.

He’s determined and as his tongue meets yours you bend into it, relenting. It’s magic, just as you’d imagined all these years.

He releases your hand and grabs your waist in his firm grip. It starts to get slovenly, your hips against his thigh, his tongue everywhere, and your head’s starting to spin.

“You’re gettin’ ahead of yourself,” you say, panting, smiling, pulling back from him to look him in the eye again. He’s all browns, dark lashes and darker irises, never wavering from your sight. “Thought you had to take me on a date first.”

“You’re too pretty,” he says, kissing you gently at the corner of your mouth. His breath blooms across your skin as he speaks. “Got years of not kissin’ you to make up for.”

His fingers dig gently into your sides and you suck in a breath that’s half a giggle.

“Gotta get back at Rob and Nance,” you say as his mouth moves over your jaw and leaves a mark somewhere beneath your earlobe.

He hums and leans back, saying his goodbyes to your skin with one last peck to your cheek, just below your eye.

“I think we owe them,” he says. “I do, anyway. Was never gonna get my ass in gear. Coulda lost you to Andy.”

“Never,” you say without a beat.

“Never,” he says back.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #eddie munson requests #eddie munson request #eddie fic #eddie fanfic #eddie imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader

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starcrossedreaders · 1 year

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HI! This is my very first time asking for a request, am so nervous! I was wondering if you could write a short story with Re4r Leon were he and his fem! reader are both married and have meet each other in raccoon city and are separated from Ashley and run into Ada in the room were you solve that tile puzzle in the game and she flirts with Leon and says the line “I might give you that greeting you were looking for. And it makes the reader feel like she is not good enough for Leon and remembering the shared kiss both him and Ada had back at raccoon city. You can add more too it if you would like.

This is so cute, nothing beats a jealous lover to comfort. Hopefully, you love reading this as much as I loved writing it, Enjoy!

Author's Note: This is so cute, nothing beats a jealous lover to comfort. Hopefully, you love reading this as much as I loved writing it, I could not find this scene for the life of me so hopefully you will Enjoy it!

Warnings: jealous reader, mentions of death, guns, injuries, some fighting, little bit of angst

"Ashley wait!" Your hand reached out for the girl before a door slammed down causing the ground to shake.

"Fuck," Your hand slaps down to your side as you turn around to look at your partner, Leon.

"It's okay, we'll find a way to get to her." He unholsters his gun as he roams around the room to find a way out.

You and Leon had been attached at the hips since the police academy. Have being the first ones in the room you two naturally sat next to each other striking up a conversation. The moment Leon had stuck his hand out to greet you the connection was instant. From there on you guys did everything together, from hand-to-hand combat training to study partners you guys naturally gravitated towards each other. Like the sun and moon, Bonnie and Clyde, or Adam and Eve. So when it came time to choose a department to work at naturally you both went for Raccoon Police Department. This is when your troubles began, and your relationship furthered. After almost losing you Leon knew he had to make you his. Life is too short to not take risks. His messy confession and rosy cheeks had quickly led you guys into your 5th year of dating.

Government training was punishing and pushed you guys to the brink of extinction. That never stopped you guys from going onward, always moving, never stopping to enjoy the beauties of life. Which is what led you guys here. Trying to save the president's daughter was no easy task, not when bio-weapons and the past came to haunt you guys.

"Over here!" Leon called out to you from afar. His voice led you through a small tunnel into a bigger room than the last. In the middle of the room stood a podium with various tiles. Further past that was a door with a huge empty piece where you assumed the tiles went.

"Another fucking puzzle seriously?" Walking towards the podium you gathered the tiles and walked to the door.

"I'm tired of this weird village's antics, these puzzles are annoying." Leon only snorted in agreement as he stood at your side focusing on the task at hand.

"That one goes there," His gloved hand pointed to space in the puzzle.

Lifting the rather heavy tile it clicked into place causing the door to groan a bit.

"That's something I guess," You guys continued on with the puzzle before you heard a loud clank above you.

Whipping your head up to the noise you examined the ceiling.

"Did you hear that?"

"I'll go check it out." Leon pulls out his gun to look around the room while you continue the puzzle.

A few moments later you heard a few muffled words and a groan before the clicking of heels filled the room.

Those god-forsaken heels. The heels belonged to someone who has been the point of many arguments between you and Leon. The heels were filled by a beautiful federal agent who had ruined your self-esteem. How could she be so beautiful at a time like this? You looked like you have been through hell and back, dried blood coated your hands as your tank top was ripped. When the one and only Ada Wong looked like a model.

Turning around you watched as your own husband walked into the room with his hands up on either side of his head and Ada right behind him with a gun pointed at his head.

"Ada what a pleasant surprise," You turned back around to put another tile in the slot. The door shook the ground as dust fell around you.

"And who's this Leon?"

"I don't do greetings Ada," You sang your words as you placed another tile in.

This door started to move up a little bit. The crack was big enough to fit your hand through.

"Well, I might give you the greeting you were looking for," Ada's voice dripped with sexual tension as she utters those words towards your OWN husband.

Leon was getting impatient, the gun pointed at his head made him antsy. His hand moved slightly before he grabbed her wrist to make her drop the gun. Ada's foot flew through the air aiming for Leon's neck before he twisted and grabbed it just in time. This fight went on like this for a few heartbeats before Leon pulled his knife out on her.

Pressing it against her neck his voice grew deeper as he spoke, "A bit of advice, use knifes next time, it's better for close encounters,"

Ada could only smile as he slowly pulled the knife away strapping it back in its rightful place.

"I'm surprised, you're better than the rookie I last saw," She paced the room as she spoke to Leon.

"Yea, well, people change Ada,"

"Do they now?"

Your back faced the pair as you tried to focus on the puzzle at hand, the last few pieces were tripping you up, or maybe it was the small voice eating away at you. 'He still loves Ada.' 'You're just a filler for what he can't have.' 'You are the second choice, don't think otherwise.' Sighing heavily you tried to not focus on the past, but the present. You have a daughter to save, you can't be wallowing in your own self-pity.

"Well, why don't we test that out," The clicking of her heels stopped as she stood in front of Leon.

All your mind could do was race and think back to the events of Raccoon City. That horrid train ride was the worst ride you have ever been on. Watching Ada press her lips onto Leon's made you want to scream but watching Leon kiss her back made you want to cry. Nothing was as painful as that. Trying to steady your breathing you thought back to the kiss that you and Leon shared at the altar. That is the kiss that matters the most. Not the lousy kiss that he and Ada shared on the train. It had to, you are his wife for crying out loud, not some sleazy federal agent that teases men and almost gets them killed whenever she's around.

"Can you shut up Ada, I'm trying to figure this damn puzzle out, not listen to you ramble nonsense," She could only click her tongue.

"You should really teach your partner some manners Leon," He could snort out a small laugh.

Whipping your body around you walked over to the pair, "No Ada, I think you should really learn how to not be a liability. Every time you show up on these missions you almost get Leon killed. So why don't you go back to your little agency and stick your nose in someone else's mission. AND MIND YOUR OWN GOD DAMN BUSINESS!"

You didn't really need to yell during the last part but there's something about her stupid beautiful face that made you even more upset.

Turning around you placed the last tile in place. The door groaned as the ground shook. A few heartbeats later the door was fully open. You pulled your gun out with your flashlight underneath as you walked toward the dark and dusty room ahead.

"Y/N Wait," Leon called out for you as he jogged to catch up to you. Ada only shook her head as she shot her grappling hook up into the ceiling. The line zipped her up till she was gone.

Twisting your body from either side to side checking for anything that could harm you guys. You were very content with finishing this mission in silence. Leon on the other head was dead set and determined on figuring out what was wrong.

"Y/N stop, please," His hand landed on your elbow in hopes to stop you. Yanking it out of his grasp you tried to move forward once again.

Leon soon stopped right in front of you and grabbed your shoulders. "Y/N talk to me... what's wrong,"

Leon was always so attentive, "What was that back there?" His soft voice filled the dark room. Your arms slacked to either side of your body as your head dropped.

Small sniffles filled the room as your feelings hit you dead on. Leon's eyebrows furrowed as he heard your sniffles. "Hey, talk to me," His right hand reached up to cup your face and swipe your tears away.

You felt awful right now, you guys were on a mission to save the president's daughter, you should not be involving your own personal matters in your work life. Your shoulders moved up and down as a shiver ran down your body. Ada is not the woman he wants and loves but for some reason, it just doesn't feel that way when you see them together. The kiss during Raccoon City haunts you from the late hours of the night to the early hours of the morning. The rubber band he got you for your one-year anniversary sat heavily on your ring finger.

"I-it's just ugh- y'know what, forget it. We have more important matters at hand,"

"No. We're going to talk about it now, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong," His voice was stern as his grip tighten slightly.

"Fine! Everything about Ada makes my gut turn. I feel as if I'm not enough for you. Ada has everything I don't. I know we're married and that should mean something but- The kiss- it's just..." You ran out of breath as you revealed your hidden feelings to your husband.

Leon's grip lightened as he slowly dragged his hands down your arms to your wrists.

"Baby... You know she means nothing to me You are the one I want. You have everything she doesn't love. I married you because you have been there through everything, thick and thin. There is nothing and I mean nothing anyone can do or say that would tear me away from you. We're going to build the brightest future together, two kids, a white picket fence, maybe even a dog," Your slight laugh made Leon smile, a rare occurrence these's days, too bad you could barely see it.

Leon leaned his forehead against yours. "I love you, forever and always okay?" Leon pressed a chaste kiss against your chapped lips.

Leon could barely hear you as you whispered back to him, "Forever and always."

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yeyinde · 2 months

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Question about Straw House, Straw Dog Johnny! OK so he obviously has some brain trauma due to taking a bullet to the head and all, and we can see him shifting between thoughts and emotions in a way one can describe as volatile, but I've been dying to know... Does Johnny have moments of clarity, moments where who he was before being shot break through? If so, how lucid is he? Is he able to take stock of his surroundings, does he know he's got a captive in his bed? Does he wonder about his team mates, until his mind splinters and he returns to being a shell of a man in the woods?

sorry this took me so long to answer!! it got super long so i had to find ways to cut it down, but since i couldn't write this in Johnny's pov, i rambled. a lot.

but—to answer your question: yes and no lmao

i don't think he's fully gone. definitely delusional, grasping at nothing, and struggling to adjust to this civilian world where no one needs him. not even his teammates.

but he's cognisant, and in many ways, he's still Johnny. still Soap. but he is a victim of circumstances. he has untreated TBI (which outside of physical recovery does need therapy as well, especially to offset the emotional trauma that underlines it all), and he decided to pick one of the loneliest places in Canada to hide out in. maybe not the loneliest, but there's definitely a sense of disconnect when you move outside of the big cluster of cities near the border to the US, and nowhere else captures that primordial, almost cosmic sense of crushing aloneness quite like NWT (for me, at least lmao)

it's the social isolation, the feeling of worthlessness (because i do see him as someone who'd never retire from this, ever), and the loss of agency and familiarity that really send him spiralling. he's grasping at straws and sinking deeper into his terrible mental state. listless, in a way. and very, very angry. everything was ripped away from him in seconds and now he's stuck inside a cabin with nothing but his thoughts for company. and while we don't really know how he came to be squirreled away in NWT (specifically a patch of unorganised land outside of Wrigley), we know that it was not choice.

he still thinks of his teammates, remembers (vividly) everything that happened, but had no choice but to leave. there's a lot of resentment, though. he feels robbed. broken. useless. feels like he should be there with them when they hunt down Makarov, rather than sidelined like he has been. it festers. builds.

but then you come along.

a task, a mission. someone he can save. and even if he were fully cognisant, woke up perfectly fine one day, he'd still find ways to rationalise it. he does not, nor will he ever, see you as a captive. he did you a favour. he saved you. by any means necessary. even if those means are morally reprehensible and outright illegal. Soap is patting himself on the back for doing what needed to be done, and nothing anyone says will change his mind.

and if he was ever caught, he'll pretend to feel some sense of remorse for his actions. let people lead the discussion of how tragic what happened is and how truly sorry he is for the pain caused, but the entire time, he's plotting on how to get his family back. you're his. he found you. he'll never feel guilt over what he sees as a good deed. but i think he can be convinced to feel remorse over sneaking into your bed.

