#think I'm going to let him simmer in jealousy for- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slytherinslut0 · 7 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Thirteen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Angst, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Emotional Manipulation, Begging, ThighRiding, Masturbation.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

The moment you stepped into Mattheo's private dorm, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within you. The room, drenched in shadows and dimly lit by a few strategically placed candles, seemed to echo his enigmatic personality. Deep emerald and silver tapestries adorned the walls, and the air was heavy with the scent of sandalwood, mingled with the faint aroma of whiskey, creating a heady atmosphere that hung like a thick fog.

Your anger simmered just below the surface as you practically shoved Mattheo off you, his arrogant figure slumping onto the edge of the opulent bed, running a battered hand through his messy hair as he stared at you. The room's opulence felt suffocating, practically a mirrored image of the turmoil roaring within you. Your eyes roamed the space, catching glimpses of Mattheo's life--scattered parchment filled with scribbled notes, half-empty potion vials, and a tangle of dark robes strewn carelessly on a chair.

You couldn't ignore the mounting frustration, the way his careless demeanor clashed with the chaos he had unleashed in your life.

"This," you seethed, running your hands through your hair as you fought to keep your voice steady, "this has to stop, all of this."

Mattheo met your gaze, his expression unreadable. The room seemed to shrink around you, suffocating you between its walls. Your anger crackled like electricity in the charged air, the weight of the night's events pressing on your chest like a crushing burden. You knew you should leave, escape the suffocating atmosphere of his room, but an inexplicable force held you in place, rooted to the spot. The battle within you raged on, torn between the allure of his dangerous world and the need to protect your own sanity.

"Here we go again," Mattheo mumbled, his voice carrying a tinge of exhaustion, collapsing back on his green duvet. "Give it to me, Raven. Get it all out."

"Can you please not be insufferable for five fucking minutes?" Your words sliced through the charged air, your frustration escalating with his casual dismissal of your anger. "Do you even understand what just happened? Your already suspicious brother just found me walking you back to your dorm on a Saturday fucking night while you pretended to be blackout..."

You took a determined step forward, your anger palpable, radiating off you like heat waves. "Oh, but wait, you wouldn't know that he was suspicious, because when I tried to tell you about it, you basically told me to shut the fuck up, among other things..." you let your words hang, heavy and loaded, hoping they would pierce through his indifference. "Your ignorance is going to ruin my life, Mattheo. I don't think you realize it...or maybe you do, and you just don't care."

"My brother doesn't know fuck all." Mattheo grumbled, his frustration evident as he brought both palms to his face, rubbing his eyes wearily. "And even if he did, what's he going to do? He has no proof."

You rolled your eyes, exasperation boiling within you. "He could still kick me out of the guild...could tarnish my reputation with Dumbledore...the possibilities are fucking endless, Mattheo. Didn't you see the way he was looking at me? Did you not hear what he said?"

"Yeah, I saw the way he was looking at you alright," he said, irritation lacing his words. "Fucking pri-"

"Enough, Mattheo," you spat, your voice cutting through the air as you stepped closer to him. "Stop acting like you own me, like I'm yours to protect, control, or possess. It's time to face the facts. This is becoming too much. We've both admitted that we can't stop thinking about each other...how can we continue this after that?"

"Same way we always have, Raven," Mattheo said, sitting up to meet your eyes, leaning back on his palms. "We have this conversation every week. One of us says we can't do this anymore, but then the cycle continues...you know you can't resist this..."

"Gods, Mattheo...even on my tiptoes I wouldn't be able to reach your fucking ego." You hissed, stepping closer again, your skin pricking with frustration. "And I love how you say that like I've ever had a choice...like you haven't already embedded yourself in my fucking soul..."

Mattheo's lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent, his eyes searching yours for answers. The air between you crackled with tension, heavy with unspoken emotions. His usual confidence wavered, and for the first time, he seemed at a loss for words.

"I was fine with this until you took it too far, until you started making things complicated...the Tom thing has me sick..." you continued, your voice softening despite the anger that still lingered within you. "We're trapped in this vicious circle, Mattheo. Every time I try to pull away, you pull me back in, or vice versa...we're both tangled in this mess we've created, and I don't know how to break free..."

His expression remained unreadable, a mixture of frustration and helplessness flickering in his eyes. It was as if the reality of your words had finally caught up with him, forcing him to confront the depth of your entanglement. A heavy silence settled between you, Mattheo's gaze locked onto yours, his facade of indifference crumbling in the face of your honesty. He swallowed hard, his throat working visibly, but no words escaped his lips.

"Why?" you whispered, the weight of your words hanging in the tense space between you, crackling with unspoken emotion. You took a single step closer, your eyes searching his for a glimmer of understanding. "Why can't you admit that this needs to stop? That this can't continue?"

Mattheo blinked, his gaze flickering over your face, his lips parted, and his voice, tinged with uncertainty, left his throat in a hoarse whisper. "I...I don't know."

"You don't know?" you hissed, frustration bubbling within you. "You're willing to ruin my fucking life over an I don't know? Do you seriously hate me that much?"

As though a switch had been flipped, Mattheo stood, closing the distance between your bodies in a movement so forceful that you stumbled backward. His large palm found your arm, steadying you in place in front of him. His eyes, darker than the midnight sky, bored into you, filled with emotions you couldn't decipher.

"I don't hate you, Raven," he said, his voice firm, the intensity of his gaze paralyzing you.

Your heart stalled, your body near collapsing under the weight of his words. "You don't--"

"I never hated you," he repeated, his tone harsher this time, his grip on your arm tightening. "I couldn't fucking hate you even if I tried, and believe me, I have tried."

You were left speechless, entirely at a loss for words. The revelation shook you to your core. "You...but..."

"You make me fucking crazy, you make me feel like I'm always on the verge of losing control...and I don't lose control, Raven...not like this..." he growled, his voice a low, husky timbre that sent shivers down your spine.

Anger radiated off him, tangible and wild, as if it could set the room ablaze, surrounding your body with ease.

"You're a fucking mystery...everyone sees you as the school's brilliant little good girl, buried in books and academics...but underneath all that, you're so much more..." his free hand found your other arm, pulling you closer. "You're everything...you're honest, remarkably witty, and fuck, you have the sharpest snark that could keep any bloody asshat on their fucking toes..."

The intensity of his gaze softened for a fleeting moment, revealing a hint of vulnerability beneath the rage.

"You said I don't know half of the woman you are, but I do...I know all too fucking well, and part of me wished I didn't..." his voice was almost a whisper now, your heart hammering against your sternum like a frantic caged bird. "And that's only because you make it impossible to hate you."

"You're drunk..." your breath hitched, caught in the raw honesty of his words. The air seemed charged with tension, heavy with unspoken desires and regrets. "You don't mean any of this..."

Mattheo's jaw clenched, the tension in the room escalating with each passing moment. His grip on you tightened, the pressure sending a shiver down your spine. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, his internal turmoil mirrored in his intense gaze. It felt like his words were crashing against the walls of your mind, struggling to find a place to settle, leaving you in a state of emotional disarray. He averted his eyes, as if seeking refuge from the intensity of the moment, his silence speaking volumes, his thoughts a storm brewing behind his gaze.

"Raven...I..." his voice escaped him like a fragile whisper, hanging in the charged air between you. "I don't hate you...I hate Berkshire for fucking touching you...I hate my brother for trying to fucking get with you...I even hate Zabini because I overheard him telling Malfoy that he'd have your virginity in a fucking day if he tried..."

His words hung heavy in the room, a raw confession that left you speechless. Mattheo's eyes, usually steely and confident, now held a vulnerability you had never seen before. The truth of his emotions enveloped the space between you, suffocating yet strangely liberating. You found your voice, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

"I don't want you to hate anyone...you shouldn't hate anyone over a girl you can never fucking be with..." you said, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation, the reality of your situation hanging heavy in the air. "Don't you see the problems here..."

Mattheo's throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes clouded with an emotion he refused to acknowledge. Slowly, he released his grip on you, his fingers trailing away reluctantly as he retreated towards the worn-out couch in the corner. With a flick of his wand, he cast a spell that enveloped the room, muffling any sound and concealing the scent of the illicit substances he was about to indulge in.

Sinking into the couch, he seemed to meld into the shadows, the dim light casting eerie shadows across his face. His hands moved with practiced ease, rolling a blunt with expert precision. The room filled with the acrid aroma of marijuana as he took a long, deliberate drag, the smoke swirling around him like a protective veil, momentarily shrouding his vulnerability.

"You're right," he said, exhaling slowly, the smoke curling around him like a shield. "I see the problems, Raven. I see them crystal fucking clear."

Your heart pounded forcefully, its rhythm echoing the turmoil within you. Mattheo's ease with the weed fascinated and disturbed you simultaneously. He inhaled the smoke effortlessly, hardly flinching at its burn, filling the room with a scent that made your head spin and your body loosen, momentarily dulling the ache that was roaring through your limbs. Your throat felt drier than cotton, aching with the need for moisture, as you released a long, shuddering sigh. You blinked, unable to tear your eyes away from him, taking a hesitant step closer.

"Why do you do that?" Your voice was a fragile whisper, laden with genuine curiosity. "Drink, smoke...it's like you're never sober."

Mattheo's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, a guard descending over his features as he took another drag from the blunt. The smoke swirled around him like a protective shield, veiling his true sentiments.

"It's numbing, Raven," he said, his voice a low rasp, smoke curling around his words as he spoke. "Quiets the chaos for a little while." He paused, his eyes locking onto yours, a raw honesty flickering in their depths. "And it’s just a temporary fix...then I'm back to reality, back to wanting things I can't have."

Your pulse quickened; Gods, he was scarily vulnerable tonight. You'd never seen this side of him, and it left you utterly bewildered. Every word he uttered tugged at the strings of your empathy, threatening to unravel your carefully crafted resolve. You knew you had to put an end to this, had to sever the ties that bound you, but his vulnerability was like a persuasive melody, tempting you to stay, to comfort him, to succumb once more to the magnetic pull of his pretty words.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you huffed, forcing a small, half smile. "Those pesky demons, huh..."

Mattheo's laughter rippled through the room, punctuated by the tendrils of smoke that swirled around him like spectral dancers.

"Yeah," he said, the bitterness in his voice cutting through the air, his tone dropping to a near-missable whisper. "Who would have known that the worst one would be disguised as a fuckin' sweet little angel..."

For the hundredth time in twenty minutes, you felt like your lungs had seized function, the air in the room growing heavy. The smoke from the blunt hung in the air, a haze of confusion and desire, intertwining with your senses. Your fingers trembled, desperate for the feeling of being buried inside his hair, craving the intimacy that only Mattheo could provide.

Unable to find the right words, you let your feet carry you closer to him, drawn like a moth to a flame. His eyes met yours, the intensity in the room building with each step, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air like a storm on the horizon. As you stopped roughly an arms length away from where he was seated, the room seemed to pulse with raw, unspoken desire, the tension between you reaching a breaking point, yet neither of you dared to move further. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you in a suspended moment, where everything seemed possible and yet infinitely complicated.

"Come here, Raven..." he murmured, putting the blunt out on the tray next to the couch. "Please."

The moment he'd uttered that word, the moment it had left his lips, your defiance crumbled, leaving your sanity in tatters. With timid steps, you approached him, and he drew you onto his lap. Your thighs straddled him, his battered hands finding firm a hold on your hips, the grip so tight it felt like it could crush bones. The intensity of his touch ignited flames on your flesh, just like it has done endless times before.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still, your surroundings fading into insignificance. His touch became a lifeline, grounding you in the tumultuous sea of emotions. His lips barely moved as he uttered the words, each syllable laced with a heaviness that echoed the weight of your shared desires.

"One more night," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against the charged air. "Then that's it."

A reluctant agreement hung on your lips, the weight of reality pressing down on your shoulders like an unbearable burden. The ache of impending separation settled in your chest, and yet, you couldn't deny the magnetic pull that kept drawing you back into his arms, no matter the cost.

"One more night," you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if acknowledging the fleeting nature of your shared moments would make them more tangible, more real. "Then we're done."

A soft hand glided along your side, its roughened patches snagging slightly on the fibers of your cardigan. He traced the contours with a careful touch, his gaze drifting down to your chest, tracing the hidden curves beneath your attire. With a subtle pull at the hem, he met your eyes once more.

