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waitimcomingtoo · 15 days

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Smell Ya Later

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else

Masterlist

Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.

“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.

“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.

“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.

“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.

“Really? I don’t smell anything.”

“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.

“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.

“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”

“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.

“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”

“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.

“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”

“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.

“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.

“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.

“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.

“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”

“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.

“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.

“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.

“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.

“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.

“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.

“It’s called a jade roller.”

“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.

“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.

“And it works?”

“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.

“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.

“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.

“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.

“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.

“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.

“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”

“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.

“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.

“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”

“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.

“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.

“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.

“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”

“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.

The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.

“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.

“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.

“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.

“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.

“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“

“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.

“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.

“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”

“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.

“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.

“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.

“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.

“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.

“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”

Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.

“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.

“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.

“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.

“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” You wondered.

“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.

“How long has what been going on?”

“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.

“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.

“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.

“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”

“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.

“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”

“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.

“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.

“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.

“She has very moving music.” You defended him.

“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”

“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”

“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”

“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.

“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.

“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”

“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.

You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.

“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.

“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.

“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”

“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“

“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.

“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.

“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.

“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.

“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.

“What was the good idea before this one?”

“Chips in my sandwich.”

“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.

“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”

“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.

“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.

“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.

“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.

“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.

“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.

“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”

“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.

“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”

“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”

“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”

“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.

“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.

“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.

“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”

“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.

“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”

“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”

“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands

“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”

“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.

“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”

“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.

“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”

“Really? Never?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”

“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”

“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”

“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”

“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.

“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.

“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.

“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”

“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.

“So?” He asked.

“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”

Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.

“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”

“11 guys.” You corrected.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.

“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.

“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”

“Not at school, no.”

“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.

“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.

“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.

“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.

“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”

“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.

“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.

“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.

“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”

“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”

You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.

“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.

“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.

“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.

“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.

“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.

“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you

“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”

You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.

“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.

“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.

“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.

“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.

“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.

“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.

“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.

“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”

“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.

“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.

“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”

“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.

“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”

“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.

“It is. But-“

“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.

“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”

“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.

“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”

“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”

“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.

You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.

You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.

“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.

“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.

“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.

“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”

Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.

When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.

“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.

“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.

“You planned this for me?”

“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.

“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.

“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.

“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”

“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.

“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.

“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.

“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.

“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.

“I do like you.” He said quietly.

“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”

“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.

“You like this.” You told him.

“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.

“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.

“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.

“Why were you in Sephora?”

“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”

“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.

“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”

“I love those.”

“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.

“Very impressive selection.”

“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”

“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”

“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.

“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.

“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”

“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”

“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.

“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“

You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.

“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.

“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.

“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.

“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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kastalani123 · 3 months

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Mmmmmmmm, but what if Estelle grows up without knowing about the Greek myths being real?

What if Sally and Paul look at Percy, who's hesitant to hold his baby sister for fear of drowning her with blood-drenched hands, who eventually holds her like she's made of glass because the Destroyer is afraid of breaking her, who shoves his face into his pillow to keep his nightmares from waking her up–

What if Sally and Paul look at Percy, seventeen years old with the world resting on his shoulders since he was twelve, and ask, "Do you want her to know?"

And he wonders. He thought it'd be a given, that she'd grow up surrounded by monsters and magic, that he'd make fish made of water swim around her to make her laugh, that there would be no secrets as to his life's horror.

But he wonders. He thinks that, maybe, she won't have to grow up afraid of her own shadow. She's mortal, after all. There is no ichor in her veins. There is no guarantee she will be Clear Sighted.

There is no reason she can't live a normal life.

There is no reason she has to be woven into the Fates' tapestry beyond the barest of mentions.

He wonders, and he decides no. No, this one person, this little bundle of giggles, this reason that motivates him to learn healthy coping mechanisms, this little sister of his — she will not be forced to grow up so fast. She will not hesitate making plans for her future in fear of never making it that far. She will not suffer scars from things other than risky bike tricks and tumbling down a hill.

This one person that he can protect, for once in his life. This one person that he will protect, from both of his worlds.

Oh, it's not that she doesn't know anything. He makes sure she knows as many myths as possible, as many ways to protect herself as she can learn, as many people and places that can help her if she ever needs it. She grows up with bedtime stories about winged horses and giant dogs and a number of human-animal hybrids. She dreams of a brother with a scarred lip and a girl who loves too much and a sister who usually thinks of her sibling before herself and a boy who can tame dragons, and sometimes it's like her dreams are real, like she actually knows the characters from her brother's stories. She learns to recognize unfairness and abuse, to stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves, to make things right even if she has to force unwilling hands to do what she wants with trickery.

She knows so much.