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zoeysdamn · 2 years

Text

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.1

Summary: The Hanahaki disease, when flowers start to grow in the lungs of people experiencing unrequited or one-sided love. You never thought Xavier would be the reason you'd start to cough petals.

Warnings: angst, mention of blood

A/N: okay this is the first time ever writing on the show Wednesday and on Xavier so this is definitely not proof-read but I'm weak for the sad artistic blorbo blblbl

[Masterlist]

Through blurry eyes you could barely recognize where you were. Sure, the stone arches looked vaguely familiar and maybe the floor you were laying on was too. But right now, everything felt so far away, not the rough surface of the stone floor under your palms, the smell of burning fire in through your nostrils nor the panicked screams seemed able to reach you. The only thing you could feel was the plaguing weight inside of your chest, crushing your lungs under its unforgiving pressure.

You coughed, mouth filled with blood and stained petals. At every cough it felt like your throat and chest were lit on fire and tears escaped the corner of your eyes. This pain should be familiar by now, it has grown stronger for weeks. Still, it hurt like a bitch and now the pain had numbed everything else.

In the distance, green lightning and clashes of steel were the last of your worries. Even if you tried, you couldn’t care less about all of this because your whole body just hurt so much. Someone shouted, closer this time. God, when would this excruciating feeling of your heart and lungs being squeezed to death ever stop? Something dropped beside you. Or was it someone? You tried to say something, at least to say you were still alive. Nothing but gurgled sounds came out of you; words were stuck with the blood and flowers that had been growing inside of your chest and crawling out of your throat for the past weeks.

Someone ripped your jacket open and pressed something on your plexus. Once, twice, a third time and on, repeatedly. Trying to force some of those flowers out to get you some air. They called you. Another hand cradled your cheek and a face came into your blurred vision. Even on the verge of death you could recognize those hazel hair and brown eyes anywhere. The pathetic attempt at calling out Xavier’s name only came out as a weak wheeze, as more blood dripped from your mouth.

As the crushing feeling in your chest grew even heavier, at a point where your own body couldn’t take it anymore, you felt yourself slip away. When your vision went black, you wondered how things could have turned differently.

2 MONTHS EARLIER

It happened for the first time during fencing class.

All the students had stopped their practice to stare at the intense sparring between Bianca and the new student cladded in black. Mask tucked under your arm, you didn’t miss a second of their pride-filled match.

“Never thought I'd see Bianca having her ass kicked in fencing” you whispered.

Next to you, Xavier let out a chuckle.

“You did beat her several times last year if I reckon”

That made you snort, “Yeah, like I said, I never saw someone do it, I was too busy actually succeeding at it.”

To be honest, it was a tight match between you and Bianca on who was the best in the fencing team. But you had backed down when she and Xavier had started dating ; you didn’t want his new girlfriend to hate your guts more than she already could. Being Xavier’s childhood friend had made things awkward in the beginning of their relationship. You couldn’t say she was really fond of you now, but at least you were civil to each other.

Bianca’s opponent executed a pirouette to dodge the siren’s attack and you let out a low whistle.

“Woah, guess Wednesday does know her shit,” you said in admiration.

Xavier’s head snapped to you, eyes wide. “You know her?”

“New roommate apparently,” you casually answered. At his lack of response you glanced at him, only to catch him mesmerized by the fencing match. Or rather, by your new gothic roomie. That made you frown slightly. Not even when he was with Bianca did you ever see Xavier with such a look of adoration. “Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately, too focused on the match. Like he hadn’t heard you. You nudged his arm slightly, making him realize that you had asked him something.

“I think I know her from before,” he muttered.

He had answered you. But he had not granted you a single glance. You had known him for so very long, you shouldn’t have been bothered by that. After all, he was free to do whatever he wanted. But his strange fascination for this new student felt strange to you for some reason. Something in your chest didn’t feel right, like a starting cough. Feeling your throat starting to tingle, you sneezed once, twice, covering your nose for decency. Something soft landed on your hand as you sneezed but before you had time to see what it was a collective gasp made your head snap up. Wednesday kneeled on the floor, a clean cut painting her pale cheek in red. That made you gasp, too. She just lost.

Before Bianca could loathe anymore, the brunette gathered herself and hurriedly left the room, stiff as ever. You stepped aside like the other students to let her through. She was probably going to the infirmary to get her cheek checked.

“Well, that was weird,” you said with a dry chuckle. Then you turned toward your friend, “Are you down for another match, Xav?”

He didn’t answer you again. His eyes were still glued to where Wednesday had disappeared a few moments ago. It wasn’t intentional probably, but the negligence of your childhood friend made your chest ache.

“Xavier?” you called him.

“I- uh sorry Y/N, I gotta go”, he mumbled pensively before excusing himself out of the room.

Dumbfounded by his sudden departure, you looked at Ajax.

“What’s gotten him?” you asked him.

The gorgon only shrugged, “Dunno. It’s not the first time he had acted strange, eh?”

You nodded, he had made a point. You had known Xavier for a long time and knew him pretty well, but this time you couldn’t understand his behavior.

“Wanna do another match?”

“Thanks Ajax,” you said with a small smile, “but I think I’m gonna hit the sho-”

A fit of cough interrupted you, your chest burning with an itching sensation. It felt like something was stuck in your throat, and the coughs intensified until it disappeared only a few moments later. When the itching stopped, you looked at the gorgon apologetically.

“I think this is the sign for me to call it a day,” you joked. “Too bad, you could have actually beat me in this state.”

He snorted and nudged you playfully to the exit of the room, telling you he would have totally beat you anyway. As soon as you came out of the room, you opened your clenched hand. At the sight of five white flower petals, you frowned.

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself.

Your day had just become a lot weirder than you thought.

Fortunately, by the time you had stepped out of the shower the sneezes and other weird petals-coughing had stopped. So you had brushed away the thought, thinking it might be related to your late gardening the previous night. You had spent half of the night tending to your collection of plants and had almost fallen asleep on the workbench.

Returning to your room, you were met by the sight of your roommates, Enid and Wednesday in what appeared to be a glaring contest in the middle of the room.

“Already at each other’s throats?” you asked, making Enid humph and plopping on her bed with a pout.

The brunette eyed you meticulously, like she was analyzing every detail about you.

“It’s nice to meet you officially Wednesday,” you said with a small nod of your head. For what you had heard from Enid, she wasn’t the type to enjoy any unnecessary physical contact.

“You must be Y/N” she observed sharply, “Principal Weems had mentioned that I was to be plagued with two roommates.”

You nodded, not taking the icy comment personally. “I am. Though I’m very mindful of everyone’s personal space considering that I also cherish mine.”

“Perfect” said Wednesday sharply. “I also understood you were quite a fitting fencing partner.”

“You did?” you asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Xavier mentioned it,” she said.

“You talked with Xavier?” you asked with a surprised frown.

The way her eyes narrowed at every one of your reactions wasn’t missed.

“He talked at the infirmary. Just helped me to get out of a murder attempt.”

“A what now?” you asked with a dry chuckle.

“A WHAT??” Enid screamed.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at your blond roommate’s reaction. With a flick of your wrist and a simple mumbled incantation, the torrent of question the werewolf had started to ramble turned into silence. Enid gave you an outraged face at your actions, throwing silent threats at you before returning to her bed and pout. The ever so slight twitch of Wednesday’s eyebrow showed that you might actually have impressed her.

“Witch” you said simply, pointing at yourself. “Silencing spells comes out handy here.”

“Quite impressive,” said Wednesday in her usual flat tone. “Thorpe had failed to mention your actual useful assets.”

The thought that he hadn’t talked about your powers wasn’t odd. The both of you had basically grown up together when your aunt had started to drop you frequently at his dad’s house when you were kids. Your aunt was quite popular in the witch community and was good friends with Xavier’s equally famous father. When you ended up in her care after your mom’s passing, you gained a new friend in Xavier. By now he was used to your powers; it felt normal to him.

“Well if you ever need a fencing partner, you know where to find me”

She tsked, sharply returning to her chair to sit in front of her typewriter, “Although I’m not sure to step in the fencing room ever again, it is a reassuring thought to have someone able to actually stab efficiently in the same room as I.”

You chuckled at her words, “My pleasure.”

Seeing that she wasn’t listening anymore to dedicate her time to writing, you plopped down on your bed, opening one of your history books to go through the last lesson. Everyone at Nevermore knew you were kind of a hardcore student, often spending free time practicing your abilities or studying. Even if your aunt hadn’t been the most present parent, she had always made sure you had the best tutors to teach you witchcraft. In the early years you had been under her care, you had been quick to understand that excellent grades and results were what made you worthy in her eyes; not that you thought less of her – witches were prideful beings and big on family glory. Now you weren’t trying to get her attention through scholarship anymore, but good habits of studying stayed.

So it wasn’t unusual for you to get a text from Xavier asking if you could help him with some assignment, like he just did.

Glancing from your book, you noticed that Wednesday was still on her writing hour, while Enid had left the room. You got up, grabbed your bag to throw a few personal effects and slipped out of your room. Girls and boys weren’t supposed to sneak into each other’s dormitories, but you knew how to go past the surveillance easily. Knocking on Xavier’s door, you waited for someone to answer. When he opened the door, Xavier had his usual lopsided grin.

“Hey”

“Hi there,” you smiled back, before entering the room, noticing the absence of his roommate, “Rowan’s not here?”

Immediately, Xavier’s eyes became colder and he seemed to tense.

“Nah. Don’t think he’ll be coming back tonight to be honest.”

You arched an eyebrow, while sitting cross-legged on Xavier’s bed, “Why?”

He licked his lips nervously, like he pondered whether or not he should tell you this. But after all, you were his oldest friend, and he trusted you with his life.

“He tried to kill Wednesday earlier.”

That made your eyes widen; not really the attempted murder part, more the fact than Rowan did it.

“Rowan?” you repeated. “As in, Rowan your roommate?”

He frowned, “You don’t seem very surprised that someone tried to kill Wednesday.”

You felt your chest tighten once again at his concerned tone. Like you wanted to start to cough again.

“She told me,” you explained, “though she doesn’t know who had tried to kill her.”

“Fuck,” he swore, passing a nervous hand through his hair, “I don’t know why he had done this.”

The way he looked so distressed made bile rise in your throat. You stopped the cough before it ever came out of your mouth.

“Look, we can’t know until Rowan’s back, okay?” you said calmly, trying to ease the tension, “Wednesday’s okay, I’m even pretty sure she’s honored that someone came this close to kill her on her first week here.”

That elicited a laugh from Xavier, and at this sound you felt lighter.

“Yeah, that’s probably right,” he chuckled before sitting down on the bed next to you. “I guess we’ll see where all of this goes, uh? Maybe it was all a misunderstanding.”

You hummed in agreement, “Besides, Wednesday knows how to defend herself, and I’m not going to let my roommate alone in the face of danger, no matter how much she pulls the cool detached girl behavior.”

He smiled at that. Despite the weird character of Wednesday, you didn’t wish her any harm. Should she be in danger, sure you’d help her.

Grabbing one book from your back, you gently swat it on Xavier’s shoulder.

“Don’t try to change the subject though mister,” you playfully reminded him, “I do believe you texted me to save your sorry artistic ass once again.”

He dodged your next attack, laughing as you tried to hit him again with your notebook.

“Yes ma’am” he smirked, grabbing his own notes.