"Take this off..." he whispered, the desperation clear in his tone. "Take it all off."

Not needing a second prompt, your trembling fingers delicately worked on the buttons, skillfully releasing each one, your eyes never wavering from his intense gaze. His hands, possessing a gentle yet electrifying touch, traced a sensuous journey up your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Every movement felt like a carefully orchestrated dance, a silent agreement between you two.

The sweater cascaded to the floor, a soft thud underscoring the charged atmosphere, before your hands moved to your blouse, the air thick with anticipation and desire. As soon as it was undone, Mattheo helped you shimmy it off and tossed it onto the growing pile on the floor. You shivered at the sudden cold air on your bare chest but the warmth from his body quickly enveloped you, heart stalling as he leaned into you, reaching behind your back to expertly undo your bra. After a moment, it too fell to the ground.

"Fuck..." he purred, darkened obsidian eyes fixed on your chest. "Look at you..."

His hand moved to your neck, his thumb tracing a path down your collarbone, before sliding over to one of your breasts. As he twisted and pinched your nipple, your head fell back with a moan, your body arching towards him, evoking a deep growl from his chest. Your hands moved to the hem of your skirt, ready to peel it off your body when he halted you, pulling your hands up to rest on his shoulders.

"That can stay on..." he murmured, voice hoarse with desire. "My sexy girl in her short little uniform skirt."

He leaned in to capture one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin and sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You moaned, sinking deeper into his lap as pleasure overtook you, shuddering as you felt the outline of his erection pressing against your needy centre.

"Take off your panties," he commanded gruffly, his hand moving to slip his fingers beneath the waistband of your skirt. "I want to feel you..."

You eagerly complied, shimmying out of your panties and tossing them aside. A moment of hesitation washed over you, a wave of shyness and vulnerability making you feel exposed. Your gaze faltered, tracing a path from his lips to his chest, a nervous lump forming in your throat. Despite the anxiety, your fingers found their resolve and moved to the buttons on his shirt, meeting his eyes once more as you began to slowly undo them.

"I want to feel you, too, Matty..." you murmured, your voice horse as he met your eyes. "Please..."

Without wasting a second more of time, Mattheo manoeuvred himself out of his shirt, tossing it to the pile on the floor before leaning back, allowing your eyes to roam his now bare chest. Your lungs stalled, your cunt clenching with need as your gaze trailed from his thick shoulders, adorned with a tapestry of scars, cuts, and bruises--down to his defined, sculpted abs.

Each mark seemed to carry a weighty narrative, a testament to his resilience and strength. Your eyes traced the lines and contours, your thoughts weaving a web of admiration and empathy. Mattheo's abs were sculpted with precision, each muscle defined and rippling beneath his skin. They formed a chiseled landscape, emphasizing his strength and dedication to physical fitness. The play of light and shadows in the room accentuated the contours, creating a captivating pattern that drew the eye. His abdomen, toned and firm, brought an unspeakable heat between your thighs.

Mattheo's gaze raked over your naked body, lips parted in exasperation, releasing a long breath before he shifted closer only a little bit, his eyes focused on your hips.

"Do you ever touch yourself?" he asked, his voice a husky whisper, slipping his hand toward your heat.

Your lungs stalled, taken aback by the question, but when his eyes met yours, you nodded, feeling a flush of embarrassment spread over your face.

"And do you think of me when you do it?" he continued, his thumb circling your clit and sending jolts of pleasure through you.

"Yes," you gasped, your hips moving involuntarily against his hand. "I do..."

Mattheo's eyes were intense, locked onto yours as he stimulated your body, jaw tensing as you ground against his crotch, fingers digging into the flesh on his shoulders as though it could anchor you to reality.

"Yeah?" He leaned in further, nibbling on your earlobe, slowing his pace on your clit, leaving you squirming against him. "You think of my hands? Touching you like this?..."

Your breath caught in your throat at his bold question, but there was no denying the raw desire coursing through your veins. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, Mattheo..." you gasped as he sunk his teeth into your earlobe now, groaning as your fingers dug into his skin. "Your hands...your mouth...all of it..."

A wicked grin curved on his lips as he leaned back, his eyes locked with yours. "Show me," he murmured. "I want you to touch yourself for me...show me what you like...show me the effect I fucking have on you..."

Without giving you a chance to respond, Mattheo's strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer before he shifted you over so that you were straddling only one of his thick thighs, covered still by the fabric of his black trousers. You gasped as a jolt of arousal shot through you, and he leaned in close, hands finding purchase on your hips.

"Ride my thigh," he said roughly, his eyes dark with desire. "Show me how you'll take care of yourself since I won't be able to anymore..."

Your heart slammed your sternum, an unadulterated lust scorching your skin melding with an inexplicable hurt in your chest. Masking your pain, you pulled bottom lip between your teeth, slowly beginning to roll your hips against his thigh, gasping as you felt his muscles flex beneath you.

"Yeah, just like that, Raven..." Mattheo growled, aiding your hips in moving, gripping them tightly with his strong hands and pressing you down firmly against him. "Fuck, you're so wet...that's all for me, isn't it?"

He watched you intently, his gaze focused on every move you made, and as you rubbed yourself against his leg, his eyes turning darker with desire.

"Yes, Matty..." you moaned, breath torn with overwhelming pleasure. "All-fuck-all for you..."

His abs flexed as you moved against him, rippling beneath his skin with each thrust. You could feel the heat radiating from his body and smell the scent of his musk, making you wild with need for him. Your fingers moved to your clit, rubbing fast circles around it as you felt the pleasure rolling through you. You whimpered softly, the heat building into a slow burn as the sensations grew more intense. You spread your legs wider, pressing down on Mattheo's thigh with increasing pressure as you moved faster.

Mattheo watched in rapt attention, his gaze fixed on your fingers as they played with your clit. His own body was tense with desire, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, singlehandedly spurring you on.As you continued to grind against his thigh, you could feel the pleasure building to an almost unbearable crescendo. Every movement, every touch of your fingers, every flex of Mattheo's muscles was driving you toward the edge of ecstasy.

"Fucking hell, Raven..." he groaned through barred teeth. His gaze was fixed on you, intense and hungry, like a predator stalking its prey. "You're making me so fucking hard..."

His body was a wonderland beneath you: hard and smooth, with rippling abs and strong thighs that tensed and relaxed as you worked yourself against him.

"Shit..." you mewled, spurred on by his words, his eyes, his hands, everything about him. "You wish I was doing this on your cock, don't you, Matty..."

The sensations were overwhelming: the friction of your slickness against his leg, the feel of his hands on your hips, the sound of your breathing growing ragged and uneven as you drew closer to orgasm. You pressed down harder, panting with need as you felt the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Mattheo's eyes never left you, drinking in every detail of your movements, savouring the sight of your flushed skin, your lips parted in ecstasy, and the way your body quivered with desire.

"Fuck, yes, baby..." his pupils dilated with a mix of satisfaction and hunger, feeding off your pleasure as though it were his own. "I would fuck you so fucking good...I'd make you cum on my cock so many times you'd lose count..."

"Oh...shit..." His abs flexed noticeably with each grind of your hips, the defined muscles contorting beneath his smooth, pale skin. You could feel the power and strength beneath your fingertips as you reached out to touch his sculpted abdomen, tracing the lines and feeling the firmness beneath your touch. "I wish you fucking would..."

The sensation of your fingers sliding against your clit sent electric sparks of pleasure coursing through your entire body. The strokes became faster, more urgent, driving you closer to the edge. Every nerve ending was alight with desire, amplifying every sensation, every breathless moan that escaped your lips.

"Don't fucking say that right now, Raven..." his hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you against him with even more force. "I'm barely fucking holding on...one more word like that and I'd flip you over so fucking fast..."

Your eyes rolled, your lungs sputtering, his words filling your veins with magma. "Fuck, Mattheo..."

As he watched you, he began to grind his own groin against your thigh, adding to the sensations that were already pushing you toward orgasm.

"God you're so fucking hot," he murmured, his voice low and breathless. "I'll be thinking about this every time I jerk off...fuck, you're just the dirtiest little thing Raven..."

You could feel the muscles beneath your skin tensing, ready to explode with pleasure. Every touch from Mattheo was like fire on your skin, every sound he made was like fuel to your already raging inferno. You could hear his breath quickening as well, matching the rapid pace of your own.

His grip on your hips tightened, his voice tight as he fought through a groan. "You're close aren't you, princess?"

"Yes," you moaned, head falling back, fingers increasing their pace on your clit. "I'm so close, Matty..."

"Fuck," his breathing was ragged as he ground his groin against your thigh. "Beg for me, bitch...beg to cum all over my thigh like the good little slut I know are."

The words sent a thrill through your body, stoking the fire that was already burning within you. You met his gaze with wide, pleading eyes, your orgasm on the very edge of rattling through you.

"Please, Matty..." you whispered, the desperation clear in your tone. "Please let me cum...please let me cum for you..."

"Mm." Mattheo's fingers dug into your skin as he ground his groin against your thigh, his movements growing more urgent as he sensed your climax building. "That's it, let go for me baby..."

Your whole body tensed as you felt your orgasm approaching, like a wave rising inside you. Mattheo's leg was slick with your arousal, and the thought of covering him completely sent you over the edge. You cried out, your voice raw with pleasure, as the first tidal wave of your orgasm hit you like a fucking train. Your whole body shook as you rode out the waves of pleasure, your hips bucking against Mattheo's leg. He held you close the entire time, his hands gripping you tightly as you convulsed in ecstasy.

Your breath came in short pants as you slowly came back to yourself, your head resting against his chest. Mattheo let you catch your breath for a few moments, his own breathing still ragged as he held you close. Finally, he leaned back to look into your eyes, his hand cupping your cheek.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, admiration clear in his voice. "Absolutely fucking filthy...but beautiful...so beautiful..."

Your heart swelled with affection for him, and you leaned in to kiss him without even really thinking twice about it, his lips were hot and insistent against yours, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and dip with hungry fingers. You could feel the fire starting to build within you again, the memory of his touch sending shivers down your spine, his insistent erection pressing against your thigh, your fingers crawling down his chest before softly grazing over it.

"Let me take care of you now," you whispered, your words a gentle caress against his lips, acutely aware of the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch. "Last chance, Matty..."

"No." His response was unwavering, his grip firm yet tender as he pulled you closer, repositioning both of you so you lay lengthwise on the couch. His body enveloped yours, offering a comforting embrace, while his fingers traced a soothing path, brushing your hair away from your face. "You've done more than enough for me."

Your mind reeled with disbelief, completely taken aback by the intimacy of the moment. Your body tensed involuntarily as you found yourself pressed against the warmth of his chest, small beads of sweat glistening off his skin. Inhaling sharply, you caught a scent that mingled with his natural aroma, a hint of weed still lingering in the air. As you exhaled, a sense of surrender washed over you, your eyelids growing heavy with drowsiness as you eventually drifted off without even realizing it.

—————-

Here’s chapter fourteen->

878 notes · View notes

jaidens · 11 months

Text

Only Bought This Dress (So You Could Take It Off)

pairing [s] : miguel o’hara x reader

a/n : guys i really don't know.. except i want him..so

Whenever Miguel invited you to the Spider-Ball, you had no idea what to wear to be completely and totally honest. Your designer was confused whenever you showed her a picture of Miguel's suit and told her to work her magic. And your designer did such.

The colors of blue and red were prominent and it had a collection of dark-orangey red to compliment his webs. It was completely perfect and what you were thinking of without even explaining it. It was a soft silk fabric with lace covered around with strings of pearls.

You had found a matching lingerie set that would have surely made Miguel lose his mind. When he picked you up in front of your apartment you saw how when you walked down the steps in your long, stiletto red bottom heels and that dress he was anxiously moving in his seat and holding only small talk with you.

The limo stopped at a humongous, absolutely gorgeous building the event was being held at. Spider-Men and Women from all over were dressed to the Tens. The driver opened your door and held his hand out for you to grab. You thanked him graciously as you tangled your arm with Miguel's as he straightened out his suit and he looked down at you. “You look absolutely gorgeous tonight. I love this dress.” His hand touches your hip, rubbing across the delicate fabric. You smile up at him, tracing across his features and the moonlight that colors his face with beautiful carvings.