But she never climbs a wall flowing with lava. But she never picks up a sword and dons a set of armor. But she never learns her loved ones' scars don't come from unfortunate accidents. But she never flies through the sky on helpful wings. But she never dives into the depths of the ocean in a bubble of air. But she never gets lost in a house that's always changing its layout to suit its occupants' needs. But she never watches her home in ruin. But she never runs from an inferno consuming the world around her. But she never cradles a friend's body as the life drains from their eyes.

But she never stops being an ordinary mortal.

#pjo #rick riordan #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjoverse #pjo spoilers #percy jackson #percy pjo #sally jackson #paul blofis #estelle blofis #pjo series

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chxrryhansen · 3 months

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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans Series Rec List

thought i’d make a list of all the best cevans (characters) series i have read!! i have lots more to add and will continue to update this list🫶🏻 i will also create a one shot fic rec list in the near future💖💘💞

Preying On You Tonight - @evansbby

“Steve is the cocky, brash and domineering alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every day. You’re the complete opposite - quiet, meek and reserved. You’re convinced Steve hates you, but what happens when he finds out you have a boyfriend? (a/b/o dynamics)”

Wicked Games - @evansbby

Ari is the campus fuckboy and you’re his little plaything. But he’s telling the truth when he says he’s going to make you his girlfriend soon, right?

What A World - @onsunnyside

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that. [tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader, nomad!steve, size difference]

Just Because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

Closer To Heaven And Closer To You - @georgiapeach30513

When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure. Knowing that a rodeo is in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers. All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Just Like The Caged Bird - @georgiapeach30513

You are a widow who moves back to her husband's hometown after selling your in Georgia home. Moving in above your brother in law's garage. Sharing the space with his friend Bucky Barnes, but your other brother-in-law Andy causes problems, along with your overprotective brothers.

Pretty Petals - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems. (multi-character)

His Koala Bear - @kinanabinks

you and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it's getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it.

Belong Here - @angrythingstarlight

Steve has been looking for his perfect girl and suddenly there you are stuck in this dingy restaurant. You don't belong here, you belong with him.

Finding Home - @navybrat817

Steve finds a home with you. (lumberjack Au)

Their Doll - @kaiparker-avengerssmut

y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

No Better Than Beast’s - @lokislastlove

You’re an animal rights activist who sets out to put an end to animal testing… but it’s a risky mission. (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Doppelgänger - @boxofbonesfic

Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale + Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Million Dollar Man - @chrisevansgoodgirl

your relationship with ransom and his insane family.

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart - @spacesnail3000

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Let It Snow - @spacesnail3000

She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Sweet Renegade - @cevansbrat0007

A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

Evergreen, Evermore - @babyjakes

loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd and Y/N have been amicably(ish) divorced for four years. However, when earth shattering trauma come their way, will they lean into what they truly want, or will the flames from past traumas still burn too bright?

Civil war- Brooklyn - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ten years ago the Readers world was turned upside down when her father was killed by Hydras Brock Rumlow. She believes the loves of her life Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes were also killed while trying to avenge her fathers death. Reader is now working for the FBI on a task force that is meant to take down Hydra. She volunteers to go undercover to take down Hydra. In doing so she not only puts herself in the cross hairs with Rumlow but she gets to meet the mystery men causing Hydra issues. Who are the Captain and Winter Soldier? What lengths will you go through to uncover the truth and seek revenge?

The Boston Brute - @time-for-a-lullaby

When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

Planet Evans Universe - @astranva

In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress, you, at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party. (Following the life of overprotective!dad!Chris x wife!actress!reader!)

Don’t Speak - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Dark!Andy Barber)

Cat and Mouse - @queen-of-the-avengers

You’re called the Vixen because you were HYDRA’s favorite creation. You’re very hard to catch, and once you are, it’s even harder to keep you.

Let’s Ride - @starryevermore

You’re a single mom and have just moved into a new town. You have no interest in looking for love, but the funny thing about love is, it waits for no one. (Biker!Ari Levinson)

Out Of The Darkness - @sunshinexsin

Sienna Jons has lived in Boston for three years now after graduating and is running her own salon in the city. With a small group of friends sticking by her side, she's content with her life. Enter Chris Evans, a known and feared mob boss in Boston’s underground crime world. Coming out of a long relationship ended in a bitter divorce, Chris isn’t looking for anything serious until Sienna crosses his path. Trying to win her over proves difficult for the man who seemingly has it all and Sienna is not willing to be with someone who causes such destruction in his own hometown. Sienna soon finds herself entangled in the crazy, violent world of the mob and struggles to find a way to either live with the hardened man Chris has always been or get away from him before her own life spirals out of control.

Murder He Wrote - @wiypt-writes

You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale)

Poison Paradise - @the-iceni-bitch

Robert Pronge was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

A Bun In The Oven - @witchywithwhiskey

the leaves are changing—green fading into golden yellow, burnt orange and radiant red—and the days are getting shorter and colder as autumn settles in. it's the perfect time of year for baked goods, fall foliage, book stores, and to curl up next to (and get under) our favorite man with a plan, steve rogers

Wilford’s Demands - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Wilford places you in Curtis’ care so he can impregnate you.