The two of you started to work, leaving the subject of your new roommate behind. An hour into this comfortable studying session, where you helped Xavier for a botany assignment and he showed you some of his recent sketches, it felt like it had always been. You were comfortable around each other, everything seemed to come out effortlessly. That’s why you loved to spend time with Xavier so much.

You stretched your arms above your head, releasing all the tension that had built up due to your slouched position while studying.

“I’ll never understand how you always ace the arithmetic classes, Xav” you said with an amused smile.

“That might be my hard work,” he mused with a grin, letting himself fall on his back onto the mattress.

You snorted and threw a ball of paper on him, “You’re like the laziest student ever, Thorpe.”

He caught it effortlessly, “Must be my natural talent then,” he said before throwing it back at you, hitting you on the head.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that,” you grinned, jumping on his side.

He jumped at your sudden move but before he could protest you were already tickling him mercilessly. “Hey! This isn’t fair!” he wheezed in between laughs.

He tried to counter your attacks, jabbing your sides and the two of you ended up rolling on his bed, giggling like children tickling each other restlessly. At some point Xavier managed to flip you over and you squealed at the sudden turn of events. You started preparing for a witty come back but the words were caught in your throat at the sight of Xavier’s face merely inches from yours. Hovering above you, he got you pinned on his bed; your breaths, ragged and mixing together softly caressing each other’s cheeks. For the briefest moment, it seemed like you saw his eyes for the first time. Brown, warm and bottomless; they looked like home to you. They had golden highlights too, how come you had never noticed?

While you were gazing at Xavier’s face, you hadn’t noticed him kissing every inch of your face with the very same eyes you were lost in. Before you could stop yourself your gaze flickered to his lips briefly then to his eyes again, only to find his gaze already on yours.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hey,” you breathed back.

“Willing to recognize my undeniable charm now?” he asked huskily with his usual grin.

You huffed softly at that, “I thought you talked about natural talent.”

“Well there’s that too, thanks for reminding me Y/N” he casually grinned. His expression then softened, “I’m trying to reach your level, sweetheart.”

Your already short breath got caught in your throat. It wasn’t the first time you heard him using affectionate pet names, but you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks shade in soft pink. This time felt…different. Maybe because you were laying on Xavier’s bed, with half of his body pressed against yours, complimenting you.

Somehow, the weight on your chest felt like it had almost disappeared.

Your eyes wandered once again on his full pink lips without really realizing it.

“Xav?” you whispered, not wanting to speak louder, like you were afraid it would ruin the moment.

“Yeah?”

Suddenly, you felt shy. You had never felt embarrassed about talking about anything with Xavier. So why did it feel so strange now? Licking your lips nervously you averted your eyes, unsure of what to do.

“Do you think…do you think about us, sometimes?”

At his lack of response you sighed quietly and kept your gaze down. God you felt embarrassed now.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “this was a stupid question I shouldn’t have asked that.”

Noticing your discomfort, Xavier brought his hand to your face slowly.

“Hey,” he said, carefully brushing a strand of hair off your face, “hey it’s okay. No hiding between us, remember?”

You could only shrug slightly, unsure of what to say.

To be honest, you weren’t sure why you were asking this now. Of course, you had wondered if you and Xavier would someday be more than friends. It even seems that the thought had never really left, it was simply buried more or less deep in your mind. And somehow, it was resurfacing now.

“I have thought about it,” he confessed, “a lot, actually.” That made your heart flutter. Until he add, “But this…I can’t–”

A strong sound of chords, although muffled by the walls, made him stop. Without really realizing it, your head turned toward the window too. It sounded like someone was playing on a balcony?

This unexpected interruption seemed to break the strange yet intimate charm the two of you were caught in, and Xavier slowly pushed himself away from you, clearing his throat awkwardly. Yours on the other hand, felt tighter than ever. Still you got up from the bed, and just like Xavier, approached the window, curious about this melody resonating throughout Nevermore’s walls.

“It sounds like a cello,” mumbled Xavier, looking through the window to try to catch a glimpse of the mysterious player.

“Nobody has a cello in the school,” you started to think out loud as an image of your new roommate’s belongings flashed into your mind, “except…”

Your eyes flickered immediately to your room’s balcony, on the other side of the quad. Sitting under the night sky and deep in concentration, Wednesday Addams was playing cello like it was the last time she’d ever play. Passionate, dark, precise. An impressive presence that weightened down every other.

You didn’t know how long you had stayed in front of the window, mesmerized by the intensity of the music recital. When you got out of your reverie, your head snapped in Xavier’s direction. Really, you didn’t really know what to expect, it had been more a reflex than anything else. But finding him hovering over a sheet of paper, erratically sketching like a madman, wasn’t what you expected at all.

Sensing your burning gaze on his back Xavier lifted his head; at the betrayed look on your face, his eyes turned into pleading ones.

“I– I’m sorry I just–”

“No it’s me,” you cut him sharply in a small voice. Crossing the room to gather your belongings you hurriedly threw all of your stuff in your bag. Not daring looking up at Xavier; or else you weren’t sure you would be able to restrain your tears. “I overstepped, I should be going.”

“Y/N I–” Xavier pleaded.

“G’night Xavier,” you mumbled, storming out of the room and shutting the door behind you.

Eyes glued on the floor for the entire walk, you crossed the empty hallways in a hurry. At a turn, the gruesome feeling in your chest returned. Like a hot iron gripping on your lungs, a sharp pain started to overtake you. The harsh, tingling sensation clawed at your throat, acid plaguing your chest and lungs. As the first cough escaped your mouth, you leaned on the wall for support, hand covering your mouth. The horrid sensation of the never ending dry cough, shaking your whole body like a trembling leaf was crippling you. You weren’t even able to take another step, as the sensation of something crawling out of your chest through your throat was intensifying every passing second.

The coughs hardened, until at last your stomach managed to regurgitate something. Bending over as you felt you were beginning to throw up, your hand came in front of you out of reflex to grab whatever you were spitting. With an awful gurgling sound, you finally spat out something soft, covered with a sticky substance. More smaller bits escaped your mouth for a whole solid minute, your mouth still feeling soggy but the coughs gradually easing down anyway.

Bringing your trembling hands up, you opened them tentatively to see what had been stuck in your throat for so long. On your palm lay a white flower and scattered petals, covered with saliva and blood. Wiping the wet string dripping from your mouth with quivering fingers, you held them up in the moonlight. They were red and wet, covered in blood too.

Crumbling against the wall, you let yourself fall on the ground. For long minutes, you stared at the bloody flowers in your hand. Then, you bursted into tears.

“What the fuck,” you sobbed in disbelief.

You had no idea of what was going on; but this was far more concerning than you had originally thought.

[Part.2]

A/N: Next part is coming soon! Hope you enjoyed this fkjsrbkjbfr

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe angst #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

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urperfectcinnamonroll07 · 6 months

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Can I have a chishiya fic where he is obsessed with reader's tits?? ughh he makes me feel things ngl.

Cherries

requested?: yes pairing(s): shuntarō chishiya x afab!reader genre: smut warning(s): smut, nipple play summary: 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘴 word count: 553 (kind of a drabble, but it also has a little bit of a storyline if you squint) a/n: honestly, love him too anon, he's everything omds. trying to get through requests so i can write every other idea i have, remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah!

you would’ve never thought you would be in this position. stuck in the borderlands with med student shuntaro chishiya sucking and massaging your tits while he pounded relentlessly into you, making you cum all over his cock time after time.

he looked up at you, a lustful gaze in his eyes. chishiya had always had a thing for your tits. always staring at them when you were wearing that flimsy material for a bikini top that showed the right amount of cleavage all the time. a thing about you and chishiya that practically the whole beach knew was that he was yours and you were his.

you two were friends with benefits, it was mutual, but there was “no strings attached” but you had started to gather feeling for him. the thing you didn’t know, was that chishiya was also starting to slowly fall for you. but you both managed to keep it a secret, none of you wanted the other finding out, after all.

but now you were here, it was after a game and chishiya was stressed. you were also slightly drunk, so it was weird when you just randomly confessed your ever dying love for the blonde. not long after you were in his room and all of your clothes were off with him ruthlessly pounding into you.

with his left hand he was massaging your right breast and with his mouth he was sucking and licking your left. he had ripped orgasm after orgasm out of you, not once stopping. he flattened his tongue against your tit, making you cry out as you came around his cock once more.

chishiya then moved from your left tit to your right, closing his mouth around your hardened nipple, he came not long after.

“fuck, your tits are so perfect, wanna suck them forever sweets” he groaned out against your breast “fuck, just sucking on them can make me cum, wanna cum all over them, can i? please?” you say nothing but let out a breathy ‘fuck’ before you nod profusely.

he takes that as his sign to keep on pounding into you, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder so he could hit deeper inside of you, making your already tight pussy clench around him. he still sucked on your tits, moving between the two of them every so often. he removed his hand from your tits and instead grabbed your hips.

he slammed you down on him when he thrusted upwards. it didn’t take long for you to cum again like this, your pussy making a squelching sound as you released all over his cock, he came not long after, pulling out and spilling all over your tits.

you both panted as you came down from your highs, chishiya sucking on your tits still, before getting up and bringing you to the bathroom. he got a warm wet washcloth and cleaned your folds before moving to clean his cum off of your tits. he teased you with it, dragging the fabric over your tits, making them hard again.

he smirked to himself before cleaning them properly and bringing you back to bed, lying down on your tits again.

“love you shiya” you mumble out weakly.

“love you too, sweets” he says before drifting off to sleep, along with you.

#alice in borderland #chishiya smut #chishiya x reader #smut #chishiya shuntaro

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grave-z-boy · 1 year

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Right so I love your writing and just need more mx m cause fuck I'm tired of imaging dead me .

I'm a Trans man..I think ( female to male ??) So I was hoping for a fic somewhat like that . Arthur and reader meet when they're female but 2 years later or so they meet again and arthur doesnt recognize y/n (because they transitioned) I just want some fluff and acceptance of that . I know back then homosexuality was a big no no and being trans is unheard of so it'll be fun to see where you take it.

Arthur Morgan x Trans!Male!Reader

Summary: You’ve felt stuck and unhappy for years, so, in pursuit of your own happiness you leave everyone and everything you’ve even known behind. Including your currently out of state lover, Arthur Morgan.

Word count: 6,011

Warnings: reader is a bartender, reader steals, readers sister and mother are mentioned, implied past sex between Arthur and reader, drinking and alcoholism mentioned (not reader or Arthur), y/n and his guns, guns mentioned, shooting mentioned, abandonment, hurt comfort, reader being One Of The Guys™️, sleep deprived Arthur, Tilly being helpful, reader get misgendered and deadnamed a lot but it’s before they knew he was trans, reader cries really fucking hard at one point Arthur being sleep deprived, sleep deprive Arthur being really gay for Reader, not mentioned in the story but the reason Arthur is so tired is because about half way though his second trip to town his horse bucked him off for pushing her too hard and he had to walk the rest of the way, worlds longest warning list damn

Sept. 15, 18XX

My Dear Arthur Morgan

It’s been thirteen months since I saw you last. The time has passed slowly for me- sometimes it felt as though I was standing still for days at a time. Like everyone and everything around me was moving forward- but for me, and only me, time stood still. In the months since you’ve left it seems my joy, as well as a my love for my home town, has dwindled to nothing. Staying here, the way I am, it pains my heart. I know I said I would be here, that I would wait for you to return. But I need to change and the change that I need cannot be achieved here. The people here know me, they’ve known me my whole life, and no matter what I do I will always be that same little girl to them.

I’m heading up to a little town in Nevada, maybe I can start over there.

Always yours, D/n.