He helps you up the stairs, letting you use him as a guide to getting up with such tall heels and concrete steps aren't the best mix. His hand stays on your lower back, holding you closer to him when more and more people start to show up. When you walk into the beautiful ballroom, the white marble floors are covered with people and you look up at the expressive paintings that reside on the ceiling with admiration.

“Look at that ceiling. My goodness, it's absolutely gorgeous." Miguel looks up at it, and you get a sight of his neck, as it stretches “It’s pretty amazing." Miguel leaves to speak with another caterer of the party and you go talk to sweet Mary-Jane. Her bright red hair strikes you as she turns around quickly and drops her mouth open.

“Aren’t you just gorgeous? Oh my wow... I love this dress!” Mary-Jane compliments you while running her hand down your arm. “Look at you! I'm obsessed with those earrings." You and MJ hold small talk before Peter walks up behind her and pulls her away to the drink and food tables.

You find a conversation with Peter. You ask him about why he decided to come to the event. “It’s for charity, love. I'll always go to these types of functions if it's about charity.” You turn your head and see Miguel staring at you and Peter, and you're in for the game. You put your hand on his shoulder and you start laughing when he makes a joke about robbing banks.

But as the night reached its climax, a shadow was cast over the euphoria. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced toward the entrance, meeting the gaze of a familiar face. There he stood, his eyes narrowed with a simmering mix of anger and hurt. It was him—the man I had left behind, Miguel consumed by jealousy.

You continue such actions, just being more calm and touchy. You really only saw Peter as a brother and nothing more. Even after stating that multiple times, Miguel still got worried about him. The live concert band showed up and you got giddy and grabbed Peter's hand and asked him to dance. You were casually dancing with Peter until the switch partners part of the song began and someone grabbed your hand and pushed you close.

“Such a slut aren't you? We're going home after this dance.” Miguel is angry and you can tell. His words are cut off and you see his eyes slowly darken with lust and jealousy. You stare down and rest your head on his chest. “Acting all innocent now too.” You really weren't trying to act innocent. You were worried about beginning to do it because you knew how Miguel would act.

As we made our way through the crowd, I cast one last glance over my shoulder, yearning for the stranger who had stirred something within me. But all I found were empty eyes, longing for freedom that now seemed like a distant dream.

The sleek, midnight-black car cut through the city streets like a predator on the prowl. Inside, the air crackled with a mix of desire and jealousy, swirling around Miguel and me, creating an intoxicating tension. The dimly lit cabin was suffused with a primal energy that mirrored the storm brewing between us.

Miguel's hands gripped the steering wheel with an intensity that betrayed the seething jealousy consuming him. His jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but I could feel his eyes flickering with a fiery mix of possessiveness and resentment.

Earlier that evening, we had attended a glamorous social event, where attention naturally gravitated toward me. Miguel had watched as I conversed and laughed with other men, his strong facade cracking with each flirtatious exchange. The allure of his jealousy fueled my desire, and now we found ourselves alone, confined within the intimate space of his car.

The engine's growl mirrored the tension pulsating between us, as Miguel's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. The silence was heavy, pregnant with unspoken words and simmering emotions, as we hurtled through the city streets with dangerous haste.

Unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, I ventured, my voice a gentle tremor, "Miguel, what's wrong?"

His gaze pierced through me, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "You know damn well what's wrong," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of accusation.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the air grow thick with his possessive aura. Miguel's simmering jealousy took on a life of its own, threatening to consume us both. I could sense the hunger in his touch, the burning desire to claim what he believed was rightfully his.

With a sudden swerve, the car veered into an empty parking lot, its tires screeching against the pavement. We came to an abrupt stop, the stillness amplifying the intensity of our emotions. Miguel turned to me, his dark eyes staring into mine, his breath shallow and uneven.

"What were you doing back there?" he demanded, his voice low and charged with a mix of anger and longing. "Flirting with Peter, teasing him with your charm."

A flicker of guilt danced across my features, mingling with the thrill of his possessive rage. "Miguel, it was harmless. Just a bit of fun."

His hand shot out, capturing my chin in a firm grip, his touch simultaneously tender and controlling. "Fun? Do you think I find pleasure in watching Peter vie for your attention?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper, laced with a possessiveness that sent a jolt of desire coursing through me. "You're mine, and I won't stand for it."

In that charged moment, the confines of the car became an arena for our desires and frustrations. The boundaries blurred as Miguel's lips descended upon mine, claiming me with a ferocity that matched the fiery jealousy burning within him. The car's interior became a sanctuary for our entangled bodies, as we surrendered to the intoxicating dance of lust and possessiveness, each touch igniting a passionate blaze that threatened to consume us whole.

In the passenger seat, you, a tantalizing and spirited woman, brace yourself for what you sense is about to unfold. The air is thick with tension as you exit the car, your heart pounding in anticipation.

Miguel storms around the vehicle, his movements exuding authority, and yanks open your door. Without a word, he seizes your wrist and pulls you out, his grip firm yet electric with desire. He gracefully opens the door to the large house and he starts angrily dragging you to the bedroom that you shared together. He flips the lights off and presses a button. The LED lights that sat above turned a dark red. His tan skin is even more beautiful and tantalizing than it was in the sunlight.

He pulls his tie loose and he throws you onto the cleanly made bed. You bend your elbows to catch your fall. You put your knees up and close your thighs together, giving a sort of pleasure that was becoming single-handedly harder to hold back from Miguel. He begins to kiss your neck, sending a tingling sensation through your body. His hands move to your waist, feeling the curves of your body before he presses his body against yours. You close your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure that Miguel brings.

His lips travel down to your collarbone, creating a trail of butterflies that spread throughout your body. You can feel the heat of his body against yours and your heart racing. His hands move to your back as he leans in closer, sending sparks through your soul. He looks into your eyes and your lips meet in an electric kiss. You're lost in the moment, feeling alive and full of passion. You never want it to end. You're stuck in this dream before you remember what got you into this mess. He pulls away angrily and rips the perfectly made dress off your body. You stand there, feeling exposed and embarrassed. "Flirting with Peter wasn't a good idea, was it? Or would you rather him fuck you? Your heart raced as he said those words. You felt ashamed. You knew you had to face the consequences of your actions and you were not looking forward to it. He pulls off his tailored suit and you have a full look at his strong chest.

Miguel crawls back onto the bed and he bites your neck. You moan out and grab at his back, your manicured nails scratching red marks on them. "Please.. touch me." You're completely embarrassed that you're begging for him after getting yourself stuck in this situation. He smiles, a wicked glint in his eye as he presses himself against you. His hands roam your body as he kisses your neck, his breath hot on your skin. You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you as you surrender to his touch. His hand runs down your body, tracing over the delicate lace that you were adorned in. Miguel's hand travels just under the waistband of the panties, teasing you further. "You like the taste of your own medicine? I bet you do."

His fingers skim the lace and travel further until they reach your core. He teases and tantalizes you until you can't take it anymore and you cry out in pleasure. Miguel smiles, satisfied with the power he holds over you. "Such a slutty baby. Bet you'll take anything anyone gives you?" You blush and shake your head, unable to find the words to respond. He grins and presses his lips against yours, letting you know he doesn't need your answer. Instead, he just wants to show you how much pleasure he can give you. You feel his fingers rub your clit in figure-eights. You're rubbing your hips against his hands. You're so close before you feel it; he rips his hands away and lays his fingers against your lips.

You accept his fingers into your mouth and suck them off your pleasure. You moan as he moves his fingers in and out of your mouth, savoring the taste of your arousal. His hands return to your clit and you're soon overcome with pleasure, arching your back as you reach your peak. He flips you over and pushes your head down into the soft pillows and pulls your ass up. You're staring at the mirror at his gorgeous body as he pulls his pants down and throws them on the floor.

You can feel his hand rub against your ass before you feel it, a harsh smack against it. You cry out and hear him speak, "I want you to count how many times I spank your ass. If you do it correctly, I'll treat you." You take a deep breath and start counting, determined to do as he asked. As the spanks continue, you feel a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. You grit your teeth and keep counting until he stops. You feel one last rub in a circle over the burning marks. "You did well, baby." He flips you back around and your head it sat between your pillows and he grabs a pillow next to your head.

You twist your body around to be on your back. You're staring into his dark, beautiful eyes. Miguel takes the pillow and sticks it under your ass. You're on display for him. Your legs spread wide to give him room to relax. His strong arms wrap around your thighs and you feel his breath on your core. He looks up at you with a smirk and then explores you with his mouth. His tongue and lips dance around your sensitive areas.

His lips move faster and faster, sending shockwaves through your body that cause you to arch your back and thrust your hips into his face. His tongue is like a warm, gentle wave, caressing you and making you feel more alive than you ever have before. You can feel your muscles tense up as you get closer and closer to the edge, and when you finally reach it you let out a loud, intense moan that echoes through the room.

"So good for me." He groans out as he comes back up from your core and your slick is on his chin and lips, shimmering in the light. Miguel sits up and you notice how tense his body is. He's hard, his tip is dark purple had gotten so worked up from eating you out and hearing your pleasurable moans that echoed throughout the room. You sit up and your hand travels down his abs and to his cock, stroking it. He leans back against the bed; his hands holding him up from falling, and you press your lips against his, tasting yourself and him. You can feel his heartbeat racing as you kiss him passionately. Your hand strokes him as he humps into your hand. "For how dominant you had been earlier... this is different."

Miguel looks up at you. His eyes have tears as you continue to stroke him. You can sense the vulnerability in Miguel as he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears. You can feel the emotion radiating off of him as his heart beats rapidly in response to your touch. He is letting you in, allowing you to see a side to him that he usually keeps hidden. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close. You whisper comforting words to him, assuring him that it's ok to let it all out. He relaxes in your embrace, feeling safe and secure in your presence. After a couple of quick thrusts, his abs tighten and he cums in your hand.

He holds you and you lay in his arms. “You did so good baby. Let’s go get you in the bath.” Miguel picks you up under your aching thighs and carries you to the bathroom that was in your room. He sets you down on the chair that sat in the bathroom. He turns on the bathtub and the water begins heating up. Miguel picks you up once more and sets you into the bath. Your body stretches out and you relax. You share I Love You’s and you lay down for the night.

#miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara is my mans #miguel x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fluff

1K notes · View notes

berryzxx · 6 months

Note

omg hi

can i request a fic where reader has had a bad day so theo cheers her up (like bff's to lovers) bc i want im desperate

thank you

Your mine, sweetheart

hey gal x (also who isn't desperate for Theo?) Pansy is a bitch in this one but anyways hope u like it x)

Summary: Theo cheers you up after a bad day

Theodore Nott x reader

Pansy looked me up and down, hate simmering in her eyes. She scoffed "Don't tell me that's what your wearing. You look like an absolute slag"

After being best friends with her for our first few years and realising how toxic she really was I had tried to keep my distance from her but she didn't get the hint and instead liked to comment on each and every thing I did. Of course the comments hurt me but maybe after the years they just didn't hurt as much. Maybe I was immune now. The dress I had chosen for this nights party was a short green dress, something to celebrate our Quidditch win but of course the dress didn't live up to her expectations. What was really annoying was she wore a similar dress just a few weeks back but according to her I was the one who looked like a slag.

"I think it looks nice Pansy"

I turned to my mirror and applied a light pink lip gloss that was almost finished because of the amount of times I had used it. I couldn't be bothered arguing with her tonight. I wasn't about to let her ruin my mood.

"I bet you tried finding the shortest dress in that store"

I rolled my eyes "What are you on about?" I was getting tired of her stupid, annoying comments.

"You know exactly what I'm on about. Don't think Theo's gonna fuck you after this, honey. Your just like all the other desperate bitches at the party"

I gritted my teeth together and put my lip gloss down trying to appear as unaffected as I could. "Fuck off. Jealousy isn't a good look on you"

I walked past her, tears forming in my eyes. Before I could leave she made sure to mutter "Once a whore, always a whore". I let my feet carry me outside to the warm summer evening where the sun was setting. I walked around the lake trying to blink away the tears so my makeup wouldn't be ruined. Was there any point of going to the party? No, probably not.

I sat down on hill, the freshly mowed grass making a soft carpet for me to relax on. Me and Theo had sat hear many times before whether it was to have a late night snack or to miss lessons. It was a comforting place.

I sat there until the sun set and soon it got darker. Almost too dark. My thoughts had cleared now. My tears no longer trying to make an appearance. Maybe I could join the party. Just because one person was being an ass didn't mean everyone else would be.

As I was contemplating on whether I should stand up or not someone cleared their throat behind me. I raised my wand instantly expecting...well something scary I guess.

It was in fact Theo holding a small golden lantern. I didn't bother standing up and instead waited for him to flop down next to me.

"My favourite person isn't going to congratulate me on my performance today?" He placed the lantern between us so we were both bathed in a warm orange light. I could just about make him out, his features looking almost worried.

"You were good." I said. I didn't have the social battery to talk to him right now even if he had done nothing wrong.

He smiled at me "I know. What's up with you? Your usually dragging me to parties but instead your...well from my point of view it looks like your mourning your rabbit"

I let out a small laugh. Even at times like these he could make me laugh. "I just don't understand. Why is it so hard for some people to be nice?"

Theo shrugged "They're probably insecure. Or jealous."

"Yeah. Probably"

We sat in silence for another few minutes before Theo stood up stretching out his hand to me "Come on, sweetheart. Your the life of the party. It's no fun without you"

I stood up and handed him the lantern instead "You can be the life of the party tonight. I'm tired"

"Don't let someone ruin what you want to do. Y/n you love parties. You've never missed one. Unless you really are tired, I'll respect your decision and walk with you to your room"

I contemplated my options. I could do what I really wanted to do which was go to the party and enjoy life with my friends or I could get cosy in my bed and feel like a coward for the next week. He was right. No one got to influence what I wanted to do.

"Your playing truth or drink with me then" He grinned at me "Whatever you want, sweetheart"

As we walked back inside the castle from a more hidden entrance Theo made sure to hold my hand because apparently he "didn't want me to trip and get hurt". Whatever the reason was it didn't stop butterflies from forming in my stomach.

I had to blink at the sudden brightness of the corridors, the light finally letting me see Theo clearly. He had dropped my hand and instead was surveying me.

Theo's eyes took their time on inspecting my outfit, hungrily devouring the way the dress emphasised my curves. He finally brought his gaze up to look at me, his eyes slightly darker than usual "You look absolutely divine"

I smiled at the compliment "If you weren't my best friend, I'd say you were flirting with me"

He raised an eyebrow "Maybe I am. It's quite hard not to when my best friend is so fucking gorgeous" My cheeks heated at his words, my dress feeling a little too tight all of a sudden. I think I needed to sit down after that.

He extended his arm so I could wrap my hand around it. "I can't wait to tell everyone we're dating"

I paused. What did he say? "If that's ok with you" He added hastily.

I thought about what he said. Had I always imagined what it would be like if Theo asked me out and we weren't just best friends anymore? Of course I did. Every single second of every single day.

"That's fine with me"

He smiled again, a small dimple appearing in his left cheek "Then it's settled. Your mine, sweetheart. And I'm yours"

(not proof read cause im a lazy bitch)

(also will be creating a master list soon :) )

350 notes · View notes

sanakimohara · 5 months

Text

“Pretty When You Cry” B.C.

“Although she is alone…she knows the truth.” + “If you think I’m pretty lay your hands on me…”

Summary: Chan as a yandere. Borderline stalking type of yandere to be exact.

WARNING: MDNI, cursing, smut obviously, mentions of kidnapping, and cnc…among other things.

A/N: this was a request and it caught my interest so I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did while thinking/writing about it.

—————————————————————

A knife could slice right through the thick tension between you and Chan right now.

Not because his eyes were glaring daggers straight into your Bambi like stare or that you were purposely keeping your distance from him by sticking close to the nearest exit. No, the reason was much more complicated.

You. More specifically, you assuming Chan wouldn’t be jealous or possessive of you.

Now, he had you all alone to ‘talk’ but you knew that just meant your night was about to riddled with consequences from him. So, planted yourself near the door -a useless precaution you took to feel safer.

Little did you know, he’d locked it the moment you wandered into his room. You came to him under the impression he just wanted to show you something he’d been working on and was only slightly aware of his true intentions.

Now, you wished more than ever that you’d paid more attention to your small suspicions, but it was too late for you to leave without having to go through him. Chan made sure of that by pocketing his hotel room key card.

“Chan, please..” you started to reason with him, voice trembling slightly as you spoke, and your body involuntarily pressing against the locked door as he stood up abruptly. His face was unnervingly expressionless but his eyes were piercing, swirling with all the intensity of emotions you’d become familiar with.

Jealousy, lust, and possessiveness. Anger was present too -steadily growing the longer he replayed the image of you flirting with some random staff member during their concert.

“Let me ask you something,” Chan was now inches from you, his entire body dwarfing yours in comparison, and his voice shallow with simmering rage. He really was terrifying when upset and with envy added into the mix he was downright evil sometimes.

Shamefully, it turned you on more than anything else. Being afraid of him, what he might do you, and how he’d take his anger out on you. It was so wrong for you to be wet already, merely in Chan’s presence, and forced to stay there until he decided to let you go.

Which was never, in his opinion.

“Do you like pissing me off?,” he nearly growls the question and your tummy does several slips hearing the rasp carry through to his accent. “N-no, I don’t Chan-“ you answer him carefully, face heating up as your fear amps up to new heights when he grabs your jaw with one hand and places the other above your head to lean forward on. “Yes, you fucking do. Why else would you go around whoring yourself out to other men then?” Chan taunts you with a faux smile, raising his brows slightly to add to his condescending tone, and you huff softly in return.

“Channie, I promise we were just-“ you’re cut off again as his hand on your face falls to your throat, gripping it tight until you have to hiss in a breath, and cling to his wrist with both of your small hands. Chan holds you there, counting the seconds until he sees tears prick your lidded eyes, and only then does he loosen his hold on you.

“I don’t care what you were doing, little one. This is the last time you’ll ever try me, understood?” You could barely hear him over your heart drumming your ears from being choked so ruthlessly seconds ago, and when you don’t answer him immediately Chan takes that as a sign of defiance on your end.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, dark eyes filling with a new emotion as he watched you struggle to breathe with his hand still putting pressure on your throat. You already looked so broken in for him, probably bound to drop to your knees if he let you go, and your pathetic attempts to wriggle out of his grasp never failed to amuse him.

Chan would never let you go, you knew that, but still tried with all your might to fight him off -even if you’d been craving his affection the whole time.

It was part of your dynamic. Chan could drag you through hell and back, you’d insist on running away, but ultimately fail and let him do whatever he wanted to you.

“I think you need a little reminder of who you belong to,” Chan hums lowly, passing his thumb over the fullness of your bottom lip before slowly pushing it into your warm mouth. “Suck,” he commands, pressing down on your tongue slightly as you start to do exactly that. Quiet whimpers vibrate through your throat as you lick and suck on his thumb, doe eyes sparkling with need as he watched you obey his every word.

You could feel his hardened cock through his jeans, the length of it pressed right against your pelvis and lower stomach, and you were tempted to reach down and palm him just for the hell of it. Unfortunately, he’d quickly pull your hand away, reminding you that “you’re not allowed to touch daddy until I say you can…”

You hated that rule but knew the consequences for breaking it would only leave you edged to the brink of delirium and his cum plowed deep into your sore womb.

Chan was certainly not the man to tease -unless you were prepared to endure the corresponding punishment.

So, you took pleasure in sucking on his fingers, imagining it was cock instead, and continuously drooling on his digits until he removed them. You coughed softly as he did, chest heaving, and eyes still watering as they refocused on his face.

Chan couldn’t help but chuckle at your disoriented expression, always so neat and sweet in public, but behind closed doors and in his view you just looked like a love sick pup waiting to be used.

You half expected him to push you down to your knees, already accepting your fate of him using your throat as his personal cock sleeve, but Chan had other ideas.

He closed the distance between you two, ducking his head to capture your spit slick lips with his plump ones. You moaned as he pushed his tongue past yours, taking his time to explore your mouth, and swallowing the short and desperate noises you let out in between each kiss.

Your hold on his veiny wrist and arm traced up to his neck, gently massaging the muscle there before your fingers tangled through the hair at the back of his head. Chan grunted into your mouth when lightly pulled on his dark hair, “I should’ve fucked you in front of him,” he mumbles harshly against your lips, hands gripping your hips to turn you around in one quick motion.

A small yelp flies from your chest as your frontside meets the cold surface, Chan’s body weighing down on yours as his hands slid from your waist to the closure of your black high waisted shorts. He started to undo the tedious buttons and zipper while tracing his lips down the right side your neck. You whined as he littered mark after mark on your unblemished skin, his hands now hooked on the sides of your shorts to pull them off, and his heavy breaths causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“You would’ve liked that, yeah? Daddy fucking you in front of everyone so they’ll never forget who you belong to?” His chest rumbled against your back as he spoke, tone bordering on desperation as you whined and reached a hand up to caress one side of his face. “Yes,” you moan loudly, finally shedding your usual timid nature to fully enjoy the moment, and Chan smirked against skin hearing your delicate voice reach a new octave.

“You’re such a slut, and you’re all mine too,” he muses, slipping one hand right between your shaking thighs, and delving past the fabric of your underwear to cup your mound. “Ahm…stop! No..!” You half moan and half whimper as he takes in the soaking expanse of your cunt.

It was embarrassing. You were definitely more than eager to have him touch you and now he knew it.

Chan laughed dryly at your pathetic attempt to refuse him, fingers sliding up and down your folds to collect as much of your cum as possible before swirling those same fingers around your clit. “You want me to stop? That’s not what your body wants, now is it, baby?” He didn’t need you to answer, your broken cries were enough for him, and the dazed look in your eyes only intensified as he played with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“…s-stop p-please….ill be good…just-just let me go…” you try again to win your freedom, voice cracking as a few tears began to trickle down your flushed cheeks. His attention to your clit had migrated to your entrance, prodding it open with two thick fingers before he shoved them into you as deep as possible. “Fuck ..,” Chan inhaled sharply from how tight your cunt was, already clenching around his fingers like you’d break if he put anymore in.

He might’ve came right then and there if he hadn’t already built his stamina up but his cock still twitched just from the constant pulsing of your wet core.

“Daddy, s’ too much....” you weakly called for his attention, panting as he curled, pumped, and twirled his fingers inside you. He reached every spot that made you see stars and even had you circling your hips to the pace of his hand. “I don’t care,” Chan responded gruffly, back to marking your neck and shoulder as he sped the pace of his fingers up.

You choked on a string of moans, face contrasting into a mindless picture of pleasure as he abused your cunt. “Nooo.. ah!” You tried your best to keep protesting, yet he only added to your torture by slowly circling his thumb on your clit . Now, you were at a loss for words, head emptying of any thoughts besides cumming on his hand.

You were incredibly close to the edge and Chan noticed from just one look at your beautifully lost and delirious stare. Your head lulled back onto his shoulder, eyes rolling slightly as he brought you to your climax with precise pumps into your dripping cunt. “Cumming…” you whimper into the crook of his neck, letting the smell of his cologne fill your head as the knot in your tummy snapped. He groaned as you gushed on his hand, making a mess in your lacey underwear as well, and watched you rock your hips to ride your high out.

Chan smiled at the sight, in love with how messy and careless you could be when he touched you. “You’re gonna cum like this on my cock next, princess…” he announced it like a command and all you could muster was a shaky exhale followed with a lazy smile as you felt him drag his fingers out of your sticky entrance.

“You’ll never forget what it means to be owned by me again, baby girl..”

—————————————————————

Should I make a PT2? I kind of already did hehehe….we will see how PT1 goes first, yeah? 🖤

BONUS CONTENT +

(Sorry not sorry for this…🖤)

#skz #stray kids #skz smut #bang chan #bang chris #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #chan skz #christopher bang #chan x reader #chan x you #chan x y/n #chan x female reader #SoundCloud #Spotify

171 notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 1 year

Text

Some jealous Aemond Targaryen scenarios

Aemond knows that you're already his, and he trusts you. You would never betray him. But this doesn't stop him from wanting to cut out the wandering eyes of the men who leer at your beauty. Both eyes, preferably, so that they may never gaze at you again.

One supper, he watches as you dance with Jacaerys, your childhood friend who remains dear to you. Your smile is like sunshine, and he loathes that it isn't directed at him. He lets it continue, because you've once gotten cross at him for being so possessive of you, especially around Jace or Luke, who are like your brothers.