Arthur received your final letter months ago. In the time since he’s read it hundreds of times, mulling over every little detail. The crumbles in the paper, the unevenness of your writing, the all too familiar tear stains that permanently warped small circles on the page, the way your name ripped through the paper, as though you’d traced it dozens of times before sending it off.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand what happened, why after all this time of waiting, all this time of writing him dozens of love letters, why you decided to say goodbye, he understood change. Arthur has seen people change, he’s changed, and if it was change you needed he’d do it again. But you left. If he really wanted to, he could find you, ride day and night, ask everyone he saw if they’d seen the beautiful woman that he loved more than anything. But…

You didn’t want that. You didn’t want to be hunted down, you didn’t need to be convinced. You needed change, not a reason to stay the same. So he let you go and even when the following days were filled with the nothing but pain and confusion and the complete desolation your decision brought, he still let you go.

The gang knew he was hurting, he was withdrawn, went off on his own for a couple of days. They figured he went to find you, but when he returned, without you and in a severely worse state, they knew not to press him on it.

You weren’t much better.

This was your decision and you were going to live with it. You yearned for Arthur, every day and every night, it was different from waiting for him in your hometown, he was the one who’d left then, but you knew he’d come back to you one day. Now you were the one leaving, and you could never go back to him.

You needed to move on, you sold every piece of clothing you had to a local tailor, it was almost funny to see some of your nicer dresses displayed in the window the next morning, early on, your new wardrobe came from various drunk men. You’d be surprised just how much you could find in an alley next to a bar. After you had an outfit, a proper male outfit, you were able to assimilate.

You lived above a tavern. The owner was far too old and far too tired to run it anymore, and he wanted to live in his own house for the first time in decades, so he offered you the place for a little over a hundred bucks. You worked at the bar at night, while you handled various chores and other responsibilities during the day. The pay wasn’t great, but you had a permanent place to stay and spare food from the bar to eat, and it was more than enough.

You’d taken up a new name, y/n, you thought about it for a long time before you left. A good name, the name of a proud man with no connection to who you were before. No one ever questioned you. You were just a man to them. They teased you, in the earlier days, called you feminine, pointed out your hand, your cheeks, and your hips among other things, but in the end it was just teasing, they didn’t know why you were like that, and they didn’t question when you put in an effort to change or hide your more feminine aspects. Maybe they were just too drunk to care.

You loved this life, you were just the friendly bartender.

But even with this new life, you found yourself missing aspects of you’re old one.

Your old friends, your old family, your old lover. They wouldn’t take you back, not like this, they’d think something was wrong, they’d try to change you, try force you back into the box you clawed yourself out of.

But still you dreamed of them, your sisters cooking, the way she was effortlessly graceful even when she was teasing you, your friends, the girls you’ve know since you were in diapers, singing, making flower crowns, getting into trouble. Arthur…

You dreamed of Arthur the most. Your days and nights were filled with thoughts of him. You think back to your last night together, the way he held you so tightly, you swore you could still feel his hands there. The praises he muttered, the love he confessed through out the night, every move he made, the way he left and the hole that was left in your chest after.

You dreamed of him, like one day you’d wake up and he’d be beside you. And he tell you that he loved you, not d/n, not the girl from before, but you, y/n, as your truest self.

But just like yesterday, and the days before that, he wasn’t there when you opened your eyes.

The sun was just coming up. But the sliver of light that did shine through the window seemed to magically be angled at your eyes. Making the rest you so desperately wanted impossible.

You pushed yourself up with a groan, your elbow popping the moment you were upright, your eyes were just barely open, you scratched your chest and let out a long yawn.

Your room was still dark for the most part, but you were still able to pull on some pants and fasten a belt so you could head downstairs. The tavern was empty, you cleaned up good last night and you wouldn’t have to worry about really opening until later. Still, you unlocked the front door and flipped the wooden sign in the window to say open, the people here knew you weren’t really open to serve, you were just open to the chatty people that passed through in the morning, locals coming to say hi, or travelers in need of direction, others came to sit with their friends and get out of the violent Nevada sun. Either way, you’d be polite enough to them, but they weren’t welcome for a drink for another couple of hours.

Stepping into the backyard you picked the laundry off the line and into a basket. You heard the bell up on top of the front door ring a couple of times. As you got closer to the back door you could hear the faint chatter of two people inside, Doctor Mayer, one of three doctors in town, and Anita, a house wife. She was in here more often than her husband was, but you always figured that she just needed something to do while he worked considering you’ve only ever seen her drink a handful of times in the past year.

When you came through the back door she let out an excited yelp,

“Y/n!” She shouted, like she hadn’t seen you the night before.

“Mrs. Matthews.” You said with a respectful nod. “How’s you’re husband?”

She groaned, “paranoid.”

Setting the basket down on the bar, in between the upturned stools, you turned back to her.

“He used to be a farmer, farmers are always paranoid.”

“He was not a damn farmer, don’t let that man fool you, he was a farm hand, it’s different,”

Dr. Mayer piped in, his voice low and tired, though that just how he always sounded, “the bastard smells like one…”

“It’s getting warmer out there.” You responded, leaning against the bar.

“Doesn’t mean he has to walk around smelling like a damn animal!”

You laughed, turning back to Anita, “what does your husband do anyway?”

“He’s a banker, which is why he’s so damn paranoid in the first place.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well..” she stated, adjusting herself in her chair, “one of his colleague’s brother-in-law told his colleague that he saw a gang ‘a outlaws heading up this way, but here’s the kicker, Johnny, the colleague, is a notorious liar. Lies left and right like his life depends on it.”

“Johnny Flores?” You asked.

She smacked the table, “That’s the bastard!”

“Yeah, he comes in here every Wednesday like clockwork, telling the boys his stories. It’s a surprise the whole town hasn’t heard about this..”

“Well, it isn’t Wednesday yet, is it? It’ll make it’s way into you’re bar, don’t worry”

You laughed again, grabbing the basket off the table you said, “Alright, I’ll be back in a minute, got a few more thing to settle.”

You weren’t too worried about the rumors, there wasn’t much in the town anyways, no sheriff either so if they did come and make noise, it’d be a free for all and they’d leave with less than they came with. Everybody had a gun, hell- you had two, a shotgun the last owner had given you, and a pistol Arthur had given you a few weeks before he left, one was under the bar on a shelf, the other was under your bed, you’ve never really had a need for either, but if Johnny was being truthful for once in his life, which you doubted, you figured it was good to have them.

That night, when the bar did open, a few unfamiliar faces strode in, though none were to shady. A couple of working girls took to them quick and they were gone after being chatted up by for a bit. Outside of that, it was a normal night.

You closed late, shooing out the last drunk nearly two hours later than usual. Wiping down the tables, flipping the chairs and stools on them, washing the glasses, sweeping, mopping and making sure the front and back door was locked before heading upstairs. You scrubbed yourself down at your washstand. Of all things you missed from your old home, your bathtub was one of the bigger ones. Your mother had invested in it early on, and now you were saving to have one installed here too. What you wouldn’t do for a hot bath after a long day. You were almost there, another fifty dollars and you’d have all the money you needed. That’s were a good portion of your money went, you didn’t mind, after all you’ve sacrificed you deserve something nice.

——-

A couple of weeks later, Wednesday afternoon, Johnny Flores and a couple of his friend decided to take over the seats directly in front of the bar. Again, he told stories of bandits headed your way, but he was “serious” this time.

“I swear, I know what I saw, Dutch’s boys, just like the damn posters! I saw them coming from the east, clear as day.”

Before one of his friend could respond you asked, “and what the hell were you doing in the east, huh?”

“Well-“ he straightened himself out, “I was out with my lady friend-“

“The prostitute-“ his friend, Oscar, interrupted.

“-Not a prostitute, she's a-”

“-escort-” both Johnny and his three friends said together, they've heard that one before.

“Isnt that the same thing?” you asked.

“He doesn't think so!” Oscar said.

“They almost knocked our carriage over!” Johnny shouted, getting the conversation on track.

“Sure they did..” you said, drying the glass in your hand before setting it back down. “Bet they stuck you up too, only let you live cuz you're so pretty.”

“Go to hell, y/n.”

“I'll go where ever your lying, drunk ass ain't.”

“Im not lying, and I’m not drunk either, so get me another whiskey, asshole!”

“Hey now,” Daniel, who was also a regular, piped up, “careful how you talk to him, he might shoot ya’”

You set the glass down in front of him, he snatched it quickly, gulping it down.

“Or I might just piss in your whiskey.”

He choked hard, luckily the drink went down his throat instead of all over your counter, then you would have shot him. His face morphed to one of irritation, but his friend's laughter was infectious and he found himself laughing along with them.

The night ended with you carrying a passed out Johnny to the alley, you cleaned up, scrubbed yourself down, and went to bed just as you always did.

The next morning a delivery was made to the bar, food and alcohol, you kept your meats and some of your more expensive liquor in the ice box and things like bread and supplies were kept on the shelf. Food wasn't ordered commonly in the tavern, but there were those who ate here nearly every night because they had no skill for cooking and no one else to do it for them. You enjoyed those people, and you think they enjoyed you too, especially since the last owner would drive them out if they tried to come in for more than three days in a row. He thought that they were stealing food from other customers, but you didn't, You knew they were just hungry and needed to eat, and they couldn't be stealing because they always paid.

After that, your day was pretty normal- other than what you consider to be one the best things to happen to you in a long time- your bathtub, your beautiful porcelain bathtub with golden feet and faucet, was done. Fully installed and in perfect working order. You weren't going to pretend to understand how the man you paid did it, but he did. And finally, after what felt like years, you were able to take a hot bath.

It was weird, staring down at your distorted body as you soaked. Usually, when you scrubbed yourself down at the washstand all you could think of was how desperately you wanted this to be over. Your mind was clear, but that clarity only lasted so long though, as it did most nights, your mind wander to Arthur.

Saying you missed him was redundant, it was meaningless, it was stupid. You know, but you did. Letting out a long sigh, the last time you saw Arthur was like a dream, you spent an entire day together, you woke up together, ate together, bathed together, dressed together- everything you did, every little move you made reminded you of that day. And with Johnny spreading rumors about the Dutch’s gang, you heard his name more and more. You let yourself sink into the water, your eyes clenched shut as warm water covered your face. You stayed there longer that you should have, when you finally sat up, you were nearly gasping for air.

You got out few minutes later, you were tired, dressing yourself halfway before collapsing into bed.

You didn’t dream that night, your mind either too tired or too pained to show you your usual fantasies.

——-

Arthur swore he wouldn’t look for you, he swore it to you and to himself that he’d let you be free. But it seemed unavoidable now. Dutch had settled the gang in a large clearing in Nevada, the gang was mostly hidden by a small chain of mountains, and there was a streak of towns and settlements all within a couple dozen miles from each other.

There weren’t many cities in Nevada, it was dry and damn near impossible to farm out here if you didn’t know what you were doing, and if that wasn’t enough, the heat would be.

You were out there somewhere.

Dealing with the heat, with the drought, and with the shitty crops. And you still didn’t go back home. He’s been to your home. He's gone back dozens of times, you were never there, whatever you wanted to do, whatever changes you made, you succeded. He was happy for you, you were happy, God he hoped you were happy- he doesn't know what he'd do if he found out you weren't. If you were somewhere miserable and sulking, all this time, when you could have been with him.

He pushed those thoughts back- you were happy, you had to be.

When Arthur mentioned he was riding into the nearest town, he got a few odd looks. It wasn't a secret that you'd run off to Nevada, not even close. Most didn't say much, maybe a quick good luck, or a request for something from town. Some didn't say anything, but Dutch did. Dutch warned him, warned him about you and how some changes weren't good, and if Arthur did see you that he needed to be careful.

Arthur wasn't one to ignore advice, and he didn't ignore it, he thought about it as he road through the desert lands of Nevada, but whatever changes you made, he could handle it. He wasn't a child, he didn't need have his hand held. There wasn't even a guarantee that you'd been in this town, or the next one. So for all he knew he'd never have to face you're changes.