"Seems like your lovely lady is enjoying herself," Aegon mocks, wanting to add fuel to Aemond's already simmering fire.

"Shut your mouth, brother," Aemond spits out. But in that moment, he notices Jacaerys' hand tighten around your hips, a bit too low for his liking. Aemond slams his goblet harshly onto the table, splashing wine everywhere. All stares land on him, confused or shocked. You raise your eyebrows, already used to your lover's outburts, as if to say 'What is it this time, Aemond?'

He slowly makes his way over to you, stealing you from Jacaerys' hold. "Allow me to have this dance with you, my love." The commotion restarts, and Jace backs away to return to his place in the table. Daemon finds himself smirking at his nephew's blatant jealousy.

One afternoon, as you sit alone in the gardens, Larys Strong emerges seemingly out of nowhere, mentioning something about an offer "to commit favours of the highest discretion" for you, for a paltry price that he failed to mention.

You relay this incident in passing that evening to Aemond, as you sit with him in his quarters, quietly studying Valyrian philosophy. His lips curl in distaste, and he doesn't say much in return. You fail to notice his grip on the page of his book tightening, partially tearing it out.

You barely see Larys Strong after that. When you do, he only greets you rushedly, not even meeting your eyes. As if he was afraid.

The worst of it occurred when a knight from Dorne, who was unaware of your relationship with the Prince Aemond, openly asked for your hand in the courtyard.

"Utter one more word to my lady, and I will feed you to my dragon." Aemond says lowly, his eye glinting dangerously at the Dornishman.

"Where I come from, we despise dragons," the knight counters, blissfully unaware of what he's inviting to happen, "I'm not afraid of you, Targaryen prince. The lady should have a say in this. She should choose."

"She has already made her choice," Aemond's hand tightens on the hilt of his sword, resting by his waist. Your hand drifts atop his, trying to calm him down.

"Please, Ser. It will only ever be Prince Aemond whom I love. He is the only one." You state clearly, hoping to assuage the knight's desires.

The knight gazes at you for a while, "Very well, my lady." Aemond gets summoned by Ser Criston Cole, so he tugs at your waist, "Let us go, my dearest."

Aemond starts to walk away first, but he faintly hears the knight whisper to you in a rush, "Should you tire of riding that scaly dragon, my lady, you know where to find me."

You mistakenly think that was the last you've seen or heard of that knight, when he left King's Landing. But a week later, news reaches you. That very knight was found dead, scorched to a nearly unrecognizable husk. Burned to his death. You feel sick to your stomach, the realization creeping up to you.

This should make for an interesting conversation to have with your dear Aemond during supper.

🐉🖤🐉🖤🐉🖤🐉

Masterlist

some 3am thoughts, written in a rush, so I couldn't add a taglist for this one :)

#aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen headcanons #aemond targaryen x y/n #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #ewan mitchell #jealous!aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader

1K notes · View notes

lazybutsmexy · 1 year

Note

I don't really have an idea in my mind rn. But i do want to request ( if you dont mind ) protective König or jealousy König either of them are interesting for me

And just wanted to say that all of ur works are amazing !! *chef kiss*

( ignore my grammar, I'm quite bad at english TT )

Hello love!! I'm so happy you liked my writings hehe and don't worry about your English, it's completely fine 🫶♥️

Jealous König drabble

•~•~•~•

Jealous König is a rarity. In fact, it's a "blink and you miss it" sort of reaction. That is because he doesn't show off how it bothers him when you laugh at other men's jokes or don't immediately shrug someone off when they lay a hand on your shoulder. Unless he notices that you're uncomfortable - which he never misses, by the way - he won't act on it.

In his mind, he has no control over who you think is funny or who you let touch your body. He trusts you, with his whole body, mind and heart, and respects your integrity as a person, a strong individual, a partner. It doesn't mean he can't feel jealous, but it slowly simmers in his body as he tries not to let it show.

He knows that jealousy comes from a place of insecurity, of seeing himself as not enough to fill your needs. Another source of insecurity is that nasty bug in the back of his head telling him how you would replace him at the drop of a hat for someone more capable of filling those needs.

Jealousy to König means insecurity, anger, greed. He always wants to be a better man for you, and that means getting ahold of his emotions and keep them down, lest he does something that - God forbids - hurts you.

He is quiet in general, as a default setting, especially in large gatherings. And his eyes always search for and find your figure no matter the situation. So you don't instantly notice that his blood is slowly boiling in the inside at the mere thought of another man shooting his shot with you. For the past ten minutes, König has been looking for any clue in your body language that indicated that this private was making you uncomfortable, just so he could stomp over to you and scare the shit out of him away.

You feel his stare, so you turn to him and smile sweetly before you notice that his eyes don't crinkle at the edges like he usually does as a response. The man next to you - you already forgot his name, that's how unimportant he is to you - continues talking about some of his accomplishments back in highschool, but you tune out his voice in order to study König a little more.

His posture is rigid, his arms crossed over his chest and his breathing slow. Even from across the bar where the party is happening, you can feel a threatening aura emanating from him, as if you're watching a hungry tiger ready to pounce.

Usually, your blood fills with endorphins when you notice König staring at you, as that tends to be an indicator that he wants you. But this is a different stare, and fills your blood with ice. König emanates anger.

After being so intimate with König for a few months, you have learned to pick apart the clues in his behaviour. And right now, you want to kick yourself in the face for not noticing sooner. The man next to you - who you considered no more than background noise at this point - could end up bedridden for who knows how long if you didn't do something quick.

You look again at him and interrupt him with a smile, making sure that König could read your lips from where he was: "nice to meet you, uh," you quickly glance at his tag, "private Lang, but I'm going to join my boyfriend now." The private just stared owlishly at you as you got up and left some bills on the counter, before turning and walking towards König of all people.

Konig himself felt a mixture of different emotions: pride that you called him your boyfriend, relief because you preferred him over that dude, annoyance that it took you so long to leave that guy behind, and utter giddiness over being called your boyfriend in such a public setting. (He would swallow the last one down and leave it for a talk later).

He also got up and opened the door for you, indicating that he was more than ready to finally have you all to himself, and you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the long night of atonement you had in front of you.

#nonnie ask #könig x reader #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig fanfiction #könig headcanons #könig cod #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 könig #cod x reader

757 notes · View notes

poisonous-honey · 3 months

Text

36-Stars of Jealousy

(This is a re-upload: originally posted on UniverseUchu sometime around Sumeru's release)

Who’s Here: Venti

Contains: SAGAU (Not Cult AU), Angst (Venti is jealous of Nahida)

Note: This is incredibly self-indulgent and mostly was just me writing my frustrations with the Sumeru Abyss through Venti. I'm so glad we're done with Sumeru honestly their Abyss floors sucked shit.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Venti didn't usually get jealous, but right now he could feel it building in his heart and simmering throughout the rest of his body. He can hear the cheers and laughter from his player beyond the vale, the absolute elation in their voice obvious to anyone in Teyvat. Usually he would bask in their happiness, whether the cause was him, something or someone else, he didn't care. All that matter was that they were happy... But... This was an immensely special occasion.

The player had finally finished the Spiral Abyss with 36 Stars. A complete clear. After getting severely unlucky over and over again with artifacts and throwing themselves again and again at floor 12 only to come out a loss every time, this was definitely a momentous occasion. Venti wanted to be happy for them, he truly did, but he cannot for the life of him let go of his seething jealousy. When the player first booted the game it was very obvious he was the reason they even got it. He was the reason they continued after learning about the gacha system. He was the one they were most excited about when seeing multiple vision users on screen. His nation was their favourite. His element was their favourite. He was the first limited 5 star they got the first constellation for. He was their favourite. One of their strongest and most used units. So why... Why wasn't he needed... Why was dropping him off the team what brought the Abyss to full completion. Why was replacing him with the Dendro Archon, the one with such a half assed build, the play that brought them victory?

Now Instead of being the object of their affection, he was watching them gush over Kusanali. Instead of him partying with his team, he's sitting here sulking in Old Mondstadt mourning his permanent removal and seething over his replacement. He can't even cry in the solace of the Teapot since it's not set to Inazuma, Top 8. It's set to Sumeru, Abyss Champions. Just thinking about it makes him want to cry.

He knows he's being dramatic. He knows he should just get over it. He's still their favourite that hasn't changed. He's still firmly placed in the Inazuma layout. Their still happy to use him and still want to get him better artifacts than what he currently has. Even if all of that wasn't true he still has a role to play and can't afford the Player to see him like this. Despite all of that he can't help but feel like Kusanali is slowly going to replace him, not only in his team, but in the Teapot, in usage, in their heart. He's anxious and jealous and wants nothing more than to prove somehow he's still better than her. Absolute confirmation that she'll never take his position as favourite. But more than anything, he wished she never joined in the first place.

#sagau #self aware genshin #genshin #Reader Insert #X Reader #pois.writes #Pois.Posts

57 notes · View notes

misshoneyimhome · 6 months

Note

Lol another angle on the oral while on the phone ask - Will is on FaceTime with Alex and Sandy and you need some attention…and he’s not giving it so you decide to be naughty and set yourself up across from him on the couch and make him decide what he would rather watch as you play with yourself🤭

Haven't we all pondered this a million times?! Or maybe it's just me. But yes, absolutely, we definitely need this in our lives, right? 🤩

[By the way, in case you're curious, I'm totally envisioning William doing Edward Cullen's facial expression from Twilight when Bella attempts to seduce him on their honeymoon! 🙈]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

Warnings; 18+ smut; sex toy; masturbation; unprotected sex (p in v);

Smooth Operator ⚡️

Ah, that laughter.

Specifically, William’s laughter.

Oh, how you adored it. The sound of his laughter echoed in your condo as he sat on the sofa, video chatting with his brother Alex and best friend Rasmus Sandin, and it brought you immense joy to hear it resonate through the air.

Yet, amidst the happiness, a hint of jealousy crept in, didn't it?

William was about to go on a ten-day road trip, and you felt a pang of longing to spend some quality time with him before he hit the road.

So, trying to be discreet as possible, you approached him and planted a tender kiss on his head, offering a sweet smile to the boys on the screen.

However, as time passed and the conversation with the lads showed no signs of ending soon, your eagerness turned a bit restless. Typically, you weren't the clingy type in relationships, not usually yearning for attention, but with the knowledge that your man would be away for more than a week, a certain neediness for his company emerged.

"Darling," you whispered softly, catching his attention briefly. "Do you think you'll be finished soon?"

"I don't know, babe," he simply responded before turning back to the conversation, casually brushing you off.

Your impatience began to simmer, and a sense of frustration started to rise. This was supposed to be your night together, a ritual you both cherished before a road trip.

However, rather than getting upset and raising your voice, you opted for a subtler, more teasing approach. Stepping into your bedroom, you made your way for your closet where you knew you had that little piece of lacy lingerie that William usually adored too much and slipped it on.

Then, with a confident and satisfied smirk on your lips, you headed to your nightstand, where you discreetly picked up a small item, concealing it in your hand before heading to the bathroom. There, you grabbed a satin robe, draping it over yourself, even if it was only for a brief moment. Nonetheless, it added to the dramatic effect you aimed to achieve.

Returning to the living room, you found William in the same spot he'd been all along, and slowly, you made your way towards him, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you sought to capture his attention.

However, his attention remained fixed on the boys. And with William wearing earbuds, you couldn't catch a word of their conversation – not that you'd comprehend the Swedish language anyway, but that wasn't the point.

Taking a stand by the edge of the furniture, facing him, you held a dramatic pause. Then, with a deliberate move, you untied the knot of your robe, letting it gracefully fall to the ground, revealing your alluring set of underwear.

This action did manage to capture your man's attention.

Glancing up briefly from the screen, he released a small chuckle. Entertained by the sight before him, he couldn't resist smiling. However, his focus swiftly returned to the chat with the boys.

"Alright," you thought, deciding it was time to up the ante.

Gracefully, you navigated around the sizeable sofa and positioned yourself directly in front of your boyfriend. With your legs slightly parted, you eased back into the plush cushion, and began to delicately tracing your hand along the skin of your neck. Slowly, your fingers glided downwards, skimming your collarbone and descending to one of your breasts. You began giving it a gentle massage, emitting soft moans while lightly pinching your nipple through the lace fabric of your bra.

A mischievous smile curled upon William's lips as his gaze once again shifted from the screen to the captivating sight of you, now focusing your attention on your other breast, lavishing it with the same care as the first one.

Gradually, he felt a rush of heat flooding down to his groin, a tingling anticipation stirring within him merely by observing you.

"Hey, are you still with us, Willy?" Sandy chuckled in Swedish, noticing his friend's sudden distant expression. And shaking his head slightly, William redirected his attention back to the conversation with the lads.

Releasing a light sigh, you felt a twinge of disappointment, thinking you were close to capturing his attention. However, you weren't overly concerned as you knew this was just the beginning.

Slowly, your hand continued its descent, trailing past your navel and down to the edge of your sheer lace panties, leaving little to the imagination. Rather than delving under the fabric immediately, you retrieved the discreet bullet vibrator hidden in your other hand and lightly brushed it against the fabric of your folds.

Your gaze remained fixed on William as you delicately teased yourself with the toy, running it against your clit. And when you pressed the button and activated it, William's eyes couldn't help but dart away from the screen to observe your actions.

Soft, involuntary moans escaped your lips as the vibrations teased your sensitive core, coinciding with William's growing member, evident by the visible bulge straining against his grey jogging bottoms.

"Fuck," he murmured under his breath, feeling a surge of heat and arousal as you increased the intensity of the vibrations. You closed your eyes, tilting your head back against the pillow in sheer pleasure.

The scene became almost too intense for him to handle.

You were deliberately pleasuring yourself in his presence, all in a bid to captivate his attention.

And it was undeniably working.

His erection throbbed, and he found himself yearning for more than just visual stimulation.

However, his brother's voice interrupted once again, pulling his gaze back to the screen. But despite his best efforts to focus on the conversation, the way you skilfully manipulated the little toy was far more enticing and captivating.

And what drove William completely wild was when you delicately moved the piece of fabric aside with one hand and applying gentle pressure to your entrance with a finger. Then with the bullet's contact with your sensitive nerve centre it elicited a slightly louder moan from you, though you were consciously aware of not letting the boys hear.

William had to stifle a grunt, biting down on his lip as he witnessed you pressing your finger slowly into your warmth, directing those pulsating vibrations through your body. Your slight wriggling under your own touch intensified his arousal.

Your breaths grew heavier, and he observed the rise and fall of your chest as you neared climax. William's palms began to sweat as his eyes remained fixed on you, almost completely distracted from his friend's conversation.

"Willy? Willy!" Sandy's voice called out, but William found himself unable to tear his gaze away as you added another finger, and he watched intently as your fingers disappeared into and out of your entrance.

"Shit," he softly muttered, sensing your impending orgasm. He could tell from the urgency in your hand movements and the irregular rhythm of your breath.

"Yes, baby… yes…" you moaned in a low, trembling whisper, sensing the wave of pleasure building in your core. "Yes, I'm coming," you gasped, your words directed into the air, fully aware of William's intense gaze fixed upon you.

A shudder rippled through your body as you arched your back, experiencing the intense climax that surged through you. Your fingers became coated with your juices, as the vibrations from the bullet blurring your mind in an overwhelming rush of pleasure.

"Guys, I've got to go," William stated firmly, abruptly closing his laptop and tossing it onto the nearby sofa. He hastily rose from his seat, swiftly pulling down his jogging bottoms and boxers, marked with a damp patch of pre-cum.

Still riding the wave of euphoria, you were taken aback by William looming over you, causing you to retract your fingers from your core and emit a startled gasp, as he eagerly grabbed the little toy from your hand, tossing it aside.

"Fuck, you're driving me insane, and you damn well know it!" he grunted, positioning the tip of his cock against your entrance.

"Well, what a terrible thing for me to do," you chuckled lightly, finally achieving what you’ve longed for.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you drew him in for a passionate kiss as he pushed himself into your warm, inviting depths.

Moans and grunts filled the room as William rhythmically moved his hips, thrusting his length in and out of your heated core, his grip tightening on the furniture behind you.

"Willy… yes, harder," you gasped, your plea met with William's enthusiastic compliance.

His thrusts established a determined rhythm, steadily building towards the impending climax, his breaths matching your own.

"Baby, shit... I'm gonna," he moaned, continuing the relentless movement of his hips.

"Yes, Willy, come…" you exhaled, feeling your own second climax approaching in sync with his.

His thrusts intensified, growing faster and more forceful as he neared the edge, sensing your inner muscles tightening around him.

"Come with me, baby,” he grunted.

You tried to nod as the rhythm of his thrusts hit your sensitive spot, and soon, the familiar rush surged through your body, causing you to cry out in ecstasy, reaching that peak once again.

Following suit, William reached his own climax, grunting as he released, filling your insides with his warm, sticky cum.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed into the crook of your neck. "You're so damn dirty…"

Amidst deep breaths, you offered a light chuckle. "I know, darling... but I did get your attention, didn't I?" You smirked before drawing him into a tender kiss.

"Indeed, you did."

#my asks #18+#william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs interview #nhl smut #wn88 imagine

73 notes · View notes

dreadsuitsamus · 7 months

Text

Anytime | Kensei Muguruma x Reader |

author's note: this hurt a little bit to write lmao and i apologize in advance if it hurts you too

pairing: kensei muguruma x fem!reader

warnings: reader and kensei are divorced, a little bit of angst and jealousy

"I'm on my way."

It rings in your head, over and over, as you sit on the side of the road and wait for your ex-husband to come save you. Stomach a pit and each and every nerve wired and frayed, tears nearly brim in your eyes at the anticipation of his arrival. Being stuck on the side of a road you're sure hasn't seen a single driver on it in at least a week is one thing, and it's another when you've got three flats and an ex-husband with a hefty I told you so locked and loaded.

Your divorce with Kensei was finalized over two years ago, but the sad fact remains that he's the most important person in your life, and vice versa— which is why you informed him of this last-minute road trip, only to be warned against it.

"I don't think your car can handle that trip. Put it off until I can make sure everything is functioning properly."

And like a fool, you neglected to take it seriously and off you went to the festival. Perhaps it's why you had as great of a time as you did— karma was evidently waiting with a dish best served cold.

Your heart jumps at the sight of a black Silverado truck pulling up. He hates that damn truck, much preferring his fuel-efficient Elantra, but you've left him with no choice today. You're so distraught you can't even take much time to appreciate those long legs of his as he steps out of the truck; sometimes you wonder how you could be divorced from the most handsome man you've ever known.

Dressed in jeans with the platinum chain you'd gotten him many moons ago attached, boots and a black button down shirt, your gut tells you he was busy when you called. Looking so fine… He was on a date, wasn't he?

It burns.

With a resounding sigh, you meet him in the halfway distance between your cars. Kensei's never been particularly talkative and mouthy unless angry, and though there's certainly some simmering beneath the surface, he's calmer than you initially expected. He passes you a bottle of water and a protein bar before going to inspect the damage, subsequently sighing and rubbing his temples with his long fingers. "I'm amazed that your luck is so shit that you only got three flats so your goddamn insurance wouldn't cover it."

"I'm still trying to figure out how I only got three."

"Divine intervention." Kensei mutters bitterly and starts to roll up his sleeves past the delicious forearms that once would hold you up against the inferno that is the rest of his body at night. "When's the last time you even got these rotated, let alone changed?"

"I don't even know what having them rotated means."

Kensei sucks in a sharp, irritated breath and steels himself; it'll do no good to get upset this early into the project. He just… Wishes you fucking listened to him. About anything, at this point. "New rule. Get it done every time you get an oil change." And thank God your car is one that will bug the hell out of you about your service interval— he doesn't want to consider what your oil and other fluids would be like otherwise.

"Okay." You mumble and crack open the water, taking a long pull from the cold drink. It's refreshing and perfect, pulling your spirits up just a tad as you start to feel a little bit better physically.

"Eat that protein bar." Your ex-husband demands, heading for the bed of his truck and lowering the tailgate. He's got everything he needs for the swap— including time. "I know you, you little shit. You're running on a refresher from six hours ago and had a hearty helping of hopes and dreams to eat, didn't you?"

You scowl as you chew the protein bar. It's terrible, like every protein bar you've ever tried, but at least he got one that doesn't make you want to vomit. "I didn't call you here so you could lay into me about my eating habits."

Kensei's brown eyes cut to you as he lowers a tire to the ground. "You rather me go off about the rest of the shit you got yourself into now, then? 'Cause I was saving it for later."

Rolling your eyes, you look away from the man you married six years ago. He huffs and resumes himself, setting up a workstation and prepping your car to start swapping the new tires on. You find a spot nearby him, settling down onto the lawn chair you took to the festival as he begins cracking off lugnuts. Sparing a glance your way, Kensei feels a bit of a tug at his heart despite his rage. You may be his ex-wife, but you've never been bad to him a day in his life. "How long did you sit here before you called me?"

"About two hours." You sigh, finishing the water after forcing the protein bar down. "I tried to get my insurance to help me. They wanted to charge even more because it's a Sunday and I just don't have the money for all that. I considered just camping out for a night and having them come out tomorrow, but…"

Kensei shakes his head. He was waiting for your call or text announcing you were back home; that plan would never fly as long as he's in your life. "We gotta get you a new insurance policy, babe. You're done paying for one that would leave a woman stranded like that."

"Yes sir."

Silence settles in for a while as you watch Kensei work. A light bead of sweat trickles from his temple to his neck, and then he tosses his tools down to carefully slip the buttons open and take off his shirt. If it's somehow possible, his biceps are bigger than they used to be. Leaving himself in a white tank top, he tosses the shirt your way. "Keep that clean for me, yeah?"

"Mhm." You slip into the oversized shirt, his handsome smelling cologne flooding your senses. He's not slick at all; it's chilly out in this wasteland, and rather than simply ask if you're cold, he'd rather ensure you won't be.

His unstoppable air of authority wraps you up, even now.

"Were you busy?" Tumbles out of your mouth after the beat of silence lasts too long. He's finished one tire already and it's really hit you how much you relied on him during your marriage.

It's no wonder he didn't fight to salvage it.

"No." He lies through his teeth and it's easy. Just a little too easy.

It's no wonder you served him divorce papers.

Huffing softly, your brow draws together. "Yeah, right. You got dressed all nice just to come bail me out? Bullshit. I'm smarter than you give me credit for, Ken."

"And yet, you went on this trip without getting your car checked out." Kensei snaps right back, irritation creeping up and warming his neck and ears. "If you didn't wanna wait for me, fine! Why not take it to Abarai's place?" He's got a point— You've known Renji for years now, and he'd always make time for a friend, his business needs be damned. He'd have it done in a day, easy.

Still, the embarrassment of being scolded like this lights your temper. "I told you, Ken, this trip was not planned. I had a friend up north mention the festival and we decided to go to it and meet up."

"Even if I accept that answer, which I don't, there's no reason for you to let your car get this bad! I don't even wanna look under the hood! Why do I always have to take care of your shit for you?? Time and time again, you fuck up and then you call me to bail you out!"

Your eyes widen with a series of blinks. He doesn't sound pissed as much as he's simply… Tired. Upset. Kensei being angry or frustrated is not foreign to you— on his surface, it's the only emotion he knows. But as his wife, you saw the softer side of his feelings. He does get sad, he does cry and he does have bad days like anyone else. And as you take in his tirade… The realization hits that those glimpses of his belly showing were almost entirely gone by the time of your separation.

That marriage was already doomed by the time you attempted to save it. Serving the papers to him wasn't supposed to do anything but show his true colors— he'd fight for you, or he'd give up. And Kensei chose the latter.

"Ken." You murmur carefully. "What were you doing when I called you?"

Kensei throws the tools down, rubbing his hands over his face. "I was on a date."

You'd rather have been left on the road to die than hear him say those words to you. The sinking feeling in your stomach threatens to send that protein bar back up just at the thought of him sitting at a restaurant with another woman, treating her in the same ways he'd treated you way back when. Kensei dating isn't unusual, per se. He's a single man, attractive and still quite young…

But he's yours.

"And you came for me?"

Kensei's hands drop to his lap. "For better or worse, babe: that's the promise I made you."

"The wedding vows don't particularly mean shit after the divorce." Tears of shock and hurt fill your eyes, though you refuse to blink and let them fall. He will not make you cry again, ever, but… The turn of your head to look away from him sure does accidentally force them out.