The town was bustling with life. The people went about their business. The town was…normal. Small, busy, and normal. He road in unbothered, no one here seemed to care enough to even look when the man when he trotted by.

Hitching his horse to a sturdy pole he set off to one of the small shops nearby, after picking up some extra oat cakes and apples for the horse, he tried to find the sheriff’s office, only to find that this town didn't have one after asking a mildly disheveled yet nicely dressed man for directions, no government either. The town was its own unit outside of the occasional trading.

“Danny Hikman used to be the law here, well, not really, but he kept people on the right track. Encouraged them to do right- and get guns, he used to run a bar a little down the way, gave it to his nephew or something-” the man said, laughing slightly.

“‘ bar any good?” he asked, only half listening to the man.

“The best, fresh food, cold whiskey- bartenders a good guy too, won't hesitate to throw your ass out though.”

“I’ll bet- which way’s that bar, again?”

———

You started serving earlier than usual today, mostly so you could close earlier without complaint. The familiar chime of the bell above the door called your attention for a less than a second, you recognized Johnny, then looked back down at the glasses you were cleaning.

“Changing your schedule on me, Johnny? I thought you were a Wednesday man?”

He let out a short laugh, sitting in the spot directly in front of you, “just showing a friend around.”

“You’re friends are all alcoholics, I doubt they need help finding a bar.”

“Hey now, I’ve got a new friend. Mr. Uhh-“

“Arthur.”

You felt like you’d just jumped out of your skin, the glass in your hand clattered against the floor, ever so sturdy. Landing thankful one piece. Staring at the man in front of you, standing just behind Johnny, Arthur Morgan, right there, looking just the way he did when he left, just the way you remember him.

He glanced at Johnny, then back at you- it felt like he looked right through you. Looking at you with none of the love or adoration from before. Because he loved d/n, not y/n. Y/n was just a bartender to him, an awful one who apparently couldn’t even hold a damn glass.

Your heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself, your chest was tight and you could feel your throat start to close as tears weld in your eyes. Quickly, you broke eye contact with Arthur, ducking down under the bar to grab the glass, using the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the forming tears in your eyes before standing up.

“Sorry boys,” you muttered, “you’re, uh, friend startled me is all.”

Taking off his hat and setting down on the counter, Arthur took a seat on one of the stools.

“Sorry, your friend here talked you up quite a bit, had to see for myself if what he said was true.”

You let out a laugh, forced and almost nervous, setting the glass down with the rest of the dirty glasses, you said, “Trust me, it’s true, what you looking for Mr. Arthur?”

“Just Arthur, and whiskey, thanks.”

You nodded to the man before heading to the storage room, you’d hate to admit it, but you wanted to run, straight passed the storage room and out the back door. But that would make Arthur think something was wrong, and yes, something was wrong, but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t recognize you, and that was okay, it was supposed to be okay, you left so you wouldn’t be recognized, you left to start over. But he’s out there, and you were hiding in the storage room so you wouldn’t have to face him. You gave yourself a moment, for your throat to release and for your heart to stop pounding and aching. Only the pounding stopped. You needed to work, you couldn’t let them know anything was wrong.

Grabbing a bit of higher quality whiskey out of the icebox, feeling the frosty glass sting your hand as you carried it out of the storage room. Without looking up at the man you grabbed one of the clean glasses and poured him about half a glass. You remember Arthur complaining about it once, only getting serviced the tiniest amount of alcohol, no matter the price. Capping the bottle you gave a short wordless nod before setting it under the counter. Arthur grabbed the glass, before he could speak you were on the other side of the bar, serving somebody else.

Johnny didn’t stay long, he had other things to do on a Thursday afternoon, but Arthur stayed, you poured him a couple more glasses before cutting him off, at least from your expensive whiskey.

“How much do I owe you?” He ask, his speech a bit slurred as he sat unsteadily in his seat.

“Nothing, I’ll put it on Johnny’s tab, come Wednesday he won’t notice it.”

“Thank you kindly-“

“Y/n-“

“Thank you, y/n.”

“You have a good night Mr. Morgan.”

You crawled into bed that night, still in your day clothes, feeling like your heart had been torn out of your chest. And you cried, you cried until the sun came up, until your body couldn't cry anymore and every sound you made was a rough heaving sob. And when you had no more energy left to sob, you stared at your open window, watching the sunrise, listening to the people.

You were supposed to open today, unlocking the door and flipping the sign, staring out the window, at the people, at Mrs. Matthews waiting across the street for you to open your doors.

You flipped the sign back, you stated at the word “OPEN” facing you, then at Mrs. Matthews's face fell as the word “CLOSED” faced her.

————

Sitting on his cot, journal on his lap, Arthur stared at the picture he drew. It wasn't perfect, considering he was half drunk when he drew it, but it was something. The bartender from last night. He was…something. A nervous something. Arthur felt bad for him when he dropped the glass, then he just…stared at him, long enough for Arthur to get a spark of familiarity when he saw his face. Arthur tried to get his attention as the night went on, ordering drinks, asking questions, trying to get the man to stay close, be he'd walk away the moment he'd answered or served him.

He wasn't like that with other patrons, he laughed, he joked- then he kicked everyone out.

He heard him say he was closing early, but let him stay until he finished his last drink. Arthur thought about the name he'd given. Y/n.

“I see you're drawing d/n again, did you catch her in town?”

Looking up he saw Tilly standing next to him with a kind smile on her face.

“No, it's not d/n, some bartender in town, he looks so familiar.”

Tilly hummed, sitting on the cot with Arthur and taking the book out of his lap. She flipped through the pages quickly before finding a drawing of d/n, with your final letter stuck right next to it.

“Needs a change, huh? Maybe she skipped town and became a bartender, you never know.”

“A bartender and a man?”

“You never know Arthur. Maybe that's why she left, couldn't make a change like that where people know you. They would've hunted her down.”

“Tilly..”

“Maybe you should talk to the bartender, if it's not her then it's not her, but if it is, are you really going to miss seeing her again because you won't take a chance?”

Handing the journal back to him she said, “Just think about it, at least.” Then she walked away.

————

You heard the slam of the front door behind you as you sat the freshly cleaned glasses on the rack. If you were going to sulk and lock yourself in the bar then you were going to clean while you did it.

“We’re closed..” you said, your tone not exactly customer friendly.

You had a list of things you needed to do, you've already mopped the floor, scrubbed the tables and walls, washed every glass, plate, and utensil, did your laundry, scrubbed your tub, cleaned your room-

“D/n..?”

You paused, then glanced over your shoulder. You knew it was him, you already knew, you knew his voice too well to ever mistake it. Taking a breath, you hands shaking and heart pounding, you turned around.

“Arthur, I-” you breathed out, but you didn't know what to say. “How did you-”

“Lucky guess..”

Taking slow steps towards the bar, you heard him sigh.

“Are you…okay?” he asked, unsure.

You nodded, “Yeah, yeah I'm okay.”

“We should talk-”

“Yes, we should-”

You stepped from behind the counter, still unsure as to what could happen next. Then, without warning, you were pulled into a tight hug, Arthurs's body practically enveloping yours. You stood there, holding him as tightly as you could until your arms started to burn from the strain.

You didn't know what to say, or how to explain what happened, the realization you went through while he was gone, why you left.

When you pulled away you still didn’t know what to say, you opened your mouth to talk but no words came out. You kept your face glued to the ground for a long moment.

“You look different, I didn’t recognize you yesterday..”

You pulled out one of the stools.

“I told you I needed change.”

He pulled another out beside you.

“I know, I just don’t know what I was expecting.”

“This must be so confusing.”

“It is, but I’m betting it was more confusing for you that it could be for anybody else.”

Leaning on the counter, you looked up at him.

“I guess so. In my home town I figured that they’d be a little more angry than confused so I left..” you stopped, taking a breath, “I didn’t want to leave you, Arthur.”

Arthur sat there silently, his eyes turned towards the counter.

You couldn’t help but stare, you haven’t seen him in so long, his eyebrows were slightly scrunched downward, his pretty blue eyes focused on nothing as his mind raced. His fingers tapped against the counter every few seconds. You tried not to let that anxious feeling in your chest build, but the longer he was silent, the harder it got to push down.

“You said you aren't happy anymore..”

You blinked.

“I wasn't.”

“How about now? Are you happy now?”

“I'm.. I have more good days than I did before, so…yeah, I'm happy.”

He stayed silent for another moment. You figured he was just trying to find his words.

Then, when he did speak,

“I still love you.”

You sighed, “I still love you, too, Arthur.”

Another long silence passed. It was odd, you've dreamed of seeing him again, all the damn time. And now that he's here you didn't know what to say. Your relationship, how ever strong it was before, was dying. Even though you loved him and he loved you.

Arthur was having similar thoughts, he didn't care how much you changed, he wanted you to be happy. That's all he wanted for you. But he wants to be with you, he doesn't care that your a man, it doesn't matter to him, he doesn't think it's ever mattered. He's never thought too hard about it. But now, with you sitting there looking the way you did. Looking so different, so muchlike yourself, so much more at peace even though you were being confronted, he thought, ‘yeah, I could be with a man.’

Before he could, you took a chance.

“How long you thinking of staying in town for, Arthur?”

———-

You laughed, he missed your laugh.

“You can't just go around taking people's clothes off!”

“I needed clothes and they were so drunk they wouldn't miss them!” you argued.

“How have you not been caught yet?”

“I bought new clothes!”

“Why couldn't you do that first?”

“I needed to avoid suspicion.”

“Avoid suspicious by stealing clothes..”

You laughed again.

You and Arthur had found your way upstairs, both of you sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He asked you how you ended up here, it was funny, explaining to Arthur, a known outlaw, the various ways you broke the law, and having him lecture you.

“I will not take this from an outlaw!”

“You're an outlaw too, now, Clothes Bandit.”

“Oh that's awful, why couldn't I get something good?”

“‘Good’ like what?”

“I don't know, you're better at naming things than I am.”

He looked over at you a small smile on his face.

“Really now, Mr. Y/n, how’d you come up with that anyways?”

“Well I found a baby naming book.”

He sat up, giving you a look.

“Are you serious?”

You looked at him for a second, a stren expression on your face, then slowly a smile broke out on your face.

“You're an ass.”

“You really think I got Y/n for a baby naming book?”

“You could have!”

“But I didn't-”

Eventually, after showing him your room and the various aspects of your new life that you adored (yes, the tub too), you headed back down to the bar, only to see Daniel, one of Johnny’s friends, behind the bar serving himself.

“Daniel, I'm going to kill you, how many drinks have you had?” you said, rushing over to him, snatching both the glass and bottle from his hand.

“One-” you gave him a look, he caved quickly with a sigh, “five.”

“Goddamnit.”

“‘M sorry, you are closed, your never closed!”

“I wouldn't be serving drinks this early anyways!”

He laughed, walking around to the other side of the bar, “I'm special though right? Won't get shot or banned or nothing?” he practically pleaded, but formed it like a question.

“No, you're not banned, but you still need to leave.”

He sighed, dragging himself out the door.

Sighing yourself, you turned to Arthur, “See what I have to deal with?”

“‘Seems like a handful.”

“Daniel is harmless, he's just an alcoholic.”

“Never met a harmless alcoholic.”

“He's harmless now, he doesn't want to risk almost getting shot again.”

Arthur laughed, sitting at the bar, just like had yesterday, “Who shot at him?”

You stared at him for a moment.

“You?”

“I gave him plenty of warning, see that hole in the wall that there—” you pointed to the very back wall of the tavern, between two tables was a loosely patched hole, “- warning shot, missed him by an inch.”

“Who the hell taught you how to shoot?”

“I taught myself, maybe I could teach you sometime.”

“Very funny, y/n, I wouldn't mind seeing you shoot sometime though.”

“There's a range in the next town, I could take you there sometime.”