Kensei drops his head— he hates it when you cry, and hates himself for being the reason. He should've just lied again, brushed it off and moved onto the next flat. It wouldn't have worked though; the guilt he shoulders when he lies to you eats him alive, and it triples due to the look on your face when he does lie. You know he's not telling the truth, every time he tries it.

"I don't know why you think I'm the type of man to leave any woman stranded, much less you. You're the exception to every rule I have, always have been."

Your lip wobbles. It's true, you've always been the one to break Kensei's rules. He said he didn't date coworkers. But he dated you. He said he wasn't after a serious relationship. He married you. He said you shouldn't see each other after the divorce. Yet, he was calling and asking how you were doing not even a week later.

He's always loved you.

It's quiet for a while, and eventually Kensei gets back to the entire reason he's here. Clouds are rolling in, and he'll be damned if he gets caught in the middle of a rainstorm right now. His chest cavity feels empty and he wants nothing more than to crawl into his bed and sleep these horrible feelings away.

"Why?" You ask after a while, your few tears mostly faded now.

Stop, stop, stop! Stop asking questions, stop crying over your ex-husband moving on!!

"Why what?" Kensei mutters as he torques the lugnuts on the second tire.

You sigh to yourself, a beat of silence taking over again. Kensei's amber eyes flick over to you, snuggled into his shirt and avoiding his gaze as you curl into your chair. You're at war with yourself, that mental battle clear as day on what he can see of your face. His heartstrings tug, and next thing he knows he's wiping his hands and kneeling in front of you, cupping your cheek in his hand so you'll look at him.

His thumb swipes away a small tear. "Babe. Talk to me. You're not gonna feel better otherwise."

Your chest heaves at his touch, at his sincere eyes and warmth that keeps you so in love with him even now as a shudder wracks your entire body. "You keep your promises to me. You're always there when I need you. But why didn't you fight for our marriage?"

Kensei's silver brows raise before knitting together. "You wanted to leave. I wouldn't force you to stay if you weren't happy."

"I wanted you to care! I wanted my husband to tell me he still loved me and that we could work it out, but you didn't! You let me leave without so much as asking why!"

Kensei withdraws his hand. "Of course I cared! Does this—" He gestures back to your car. "Look like I don't care?? You had my whole heart in your palm, and you broke it! But I still come for you! All I want is for you to be safe and happy, and if it's not with me, so be it! You matter more to me than I ever have!"

"I've never wanted anybody else." Your eyes burn with fresh tears. You've never so much as entertained another guy for a potential date, let alone go out with someone after the divorce. There's nothing but your love for Kensei stopping you, but foolishly you hoped he would do the same; how unrealistic and unfair of you.

How many dates has he been on with this woman? Has he kissed her yet? The entire idea makes you want to scream and cry and cuss an innocent woman out for banging your husband. Ex or not, he's still so much of your heart that to lose him would ruin you.

"Then why divorce me?" He murmurs, standing and stepping back. The clouds are darkening, and he feels a hefty drop on his shoulder. "Why put me through a divorce if you wanted to stay together?!"

Anger boils inside your stomach, blood churning at an incredible pace as you rocket out of the lawn chair and fill the space he's created between you. "Why not fight?! If you love me as much as you keep saying, why didn't you fucking try?!"

"I already told you!" Kensei yells right back. "You wanted to go! So I let you go, because it's what you fucking said you wanted! You ended our marriage over a goddamn test, like the six years we spent together were some kinda fucking joke to you. You can't accuse me of not caring when you ended a four year marriage over petty shit!"

"I gave you a choice, Ken! I served the papers, but you signed them." You poke his chest harshly as two raindrops bounce against your forehead.

"I'm not having this argument with you; the shit's been said and done with for almost three years." Kensei turns his back to you as the rain starts a steady fall to swap out the last tire and get the hell away from you.

"Is she pretty?" It's beyond petty, so stupid and childish but you've got to know. If he likes this woman, or God forbid loves her, you'll never call him again. You'll die cold and alone before even considering reaching out to him, as an ex-wife to an ex-husband should.

Kensei stops in his tracks. "Yeah."

"Do you love her?"

"Never."

"Why?"

Kensei looks up at the sky, the gray clouds swirling as the rain descends. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, and it's the same as always every time he's left to gaze at the back of his eyelids— you and him on the night of your wedding, laying together in bed and giggling like teenagers at the prospect of your happy life together starting.

He turns, white tank top half soaked as he comes back to you and holds your face like porcelain. This beautiful face drives me crazy… "Nobody's ever gonna be able to be you."

You whimper and a fresh set of tears mixes in with the rain as Kensei leans down and kisses you, his passion so pent up that he's picking you up and pressing you to his truck before you can make heads or tails of anything. His shirt is swiftly bunched into your hand as the surprise subsides and the gratification fills you to the brim, your lips and tongue sliding with Kensei's in a messy reunification. Too long, it's been too long since you had this, since you felt his warmth on you and reveled in it.

His silver hair is silky between your fingers and he groans as you massage his scalp with your nails. He's always been a bit like a cat in that sense. Your legs around him and his arms around you tighten as you urge your bodies closer, leaving no room for even Jesus now. The rain pours around you, leaving you drenched by the time you've got no choice but to pull back, lest you die making out with your ex-husband.

All in all, not the worst way to go.

Kensei kisses your cheek gently, his lips lingering as he maneuvers to open the door to the passenger seat and shield you from the onslaught of rain. Peppering small kisses while he wipes the rain from your face, he turns the truck on and sets the heater up to keep you from getting sick.

He strips himself of his tank top once he's left you safely in the truck, tossing it in the truck bed before running to finish up the last tire change with this lucky break in the rain. Your fingers come to touch your tingling, smiling lips and you close your eyes as the space of Kensei's truck encompasses you.

By the time Kensei's back, his tools and your old tires all loaded up, you're beyond sleepy. Scooping you into his arms, your husband walks slowly and kisses your temple as he carries you to your car. "C'mon. Time to go home."

You steal a kiss off his lips, and by the time you're back in town, you weigh every option as you sit at a red light behind Kensei. Taking the next turn leads you home, but going straight will bring you right to Kensei's apartment building.

The light turns green.

#kensei muguruma x you #kensei muguruma x reader #kensei imagine #kensei x reader #kensei x you #bleach imagine #bleach x reader #bleach x you #x reader #reader insert #it's open ended but i'm sure y'all can guess what route i'm personally taking!!

90 notes · View notes

softluci · 1 year

Text

inappropriate everything [mdni plz]

this is probs the most explicit post i’ll ever do, just because i cannot get it out of my head, but um: immediately minors dni. immediately no. IMMEDIATELY no. k thx.

so, um. i have friends who are perfectly sane and normal people until they see an attractive person who they like, be it a celebrity or a character or whoever. right? okay. here are some of the things my friends say when they see someone they find just, like, Absolutely Stunning:

“i’m literally creaming—sorry, i mean creaming—SORRY, I MEAN—” “my back is arching” (alternatively: “why is my back arching?”) “almost meowed” “mmmeow” “purring…” “i’m literally chewing/gnawing on my phone” “my throat feels so empty rn :/” “i want them so bad please i am on my hands and knees BEGGING” “gripping my sheets” “sir your boobs look a little heavy…do you need me to hold them for you?” “bites them bites them bites them bites—” “they are so sexy it’s like a disease” “i want them so bad” “every time i see them i grip my sheets and curl my toes" "they're too fine i want to slam my head into the wall” “just moaned out loud”

anyway. this is gonna be pt 1, w/ just luci; when will i do the others? who knows! i'm returning to the abyss right after this, but enjoy!

lucifer

he isn’t in the wrong here. you are—why were you on the phone in the kitchen and not your room? what lucifer was doing hardly counted as eavesdropping, really. voices carry in the house as is, and you were being loud. as a matter of fact, he was on his way to tell you to quiet down, and he just so happened to be curious as to what you were talking about, and with whom.

“no, barbatos—don’t fucking laugh, this isn’t funny—” you could hardly speak, trying not to laugh yourself.

eyebrows raising in mild shock, lucifer leaned against the doorway, waiting for you to notice him. thinking about it—lucifer was being very courteous. he could’ve listened to barbatos’s end if he wanted to, but he had enough respect for him to refrain from doing so. he contained his “eavesdropping” to you out of the kindness of his heart and, as a result, he had no idea what—who—you were talking about.

“that man, look—that man. you get it. you get it. you’re the only one around here who knows my heart, i’m telling you.”

the conviction in your voice stung him, jealousy simmering in his chest. he’d heard enough, he decided, and pushed off the doorway with his shoulder. he stepped towards you in silence, fully intending to interrupt this clearly fruitless conversation—

“lucifer is such a genuine problem, but there’s no solution.”

he stopped, eyes widening. was he a problem for you? why would you go to barbatos instead of him? what—

“that man is so sexy, it's like a disease. no, it—why are you laughing?” your laughter was loud, strong enough to have you leaning against the counter for support.

lucifer blinked. once, twice, before your words sunk in. then, while you gasped for air, he continued towards you, pride swelling in his chest. a smirk settled onto his face, threatening to widen into a grin as he let you carry on.

you tried to continue talking as best you could, “barbatos, i am in distress—i am dismayed—do you know what i go through when he calls me to his office? do y—i have to prepare myself. i have to steel mys—you don't know what it's like.” you collapsed against the island in a fit of giggles, inhaling sharply to try and catch your breath.

lucifer heard—because all bets were off now—lucifer heard barbatos in a similar predicament on the other end, chuckling quietly. for barbatos, that was quite close to hysterics. by that point, he'd truly heard enough. more than enough, actually. he thought it best to alert you to his presence, as a courtesy—otherwise, who knows what other secrets you might've spilled? and what if someone less kind heard you? that wouldn't do.

lucifer took a final, soundless step forward, standing close enough that you couldn't turn around without touching him. he reached forward, plucking your d.d.d. out of your hand with ease. you whipped around, and he inched closer, trapping you between him and the counter. “barbatos,” he drawled, grinning at you, “they'll have to call you back. apropos of nothing, of course.”

perhaps not polite of him, but lucifer hung up before barbatos could respond. although—he imagined his friend was quite amused at the moment. he slid his free hand around your waist, to the small of your back, pressing you flush against him. your heartbeat was erratic—you were so dramatic, it was cute. he slid your d.d.d. into your back pocket, aware of the steady rise in your temperature. he kept his hand on the small of your back, bringing other up to your chin. lucifer enjoys eye contact, you understand, right? now—

“a disease?” he leaned into you, breath ghosting along your face. “that wasn't very nice.”

#saw i got a strange amt of activity for someone who never posts #so i thought i would crank out one of my drafts #had 2 get something out of my system #“something” it was luci brainrot #but anyway come get yall juice #obey me!#obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer

192 notes · View notes

nakachuchu · 9 months

Text

CHAPTER SIX: ENVY

Golden Child series

SYNOPSIS: The weight of guilt and grief are too much for you to handle.

READER: female

WORDS: 1k

WRITTEN: 08/23/2023

Ever since the incident at the college, you did your best to ignore Gojo. The only time you saw him was right after the incident when Yaga lectured you and him in his office.

"You failed to lift a Curtain," he said. "I taught you two that a Curtain is the most important part of exorcising Curses."

Gojo rolled his eyes, having heard this before.

"I expected great things from both of you, but as a long-term student, I expected you to be more mature, Satoru."

"I'm not a babysitter," he retorted. "So what, I didn't raise a Curtain?"

"Someone died today," Yaga sternly said.

Your fists were bunched around your skirt as you looked down at your lap. Nothing had changed since you were a child. You would always be a disappointment, so why did you even bother trying?

Gojo pursed his lips. "I'm sorry."

Apologies were something Gojo Satoru didn't like, but even he drew the line at a death. If he hadn't agreed to split up with you, Emi wouldn't have died.

"Can I take some time off?" you asked quietly.

This was your first mission and it ended in a disaster. Yaga was a fool to think that nothing bad would happen if he paired you up with Gojo, but that was where he went wrong.

Believing Gojo would be mature enough to follow the rules and show you the ropes was his mistake. He should have picked Geto.

But deep down, he knew he chose Gojo because he would be able to kill you if something went wrong.

Yaga didn't want to think of dark things like having to hear news of a child he took in being killed by one of his students, but in the position he was in, he had to make decisions or the Elders would make it for him.

Yaga turned his attention away from Gojo to focus on you. At that moment, Gojo saw something in his teacher that he had never seen before: sorrow.

"Yes," he answered. "Get out of my office."

Quietly, you and Gojo left his office.

"Goddamn!" Yaga shouted as the door to his office shut.

Without a word, you walked quickly down the hallway to get away from Gojo. As you rounded the corner, the black eyes of Ayumi stared deep into Gojo's eyes before disappearing.

You took a deep breath as you walked away from Gojo and Yaga's office, trying to process everything that had just happened. The mission was supposed to be simple - investigate some strange Curse activity at a local college.

And it was all because you and Gojo had split up against protocol. He didn't want to look for the Curses, but you did. You should have known better.

Now a life was lost, and Yaga's disappointment stung deeply. He had such high hopes for you, taking you under his wing and training you personally. And this was how you repaid him.

You blinked back tears as you hurried to your room. Collapsing on your bed, you let the tears fall freely. You weren't cut out for this, not like Gojo. People got hurt when you were around.

“Let it all out,” said Chiaki as he soothed down your hair.

“They were made to be sorcerers,” said Ayumi. “Don't blame yourself.”

Ayumi was right. Gojo was made to be a sorcerer. He was so believing in his role and had no doubts.

You wished you were like him. He coasted along on pure talent. The jealousy simmered inside you. It wasn’t fair. No matter how hard you trained, you'd never catch up to him.

“It's not fair, isn't it?” Chiaki questioned.

It wasn't fair that he got to pretend everything was fine when it wasn't. It wasn't fair that he got to go back to his friends and laugh with them. It wasn't fair that he didn't know who Emi was to you.

She was the only person who knew what you had been through as a child. The two of you shared that secret, and she went to the grave holding that secret.

She wasn't just another casualty. She was someone who protected you as a child.

Your Cursed energy flowed out of you in erratic waves and into Chiaki and Ayumi. They breathed in your energy deeply through their nostrils.

“Why did she have to die?” you cried. “If I had more power… If I had his power…”

Gojo Satoru was your unraveling. He was the turning point in your life that drove you further into madness.

The twins brushed the loose hairs behind your ears and leaned in.

“Fall deeper,” they whispered.

"What'd you do to her, Satoru?" Geto asked.

The Six Eyes turned his gaze to his best friend as he rolled a lollipop around in his mouth.

"I didn't do anything."

"Yeah, you did," said Ieiri.

"Why do you guys assume I did something? What if she did something?" Gojo retorted.

"Because you're you and she's not you," Geto answered.

"She hasn't left her room in three days," said Ieiri.

"Well, that's not my fault," Gojo retorted. "You guys are asses."

"You eat ass," Geto retorted.

As the two began to bicker as they usually did, Ieiri began to wonder if the life of a sorcerer was the right choice for you.

In the three days that you refused to come out of your room, Gojo left food and water outside for you every day. Even if you didn't eat them, he still bought them for you.

Regardless of what he was saying to his friends, he felt guilty for the death of a woman who he could tell meant a lot to you.

He wasn't used to situations like this. Death was always impersonal to him - just a consequence of the job. But seeing how much this one affected you made him realize he didn't really understand the weight of it.

He thought back to your tear-stained face. He had never seen you show any emotion, let alone such anguish. This was new territory for him.

Gojo didn't have experience comforting people. He didn't know what to say or do. Words of sympathy sounded hollow coming from him. All he could do was offer practical help.

Gojo sighed, rolling the lollipop stick around in his mouth, as his latest insult to Geto rolled off his tongue.

Geto and Ieiri exchanged glances, knowing that this was the first time Gojo had been this quiet.

TAGLIST: @sleepydang @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @the-fab-killjoy

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader

67 notes · View notes

acourtofthought · 10 months

Text

Lucien has not stood in the way of Elain choosing to be with anyone.

“Elain loves this lord’s son.” Not quite a question.

“And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”

She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride. A mortal man’s wife. Or she would have been.

“I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke. We all looked at him. Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.” He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here.

“Good. But is she still …” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Does she still mourn him?”

“She was deeply in love with him, Lucien.” His russet eye flashed with simmering rage. An uncontrollable instinct—for a mate to eliminate any threat. But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair. I continued, “It has only been a few months. Graysen made it clear that the engagement is ended, but it might take her a while longer to move past it.”. Again that rage. Not from jealousy, or any threat, but—“He’s as fine a prick as any I’ve ever encountered.” Lucien had encountered him, I realized. Somehow, in living with Jurian and Vassa at that manor, he’d run into Elain’s former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.

First, Lucien walked away once he realized Elain was not over Graysen, walked away so his mate could try to be happy without him.

After the war Lucien could have killed Graysen, the most major threat to his mating bond with Elain at that point. It didn't matter that Graysen rejected Elain because Elain was still in love with Graysen and Lucien was fully aware of that.

Graysen was a fae hating human and while Lucien thinks he's a prick he never once voiced judgement that Elain chose Graysen like the others did. He never made a comment along the lines of "How can she be interested in him?". He simply respected the fact that she did.

“And Elain,” Rhys said, sighing as he removed his other boot, “should not be marrying that lord’s son, not for about a dozen reasons

“Is he good—the lord’s son she’s to marry?” “She thinks he is. She loves him like he is.” “And what do you think?” Nesta’s eyes—my eyes, our mother’s eyes—met mine. “His father built a wall of stone around their estate so high even the trees can’t reach over it. I think it looks like a prison.”

“Why are you letting her marry that bigoted prick?” The question snapped out of him.

“You have a damned opinion on everyone else in the world. Why not tell Elain she’s marrying a monster?”

“She deserves better than someone like that.” “Indeed she does.” Flat and cold.

So if Lucien was willing to walk away from his mate so she could try to reconnect with her fiance (as fine a prick as any he encountered, even his insults are elegant) who she was in love with and agreed to marry, who she had sex with, then why does anyone think Lucien will stand in the way of Elain wanting to be with Az if that is in fact what she wants.

To date, Elain has not told anyone that she wants to be with Az, that she has feelings for Az beyond the physical. If she wanted to be with him, why not just be with him? No one is standing in Elain's way, certainly not Lucien. Not even Rhys because as far as we can tell, she wasn't aware of what was discussed between he and Az on Solstice (though wouldn't it be amazing if she did hear and gave the necklace back because of how Az acted? 😈).

But I'm getting off track because my point was it Lucien has always been willing to step aside so Elain could go back to Graysen, if he did nothing to Graysen or Elain before or after the war knowing she still loved him (despite what his instincts may have wanted him to do), then why are we thinking he'd stand in the way of E/riel? There's no forbidden love when a male is willing to suffer in silence while the mate he longs for takes time to decide what she wants even if it doesn't currently look like him.

And you know what happens to the SJM mates who step aside to allow the female to marry another (Feylin)? To the mates who stand aside while the female they want chooses to sleep with many others (Nessian)? (In comparison, a near kiss is nothing).

They get the girl in the end.

#elucien #pro elucien #anti e/riel #elucien supremacy #acotar mates

64 notes · View notes

6emo6zombie6 · 5 months

Note

HII OMG THANK YOU FOR ANSWERING MY OTHER REQUEST, THE STORY WAS SOO GOOD LIKE AHHH!! <333

not tryna make you feel overwhelmed or anything of the sort, but I was wondering if I could request a fem! reader who used to be bubbly, friendly, and just a fun person to be around before she started to grow distant from Dutch, Arthur, and John and became fond of someone else. She and this new person would be hanging around each other constantly around camp, hunting together, shopping together, etc. Which caused them to start becoming jealous?

this doesn't have to be written in a story, if you want you can write this in head cannon format and I'll still eat it up <3. thank you so much

Hi! I'm sorry for the delay on this one, I had some other stuff going on. The prompt was a little bit of a challenge for me, so i hope this isn't too bad.

Jealousy headcanons ~ John, Arthur, Dutch ~

John:

Initially didn’t think anything of you growing more distant. He still talked to you and went on as usual, even if you showed up to him less.

Started coming to you once you weren’t the one showing up to talk to him.

His time for you got less and less as he was constantly busy doing chores and jobs.

It took him a little while to figure out that your attention had shifted completely to the gang's newest member, he wasn’t surprised. A lady such as you was bound to fall for a handsome, charismatic young man.

He still thought little of it. Who you were around was your decision, not his.

Only got hurt once he tried to talk to you about it. He’d gotten used to initiating most of the conversations in your friendship, but this time you flat-out brushed him off. It was like this new gang member had completely claimed you as his.

“Oh, sorry I have to go help him,” You muttered straight-faced, leaving John mid-conversation.

John just stood there, confused and hurt. Of course, he didn’t show his hurt, he never did, he was too tough to get all pent up over this.

He, however, would still be thinking about this all night. He hated seeing you with this new guy, suddenly he was taking you out and teaching you to shoot. John had unconsciously taken that as his task.

From that point on he started ignoring you completely. No longer did he greet you when you walked past him, he never got you coffee in the morning, and he stopped helping you with your guns.

John’s the type of man to hold a grudge and take it to his grave. He didn’t expect you to come back.

He didn’t try too hard to ignore you, he sometimes even glared at you when you walked past. He wanted to be close again like you were before, but you didn’t see the urgency in socializing with him.

He snapped one time when you bumped into him, and it scared you. His feelings had been bottled up for so long and you hadn’t noticed once or even asked him how he was doing.

Arthur:

He had an opinion on your new relationship, for sure. He knew something was off about this new kid the day Dutch brought him to camp.

Despite his doubts, he managed to keep an open mind. You seemed happy with this guy, at least. That’s what he was most worried about.

He managed to convince himself that your new friend was perfectly sane. He seemed to take good care of you, even if Arthur was still clinging to how that was his task previously.

Yeah, he missed taking care of you. He never even thought of how much he took that task upon himself, it seemed like instinct.

Your absence made him think—a lot. He was used to keeping his thoughts to himself and just letting them simmer down, but this was different. He was worried about you, yet he had no clue how to tell you how he felt.

He avoided you for a while, mostly to keep his thoughts quiet. Of course, it was hard to avoid each other in a camp as small as yours, so he brought it upon himself to be the errand boy for a couple of weeks.

The two of you had a slight clash at a party on campgrounds. Arthur, you, and the rest of the camp were all wasted and having a good time. Arthur managed to keep his thoughts to himself as he usually did, but when he saw you hanging with him again, something snapped.

“Excuse me,” He murmured, still polite despite the amount of whiskey in his system as he grabbed your arm and practically pried you away from your fling. He pulled you along behind the nearest tree, making sure nobody could hear you—and then it started. For once in his life he conveyed his thoughts through words, even if it was with the help of liquor. He told you exactly how he felt, and how your absence had affected him. His words made you realize, making you snap out of your love-drunk state.

Dutch:

He was very optimistic about the new member he had rescued from a life of begging on the street. He knew the two of you would get along, seeing as you had always been a very social and bubbly person.

As Dutch had predicted, the two of you became close super quickly. You seemed to have an interest in all the same things and hobbies. He saw no harm in your new-found friendship, and he didn’t even question anything once the two of you started getting closer than just that.

Though, once you started showing up less, he immediately got worried, and a little defensive over you. He would pull you away from him whenever he felt like you were together too much.

You knew no other behavior from Dutch, he would even pull you away from Arthur sometimes when he felt the two of you were doing too little work, so you went along with his requests as usual.

He started questioning you more and more as time went on, he’d have to pry you apart from your love more often since the two of you seemed to be together every moment you got. He even sent Micah along on a heist with the new member, just to get him out of the camp for once.

He would never admit it, but he was jealous, you were all buddy-buddy with him before this. If Arthur wasn’t deemed his pet, you definitely would have.

“I need you to spend more time doing chores, and less time getting all cozy with that boy.” He confronted you when you were alone for once. “I haven’t seen you talking to Arthur anymore—or Mary-Beth. What has gotten into you?”

You felt a wave of guilt wash over you once Dutch told you off for our distant behavior. You knew he was right, but you’d been avoiding his questions for weeks.

You agreed to see him less to focus more on chores and getting back to socializing with other gang members, even Dutch got his daily dose of attention from you.

Maybe his constant bickering was a tad manipulative, but he knew it was for the better.

#red dead redemption 2 #john marston #arthur morgan #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption fanfiction #dutch van der linde #john marston x reader #rdr2 headcanons

48 notes · View notes