The two of you talked until the sun had fully set and the town had gone quiet. The bar made you feel more open somehow, it always did. Arthur helped too, you guess. You missed him, you missed being like this, so normal with him. You were surprised his quickly things settled back in place, like neither of you had ever left. It was clear that you were different, but Arthur seemed to accept this change flawlessly. He never messed up, seemingly having ingrained every aspect of your new life into his mind.

Y/n, Mr.Y/n, Sir, he even called you handsome, you swear you nearly fell over when he did.

By midnight, you both were tired, and despite what he planned before, which was bringing you- if it was you, back to camp with him. But that plan never fell through, you ended up pulling him into the bathroom with you. You thought you'd be uncomfortable at first, but you figured if he was going to be back in your life you should get used to him seeing you naked again. But it wasn't, it was calm, comforting. You were thankful for your massive bath, the both of you fit well, you sat behind him, his hat tossed in on top of the heap of clothes you two had left, you ran your fingers through his hair, water from your hands running down his face. He hummed in contempt. He didn't speak much at first, simply enjoying you and your presence. It wasn't until the water had begun to cool and the cold air of the Nevada night started to seep in did he pressed himself closer to you, muttering something quietly.

It wasn't until you got out, long after the water cooled, we're you able to figure out what he was saying. You had some clothes you figured might fit Arthur, something you'd bought impulsively without actually checking to see if you could fit it.

“You have…nice arms-” he muttered.

You were pulling your pants up over your waist when he spoke, you turned to look at him, one hand holding your unbuttoned pants up, you asked, “Arthur, are you drunk?”

“No, no I'm just…real tired.”

“Didn't get much sleep?”

“I didn't sleep, I kept thinking of you.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

He groaned, “Tuesday, I was on watch Wednesday, I was pre occupied by your ass on Thursday, and now here we are.”

“Fucking Christ, go to sleep.”

“I want to look at you, I missed you-”

“I'll be here in the morning Arthur.”

He didn't respond for a long moment, you figured he dozed off finally, until you decided to switch shirts, shoving the one you had on into your drawer and pulling out another.

“You have a nice back too-”

“Good night, Arthur.”

Your night ended with you curling up around Arthur, your arms nearly wrapped completely around him. You didn't dream again tonight, your usual fantasies of seeing Arthur were deemed useless now and we're thrown out with the rest of today's mental trash.

#arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x male!reader #red dead redemption 2 x male reader #red dead redemption 2 x male!reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x male!reader #rdr2x male!reader #male!reader #male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #male y/n #x male y/n #arthur Morgan x male #✮ — z-boy

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yepmadness · 2 months

Text

Yeah so. I gave into the urges. I’ve never felt the need to write fanfic. Ever. But here I am I guess.

I wrote this at midnight soooo, who knows how this is. Just wanted to write John thoughts because he’s my guy—so have this short little piece that I hope other people can enjoy too :)

Fic under the cut: 1.8k words.

The memory of Arthur’s silence will remain more prettifying than his agony, but that doesn’t mean that his pain … his terror as the light and awareness left his eyes—their eyes—is what John was hoping to hear.

He doesn’t know what he was hoping for. Relief? A gasping thank you? Pride in saving him? Would it be foolish to wish that the talisman fixed everything? That he would just be okay? Perhaps it is. He thinks it is. He was never going to have that. It would be unreasonable to think he would get any of that, but any joy of him living, of John fixing this, was ripped away when Arthur opened his mouth. All John wanted was a sound. A single noise, a response, any response to prove the talisman worked. He got that. He should be happy that he got that.

But he isn’t.

And Arthur is silent again.

And the world is dark—but not as dark as it could be.

John does not know what to consider if Arthur didn’t end up in the dark world … when he died. That place was the last thing he wanted for Arthur, and yet, it was always treated as a last resort. Of a sort. Between them, spoken only aloud by Arthur, so long ago now. A place they would end up together in—if they failed. It was not a future he ever wanted, but it was a possibility, even if it was one he despised the thought of. But now he knows that if Arthur dies he does not follow, instead he is left here to deal with the repercussions. To play the marker for lifeless remains, having to have witnessed, and experienced death without a choice. What if there is no place meant for them? Past all of this. He can’t exactly bury Arthur himself, if it came to it, he wouldn’t let him stay dead after all. Graves are a place of permanency, one they do not deserve, because they can be forgotten. Especially here. But John would never forget. He would never abandon him like that.

He would find a way, like today. They are stuck in this together. They both have to make their own path through this, together.

Except his body is no longer a weighted grave for them both, a tomb he would never dare leave, it is breathing. Arthur is alive—and so they are both alive, whatever that may entail. He is tentatively okay. Arthur, is okay. As okay as he can be, as they both can be. What matters is that he is alive—what matters now is keeping him alive.

John has almost lost Arthur more than once, twice, more than three times, and he wasn’t always there to fix it but he has tried to be. He often was. Every moment where Arthur falls, where he becomes immobile and lost to John, he feels himself succumb to a fragility accustomed to human bodies. Accustom to loss and fear. It’s horribly quiet without him. Even so, he saves him, he saves them both—because Arthur trusts him, and he trusts Arthur. He loves Arthur, and he is going to tell him that. He has to tell him that. Even if they both know it, to an extent. This can’t happen again without John making sure he knows it.

But this is never going to happen again.

Because Arthur died this time, and he almost lost everything. John felt the cold stone visage that he left in his absence. There was nothing here without Arthur, more so than just the lack of connection to their body, but the emptiness was staggering. He was alone. Completely and wholly alone in a space meant for two.

He hadn't felt terror like that since Arthur slit his throat before the King—but this was worse. They’ve grown … so much—and John wasn’t there to see the aftermath of his actions back then. This, he was aware of, in every aching moment of uncertainty. This could have been prevented, couldn’t it? They didn't need to go after the talisman, but they did, and John didn’t see her—not until it was too late. It was his words that made her kill him—an appeal made to the wrong person. Arthur wouldn’t have died if made the right decisions. But he always seems to make the wrong ones, no matter how hard he tries, that he and Arthur have in common.

But Arthur is alive again, so why does it still feel like he is grieving?

Arthur wouldn’t have gotten hurt, wouldn’t have died, if John wasn’t here. But John wouldn’t be here, who he is now, without Arthur. Perhaps that would be more demoralizing if Arthur hasn’t so vehemently stated that he doesn’t want to be rid of John, that they are in this together, until they both get what they want … no matter what that may be. Perhaps that is just happiness, in the end, no matter what it looks like. From one harrowing experience to the next, until they may finally rest. Arthur wants him here, in spite of all the pain it causes, and will continue to cause. Because Arthur is his friend, and more than that, but he is his friend.

Arthur might even be … pleased with his actions. That he has found himself, both with him, and all that he has learned for himself. That he knows who he is, in truth, after everything.

Even if he knows who he is now, who he wants to be, who he will always be—he knows he will want Arthur there too. Arthur who has been there for all his mistakes, his achievements, their joy and sorrow. Arthur deserved to be here for this too, but he wasn’t, and maybe that was the push he needed. He used to defend so much of himself to Arthur, expectation after expectation, misstep after misstep. But Arthur also gave him hope, the sanctity of trust, showed him love and sacrifice, and remained alongside him even when that trust was broken. Even if some mistakes can’t be forgiven … They let them rest. Arthur lets it rest, so they can move on, so they can grow.

Is it so wrong to become … whole without him there to witness it? Or is that how it was always meant to be. To be entirely his own, must he first be alone?

He hopes not, it is a terribly bleak thought, besides it can’t be. Not in every single world, even if Kayne said he … doesn’t change much. There must be some place where there is more joy to be held in his ownership of self. A better circumstance that does not lace his pride in one of their darkest moments. In his choosing of hope. In his choosing of Arthur. One that doesn’t extend off of a devastating fear, off of death. He doesn’t know if he would wish to change this, he would have—if Arthur was truly gone—but he isn’t, so he will just have to see how this plays out.

He is going to share everything he said—everything he did, with Arthur. Because he deserves to be a part of it. Because they do this, all of this, together. Because he wouldn’t be here without him. Because together they are whole of two, just like he said, just like he will say.

It’s not as if he will ever fit into the messy expectations of what it means to be human, per say, but he doesn’t need to. All he needs is to perceive himself as what he wants to be—and Arthur’s perception helps to, even if he doesn’t always meet that. Humanity will be whatever he wants it to be. However he defines it to be. A neutral point, in it all. For he is not a piece to be slotted away, but a piece to be shelved along the masses, every individual part given a space of its own, and it is a space he deserves. A space he had long since earned.

A space they both deserve, to play their own key.

Because Arthur is alive—and so is he, in every sense of the word.

He’d panicked, when Arthur lost consciousness again, for a second he thought he had lost him once more. John had been so ready to reach for the talisman for a second time—for he wasn’t going to allow Arthur to leave, not yet, not ever. But he was breathing, albeit raggedly, but he was. John was going to keep his promises, he had to. He was going to take care of this, of him, and they were both going to be okay. Just like the times before this, and everytime that may come after, because Arthur isn’t going to die.

They’re going to get their happy ending, despite what she said, one where Arthur does not end up as a corpse.

An ending where they both know want they want, what they deserve, who they are.

Moving Arthur to the witch’s bed was difficult, to say the least, without exasperating the wound and the subpar stitching ... even if it has improved. John won’t allow it to get any worse—and Yorrick keeps telling him it’s survivable, or that he is more likely to survive anyway. Even so, John periodically checks to make sure Arthur is still breathing, that his heart is still beating.

Arthur is alive. He will stay alive.

He should stop worrying, Yorrick keeps spouting that he is arguably fine. He should stop.

But the reality is that he can’t, and he doubts will for a long while to come.

He is intimately aware of every minuscule movement Arthur makes, of every second of awareness he gains, and he coaxes him back to the present through all of it. A melody of promises, of reaffirming how he feels, telling Arthur everything over and over and over. It doesn’t matter if he is aware of what he says, if he hears him at all, John will repeat his words for as long as they are needed.

John never lets him arrive to the dread of waking up alone, speaking as soon as he stirs and recognition strike, each and every time. They are never going to be alone again, severed or separated, and John tells him that. Because they are whole together.

And eventually, when Arthur finds his speech, a gentle—hoarse voice long since worn by constant yelling born from the suffering of the waking. He repeats back everything John has been telling him through the suffering of uncertainty, of recovery and knowing and fear.

Arthur moves, ever so slightly, before John can protest—and he brushes his hand, John’s hand. It is a little thing, but it is such a stark constant to the stillness he had before. After the pain of it all, this is a relief, a reprieve. Arthur is alive and John can tell he’s weakly smiling, even if that is not something he can see, when he speaks up for the first time in hours.

John isn’t surprised by what he hears, he already knew, after all. They’ve both said it before. But John it is nice to hear regardless, because together, they are whole. A comfort to both him and Arthur both. He does not want to live, to experience life as it was shown to him, without him. He wouldn’t have gotten here without him. Together they are whole. Both their own wills, colliding, and depending on each other. Made by each other.

Arthur is alive.

Arthur is alive and he breaks the one sided silence by saying, “I love you too.”

Perhaps that, for now, is enough.

#malevolent #malevolent fic #they’re very qpr coded for me #though I know that is a very common consensus I guess #i just want them to be happy eventually no matter how long it takes #they deserve it I think #I love any interpretation of them I just think they should have some happiness #just a little #even if it’s complicated #they can’t be defined to me—not really #but they love each other #and that’s enough #a lot of his identity is attached to Arthur #and a life with Arthur is a happier one #it’s complicated #maybe I’ll make a meta post about it #about the whole…. being whole together #but I don’t think I need to #just wondering if my interpretation of that is different?#who knows—I sure don’t.#lowkey this is a John character analysis tbf #I adore him #malevolent podcast #john doe malevolent #I have a lot of thoughts about them and I tried to put that into this #but there is a lot I don’t know how to put into words #rotating him in my mind #my posts of madness #masked

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katsukota · 29 days

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Mean and Meaner

(Part one)

Katsuki Bakugou is notoriously vicious, and just down right cruel in most circumstances. The class of 1-A had just started to grow accustomed to him, however, a certain turn of events changes the balance of the hero course students.

Training Arc spoilers, most likely differs from canon since its been a fat fucking minute since ive watched / read that early into the series + My writing is a bit rusty so my b 😨

Part two coming soon ! ! Requests open as well 😈

Katsuki Bakugou was the epitome of anger, explosive behavior, even having a matching quirk. In the most blunt way possible, he was fucking mean.

Izuku, anyone close to him, and even anyone anywhere in a mile radius can testify for this fact.

If Katsuki is walking in the middle of the hallway, it's you who should move for him. If you somehow convince him to hang out or have a movie night, it's a given he's calling the shots and picking the movie. It doesn't matter whether you snap back, or are the embodiment of sweetness. He'll blast you into tomorrow at any verbal backlash, and kind words will be ignored if you're lucky.

Nevertheless, he was an integral part of UAs Hero Course. As loud, and brash as he was, he earned his way into the school, earning his spot at the very top of the entrance exams, and the sports festival. Despite how difficult it was starting out, and even though he'd never admit it, he'd made friends in 1-A, and stupidly enough, he thought, cared for his classmates.

That's probably how he got into this mess, is it not ? He trained vigorously, was absolutely naturally talented, bright as ever-- No logical explanation, even though he was there, being the victim of the crime, would make him understand how he ever got here. In a dingy, mildew ridden, room, tied and strapped to a chair. It was raggedy, and had an annoying scent of iron that wasn't even slowly, but definitely surely, driving him insane. This was nothing like the wealthier and more comforted parts of his or Dekus home. The change in atmosphere continued to unease him, despite how he'd stay firm in his angered stance.

Before he could let himself even acknowledge how uncomfortable it really all was, what he thought was going to be a second villain encounter, charged at him head on.

You, unwavering, glaring, and everything Katsuki deep down despised in himself, stomped up to him and pushed your finger into his unguarded chest.

"Hah?" He wasn't scared, not of a weakling like you. Youd just be another run of the mill villain, and despite how grim his chances were, no way in hell was he giving up. "Just who the fuck are you ?"

His confidence wavered for only heartbeat, when you just laughed right in his face.

How fucking rude.

"I could be asking you that. I thought the league captured people with potential. Not some dumb bitch who's still cuffed up and has his tail between his legs like a lost puppy stranded in the rain."

His jaw dropped a bit, but before he could even bite back, you just about ripped his throat out with tiger-like fangs.

"God. I was actually hoping I could have an escape buddy, not some hero wannabe. This is fucking embarrassing, im glad I never enrolled in those shitty, stuck up school. You're too busy learning how to wipe your ass to protect yourself when it comes down to it. Pa-the-tic."

He looked at you, shocked. For one of the only times in his life, Katsuki Bakugou was dumbfounded. He didnt even have the chance to attack before you basically clocked him. All of his insecurities and fears bubbling up.

Is this how Izuku felt ?

He was quick to snap out of it though, when he saw a familiar, snarky grin. Where he remembered it from, he was unsure.

"And who are you to be saying that ? You look about my age, so it's clear you're just a no brained drop out who had no other options but to be a fucking whore to some loser villain gang. You wouldn't stand a chance against the heroes."

There it was again, that grating, irritating laugh, that echoed throughout the damp room, and through each bone in his body. Hes not scared, is he ?

"God, you really ARE dumb." You genuinely laughed, usually finding amusement in how easy it was to tick people off, but this was just absurd. "You sure are jumpy, scared. Especially with conclusions. Your critical thinking skills are in desperate need of a first grade class, how'd you even graduate ?

He looked at you, growing more angry. If it weren't for the stupid binding, and the hope the heroes would find him before he had to take things into his own hands, he wouldve knocked the shit out of you yesterday.

"What do you mean, fuckface ? If you have something to say, just spit it out already. No one has time for your shit."

You scoffed. "Clearly the league does." Before he could accuse you of anything else, you pulled out a large cuffed hand locking device, in the metal, a name was carved in. "The league scouted me first, obviously thought I was stronger. More worthy than you." You stuck your tongue out, teasing him with salt in his wound. "Of course I don't have time for that bullshit. Both heroes and villains are way out of their fucking minds. They look like little kids tripping over themselves to play pretend." You looked him dead in his ruby red eyes, "You all need to grow up."

He was beyond pissed at this point, who the fuck did you think you were ? Just who were you ? Was that name yours ? No way you had a fucking custom made handcuff. Was it due to your strength ? How long have you been here ? What have you even been doing to get found by the League ? Who are you ?

Before he realized it, his boiling anger turned into an itching curiosity.

But over his dead fucking body would that be clear.

"Great, so you're a dumbass and delusional. What makes you think getting kidnapped is a compliment ? Did they take you from the fucking psych ward ? For everyone's sake you should be put back in."

You laughed, again. The way his words barely even effected you irritated him, the way youd easily bite back with something arguably even meaner, you irritated the fuck out of him.

"Then what is it, ready to accept the fact you're just that weak then ? If it's not a compliment, what is it ? A show of how gullible you "Heroes" are ? Nice fucking try."

The argument stopped there, but for the next few days, the bickering between you rarely ceases.

Occasionally, a league member will come in to shut you up, and re cuff you, scolding you for 'escaping.'

You, not even waiting for the villain to exit, but as soon as they turn your back to you, would unlock them with ease.

"If you can get out so easily, why dont you just fucking leave ? For someone who pretends to be so smart and strong, you really have a lack of self preservation."

"Hah, rich coming from you ! What are all those muscles for ? Can't break out of some chains ? Bet you're just a fatass pretending to be strong."

"HEY ! Fuckin watch whatcha say. I could get out quicker than you, kill every lowlife here, " He paused, looking you in the eyes as intimidatingly as he could, "Including you, and escape with time on my hands."

You laughed and punched his shoulder, slowly but surely getting closer and more annoying throughout the days. He hated to admit it, but your punches weren't light. They had a kick to them. It was a little relieving, knowing it wasn't just him and a dead weight.

"Okay, keep dreaming. And you say I'm the delusional one. If it weren't for some big shot hero school, you'd be applying for residential hospital services. Maybe we would've met there."

"Dont get fuckin sappy, the heroes are gonna be here soon, and ill be back to my life and forget you ever existed."

"God I fucking hope so."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #mha hcs #bakugou hcs #katsukota #mean and meaner #mean x meaner

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shiggysimp69 · 1 year

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Craving You

Omg I'm writing, again! And it's 3k words this time, which is crazy. Turns out writing without planning is a blessing and a curse because I forgot the plot I thought of at 5am and had to remake it up but it also saves me from over thinking so I write faster. Yay, yay, yay!

Tw: Dubcon, Smut (Tomura has tentacles), Sleep paralysis, Reader has mild body image issues, Mentions binge eating, Mentions reader's bad dad

Plus size/chubby reader is being harassed by monster Tomura.

——————————————————————

A long sigh escaped your lips as you clicked "submit" on your newest assignment. You had been up for hours trying to get it done; your eye bags becoming more and more noticeable everyday. It wasn't like you cared. Your body had always been labeled as undesirable. People would rather look at women with soft, glowing skin with absolutely no imperfections. It did hurt sometimes though, because even girls who had noticeable imperfections still ended up with great partners. You secretly wished that was you.

You looked over at the clock by your bed, 2:22am. It was way past your bedtime. You sighed again before getting up from your desk. Your body creaked reminding you that you could use some exercise. But of course that thought was quickly dismissed, maybe if you had more time. Or rather, more energy.

You sunk into your cheap mattress as your thoughts wandered. What were you gonna eat tomorrow? Would you be able to get enough sleep to work and go to school? You weren't so sure. Without noticing, you dozed off. Drifting into a long slumber.

Moonlight beamed in through your window, hitting your face. It was so bright you thought it was the sun. You opened your eyes and realized, you were no longer in your room. Everything was different, even the placement of your window. It was never by your bed for this very reason. You didn't want the sun in your face. Panic stirred deep inside of you. You tried to sit up but you couldn't move. You tried to speak but nothing came out. You were stuck. Sweat gathered on your face and your mouth ran dry. You were scared and in a panic yet, everything around you was calm. As if it was just a normal night, except for the fact that you were possibly kidnapped in your sleep. That was unsettling. It was like the universe deemed this as "okay," as "just another day" and yet here you were. Clearly not having "just another day."

The moonlight had lit up the room but then suddenly, it went dark. You looked over and there was something blocking the window. No, someone was blocking the window. Your heart started to beat out of your chest. Someone was there and you couldn't move. Your breath hitched in your throat as they leaned into your face. Pearly white hair glowed in the moonlight capturing your gaze. It was long and snaked over their shoulders and face. They just stood there, watching you. What did they want? Did they bring you here? Were they going to hurt you? You had so many questions swarming around in your head like a jar of bees, just waiting to be let out. To be set free. But they never were.

The stranger standing over you started heaving. Their voice sounded strained and raspy. You didn't know what they were getting so worked up about until you felt something slimy touch your foot. It slowly wiggled along the bottom before sliding up your leg. Your heart started pounding as it made its way into your shorts and then, your panties. You could feel it rub along your folds, grazing your clit each time. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying to ignore the feeling between your legs.

"So pretty…"

You didn't wanna acknowledge them.

"I wonder how you'll react if I go in."

You wanted this to all go away.

"Hey, why won't you look at me?"

You wanted to die.

"Look at me."

You woke up in a cold sweat, chest heaving, eyes watering. You couldn't get yourself to calm down. You ripped the covers off and rushed out of bed. No slimy tentacles. You turned around. No window. You laughed, you couldn't help it. The relief was too strong for your body. It was a dream. A fucking dream. You put your head in your hands as your body slowly relaxed. You were so tired you felt like you would collapse. A sudden ringing in your ears brought you back to reality. It was your alarm. You sighed, then went to turn it off. You wondered if a nightmare would count as an excused absence as you headed to the bathroom. Probably not.

The vending machine clunked as your drink was pushed to the bottom. You pulled it out and opened it with a pop. You were taking a break between classes to clear your head. The only thing you could think about all day was the dream you had last night. At the time, you wanted to die. You were absolutely certain that death would be better than what you were experiencing. Had you ever felt like that before? Even in your darkest moment; did you feel as though death was the only way out? You couldn't tell. Soft buzzing interrupted your thoughts. You took a sip of your drink before pulling your phone out of your pocket.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon dear. How are you feeling?"

It was your grandma. You liked to hear from her every now and again. However, she wasn't content with that, opting to call you everyday. You didn't mind most of the time but she had a habit of calling when you were busy. Which was annoying.

"Hey ma. I'm okay, just getting something to drink."

"I hope it's not one of those sugary drinks. Your father has been complaining about your weight more and more recently."

You rolled your eyes.

"Personally, I think he's overreacting. He should know it's hard not to eat a lot when it tastes so good." She whispered with a chuckle. A smile crossed your face. Your father had always complained about your weight. It was like he cared about nothing else in life. You could be bleeding out and he'd say it's because you're overweight. That if you were healthier, this wouldn't be a problem. Your grandma was the exact opposite though. She cared but not nearly as much. And she was the one you confided in when you started to binge eat.

"I'm glad at least someone gets it."

"Oh, will you come and visit me during your spring break? I'll save a little extra money and bake your favorite cake. Don't worry, I won't tell your father."

You could imagine her placing a boney finger over her mouth. Your grandma was the definition of sweet. She was one of those grandparents that'd spoil their grandchildren. Feed them, bathe them, hell she'd give up her own home for you. She never argued or made a fuss. It worried you sometimes. You hoped that in her old age she wasn't secretly being mistreated and not saying anything. That's why you promised you'd never put her in a retirement home. The possibility of it weighing on your mind like a bus.

"Okay ma. I'll try."

"Thank goodness. I'm glad I have such a kind grandchild. My own son can barely take me to my appointments."

She clicked her teeth.

"Okay dear. I won't keep you. Study hard and don't come back until you graduate!"

"So, miss the cake?"

She laughed.

"Of course, stop by for the cake!"

You both started laughing then. You didn't know what you'd do without her. Her optimism was exactly what you needed on days like this.

"I'll talk to you later, ma."

"Alright. Love you."

"Love you."

The call ended with a click and you were alone again. You placed your phone back in your pocket then looked up at the sky, thinking.

"He's worried about my weight, huh… Well, maybe I wouldn't be so big if that wasn't the only thing he worried about."

You took a sip of your drink then turned on your heels. Maybe you'd get something to eat too. Soft ringing could be heard from your phone again. You sighed, your grandma did this sometimes. Call for one thing, then call back for another. You pulled your phone out and answered.

"Hello?"

There was nothing.

"Hellooo? Ma, I know it's you."

Still nothing. You pulled the phone away from your ear and checked the screen. "Ma." She was definitely the one who called.

"Ma, this isn't funny-"

"Beautiful…"

Your hand clenched around your phone. It was the same raspy voice from your dream.

"Can almost feel you from here."

They chuckled.

"Can you feel me?"

Something wet touched your ear and you threw your phone. You could hear them laughing on the other side. You felt sick to your stomach. The sound of static covered their laughter as you started to hear your grandma's voice.

"Dearie, are you there!?"

"M-Ma?"

The laughing stopped and so did the static. Your breath was caught in your throat as you reached down to pick up your now cracked phone.

"H… Hello?"

"Thank goodness! I thought something had happened to you."

Technically something did happen to you. But how could you tell her that the same person from your dream somehow contacted you using her phone number? You'd sound crazy.

"No. No, I'm fine. What's the matter?"

"Are you sure? You do know you can talk to me?"

You gulped.

"Yeah. I know." You replied, your voice shaking.

"I'm fine. Really."

Your grandma paused for a minute.

"Okay. Whenever you feel like talking about it, I'm here."

"Mhm."

A weak smile grazed your lips. You were acting as if she was there. Smiling so that she'd think everything was fine. Or was it so you'd think that?

Turns out, you were right. Your grandma needed help with something small and that was all she called for. When you hung up for the second time, you stared at your phone. You should've been thinking about all the new cracks on your screen. How you were gonna get them fixed. Or if you needed a new one entirely. But the only thing you could think about was, how did they touch you? How in the world did they reach through your phone and touch you? Is that even humanly possible? Or did you just imagine it all? No. You clearly felt it. You not only felt it but heard it. You had heard that same exact gravelly voice from before. You weren't crazy. But you sure as hell felt like it.

You emailed your professor explaining that you wouldn't be showing up today because of an illness. You told your boss the same thing. They both let it slide. "You were thankful" would've been an understatement. It's true that you weren't physically sick but you were definitely mentally sick. You just wanted to go home and forget all about today. But you knew it wouldn't be that easy.

As you made your way to your apartment, you spotted a familiar face. It was Ash. The last person you wanted to see right now. He was your coworker and you shamelessly and very obviously had a crush on him. But after that defiling dream you had, it was hard to look at him. Mainly because you wanted him to touch you like that, not some weird tentacle.

"A-Ash?"

He turned to face you then smiled. It made your heart flutter.

"For someone who's sick you seem to be gettin' around just fine."

Your breath hitched as you remembered the reason why you called off in the first place. He quickly noticed your discomfort.

"Hey, I was only joking. What happened? Lady cramps or somethin'?"

He walked up to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. He did that often. Ash was always so predictable; you loved that about him.

"I… I can't tell you." You replied, looking down at your feet. His face hardened.

"You can't tell me or you don't wanna tell me?"

"I can't."

Ash's grip tightened on your shoulder.

"It was your dad wasn't it? I'll kill him if he did anything-"

"No! It wasn't him."

You knew telling him might not have been the best idea. Ash had major anger issues. And he probably wouldn't take this lightly. You looked back up at him and forced a smile.

"Just forget I said anything. I don't want to bother you."

He didn't like that at all. His brows furrowing in frustration. You wanted to tell him but you were worried. If you told him, would he believe you? Would he think you're crazy? Would this ruin your chances of dating him? But maybe you could get some actual peace of mind from telling him. Maybe, he could even help. You didn't know what to choose.

"Let's go inside."

You looked at him, confused.

"Maybe if you're relaxed you'll tell me." Ash said, grabbing your hand and leading you to your door. You didn't protest, unlocking it and walking inside. It would be better to have this conversation indoors anyway. If you were even gonna have it, that is.

Ash took a seat on your couch and you went to change into something more comfortable. When you sat down next to him, things got awkward. You didn't wanna talk about what happened anymore and just wanted to relax but Ash clearly wasn't having it.

"So. Do you want something to drink?"

"Do you wanna tell me what's going on?"

You bit your lip.

"I want you to be there for me. I just had a rough day and I don't wanna talk about it. I just- I want you to be my friend right now. Not my bodyguard."

He was quiet for some time. You couldn't tell what he was thinking but after a while he seemed to calm down.

"Alight'."

"Thank you, Ash."

You two sat in silence for a minute before he spoke.

"You looked nice today."

Your face flushed. You forgot that Ash never really sees you outside of your work clothes.

"Th-Thank you."

The awkward tension returned immediately afterward. The only difference being the wetness forming between your legs.

"You look nice too…" You said, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

"What's gotcha so nervous?"

The hair on your neck stood up at that question. How could you answer that?

"Nothing! It's just been a while since I've had friends over."

"Mhm."

He wasn't buying it. Suddenly, he leaned in closer to you.

"Or, is there something you're not tellin' me?"

You let out a shaky breath. You couldn't handle how close he was to you. The smell of cinders filled your senses. It was ironic that he smelled like ashes to match his name. You wondered if he did that on purpose. Ash looked down at your plush thighs. You were clearly rubbing your legs together. He chuckled. You didn't notice at first but it felt like you were being watched. Not by Ash but by something else. The feeling was so strong it stopped you in your tracks.

"What's wrong?"

"H-Huh? It's nothing."

Ash didn't question it, instead closing his eyes expectantly. You leaned in but the feeling didn't go away. It only got worse. It was like daggers were being pushed into your skin. You couldn't take it anymore and pulled away.

"I'm sorry."

Ash didn't seem disappointed, he didn't seem to react at all actually. You looked down and fumbled with your shirt again.

"It's alight'."

It was silent again. But this time it was like the tension had reached out and grabbed you by the throat.

"Umm. Maybe we could do something different?"

He didn't respond. You looked up and he was gone.

"A-Ash?"

You didn't hear him get up. Where did he go?

"Naughty girl…"

Your blood ran cold. It was them, that same voice. Something wet touched your toes and you yelped then pulled away. They didn't stop though, the tentacles wrapping around your ankles and snaking up your legs.

"What the hell!?"

You could hear them click their tongue in disapproval. Your back was pressed against the couch and they draped their arms over your shoulders. You tensed up under their touch.

"Don't worry. I won't hurt him." They whispered in your ear.

"Yet."

You felt tears form in the corners of your eyes. Two more tentacles wrapped around your wrists pinning them together. The ones around your legs did the same.

"I'm just curious as to what you think you're doing just giving your body to other people?"

Another tentacle wiggled into your shorts and rubbed your clothed pussy.

"Look at you. All worked up over him."

They paused.

"How disgusting."

The tentacle ripped your panties to shreds and started rubbing up and down along your folds. You tried to pull away but you just kept hitting the back of your couch.

"P-Please! Please don't!"

They moved from behind you to stand in front of your face. Your brain couldn't comprehend what they were. It was a man. But something was off about him that you couldn't explain. Maybe it was his long locks of matted white hair or his thin yet muscular appearance? No, it was definitely the uncanny feeling his face gave you. With the whites of his eyes completely black and scars and wrinkles all over. Crimson eyes pierced your soul as he stared down at you.

"Please don't what? Don't touch what's mine? I don't think you quite understand what's going on here."

He grabbed you by your chin and leaned into your face. You could feel his breath fan across your features.

"How should I put this? I own you. So I don't like when people touch what I own. And you wanna know what I also don't like?"

You whimpered in response, pulling away.

"I don't like when you reject me. When you would rather let that little boy who doesn't even care about you have his way with you."

Your mind was reeling. What was he talking about? How could this man you didn't even know like you? Not only like you but assume that Ash, your best friend, didn't care about you. What did he know? What even was he?

"I-I don't understand."

Tears streamed down your face as thousands of thoughts and questions overwhelmed you. Suddenly, something rough pressed against your lips and you realized he kissed you. It was tender at first but he quickly dominated you and stuck his tongue down your throat. You almost choked on it. It was thick and too long for an average tongue. He started fucking you with it. The feeling was unimaginable and you, enjoyed it? It was embarrassing to admit and awful to think about but halfway through, you started rubbing your legs together. And he seemed to notice because he sped up. Thoroughly fucking you out. When he pulled away you felt empty and cold. Without much thought, you whined at his absence and he smiled in response.

"Do you understand now?"

He licked a long stroke up the side of your face.

"I'm the only one who can please you."

The tentacle working your pussy seemed to have gotten bored and started rubbing circles around your clit instead. Soft moans escaped your lips with each movement.

"B-But how do you even like someone like me!?"

The man paused for a bit. He seemed surprised by your question, which made sense because you also didn't know where that came from. But all of a sudden emotions were just spilling out of you.

"My own father th-thinks I'm hideous. Ash was one of my only friends. I-I loved him because he didn't care about what I looked like. And now he's gone."

More tears fell from your eyes as you admitted this out loud.

"You were in my dreams, my phone, a-and for what? All that for a fat girl that nobody even thinks of dating!"

Your stomach churned as the feeling of pleasure and misery mixed together like you had consumed something rotten.

You could feel his eyes on you, judging you. Of course he was, just like your father.

"What's wrong with you being fat?"

Your eyes widened at his question.

"Wha-"

You were cut off by his sudden touch. He grabbed your waist and squished your love handles, playing with them.

"You're so soft and squishy."

His hands slid up to your chest as he groped there too.

"I mean, look at me. I'm the exact opposite of you. Isn't that exciting?"

He pinched you and you whimpered.

"I'm rough and slim and you're buttery and thick. My hands just sink into you."

He let out a sigh.

"It's exhilarating."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Nobody had ever told you that before. Your grandma was always okay with your weight but you didn't realize until now that being okay with you is different than liking you. Was Ash also just "okay" with you? Something welded up inside of you at that realization. You wanted to be praised more. You wanted to be loved more than anything. Loved by him.

"Besides, you're more than just your looks, right?"

You smiled. Your grandma used to tell you that but most of the time people just wanna hear they're pretty every once in a while. But from him, it felt nice. Your arousal had been lost in a sea of different feelings and emotions, now seemingly canceling each other out. Everything felt calmer now.

"Umm, what's your name?"

He pressed his face against your chest.

"Tomura."

"Tomura. That's a pretty name."

He froze for a bit. Even his tentacles loosened around you. He spoke but his words were muffled and low.

"What?" You asked and he lifted his head.

"Doesn't matter."

The tentacle that now rested against your pussy started moving again.

"Was that your way of coming around? Because I'm not done with you yet."

His long tongue snaked out from between his lips. It was a deep indigo color that mirrored the tentacles. He was so enticing.

"Will you… Be nice to me?"

Tomura smiled. There was something sinister underneath but it still captivated you.

"The nicest."

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