In The Balance - @goodgirlofglory

One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Drowning Siren - @rogerswifesblog

The Avengers found an old abandoned HYDRA base, that had been cleared after HYDRAs existence had been exposed. At least they thought it was cleared. It was the biggest experimental lab they had ever seen, the closest base to the ocean, full with creatures-dead creatures. Some of them laid still on tables, stripped with metal cuffs, open and already rotting. It was an awful smell. But then they heard something beautiful. A melody, a beautiful voice singing unbelievably gentle sounds. Walking into the building full with ocean creatures, they had no idea their life was about to change.

Vampire Kings Religion - @marvelcriminalhoe

In a world where fantasy beings roam every corner, the humans are on the bottom. Looked at as weak and disgraceful. The vampires are the opposite. They rule the land, and all of the creatures that take part of it. the current ruler, King Steven, has ruled for more than 150 years, alone. After many nights, and long talks with his most trusted hands, he comes to the long awaited decision that he will finally, take a wife. All female creatures, are to be evaluated, so he can find his perfect match. Of course, no one expects for him to choose a human. Especially not one from the church. Especially not the daughter, of the leader, of the church. The same church that detests the mythical creatures, wishing for nothing more than for them to perish in fire. How could this union possibly end well?

Ride And Prejudice - @pagesoflauren

A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job.

Love On The Brain - @howardpotts

You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer? (MobBoss!Steve Rogers)

Flamingo King - @onsunnyside

The sun is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole damn city?

Make It A December To Remember - @imyourbratzdoll

AGE AND SIZE DIFFERENCE IS ADDED TO ALL! SANTA AND THE GRINCH ARE LARGER THAN THE READER! THE ELVES ARE THE SIZE OF HER PALM! (a chris evans xmas universe)

This Love Is Bad - @wildestdreamsblog

You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Nowhere To Run - @sagechanoafterdark

On the last day that Steve spent in your small town before heading off to basic training for the army, he made sure it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. Years later when he appears in your town he seems like a changed man in more ways than one, but you’re ready to show him that you’ve never forgotten that day. (Dark!Steve Rogers+ Bucky Barnes)

Nice To Be Kneaded - @rogersideup

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Forever And Ever More - @syntheticavenger

Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha who has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not.

Hackers Heart - @bakugousaysdie

steve rogers has always been america’s golden boy, leading earth’s mightiest heroes and serving his country. you have always been bad with boundaries, a little too curious, and an absolute disruption. you are an absolute menace,so it’s only right you fell in love with the most adored man in the country.

Arranged - @time-for-a-lullaby

Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

#chxrrys fic recs #chxrrys masterlist #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #ransom drysdale #lloyd hansen #andy barber #ari levinson #chris evans fic recs #steve rogers fic recs

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oliwrites · 7 months

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Eavesdrop

relationship: loki x fem!reader

genre: smut

summary: loki cant help but overhear your conversation with natasha

warnings: smut (18+) unprotected piv, fingering, thigh riding, squirting, soft dom loki??, multiple orgasms, loki being nosy

“I dunno, Nat… I love him to death, I really do… it’s just…” You say as you run your fingers through your hair. You didn’t like the idea of talking ‘bad’ about Loki behind his back, but this is the only way to get the emotions and thoughts off your chest.

“What is it? Stop beating around the bush! C’mon, I’m good at keeping secrets” Natasha replied, sipping on her beer.

“It’s kind of TMI but—”

“Oh please, TMI is nothing in this friendship and you know it, just spit it out!”

“Well… when Loki and I get… y’know… everything starts out great, but he just gets all soft and vanilla-y and I just wanna—” You start to explain, but stop when what you really want to say gets caught in the back of your throat.

What you and Natasha didn’t know is that Loki had walked out of the bedroom. His ears perked when he heard you say his name, so he walked towards Natasha’s room and listened in.

“Go on…” Natasha said

“Well… when we get frisky… he gets all soft and shit… like all mushy and gushy. Don’t get me wrong, I love it when he’s sweet to me… but I really just wanna be fucked. Not ‘made love to’ but ‘fucked so hard I can’t walk’ y’know?” I explain, a feeling of guilt washing over me as I finally say it.

“Have you tried bringing it up to him?”

“No… I want to, but I just don’t know how or when”

Loki frowned. Was he really boring you that much? You seemed pretty into it when the two of you were in action.

“I mean, when Bruce and I first started out, he was all mushy and stuff, all up until I sat him down in his bedroom and just told him how I felt. Ever since he’s pretty much been Hulk smashing me,” Natasha explained. I roll my eyes at her ‘Hulk smash’ comment

“What if I hurt his feelings?”

“He literally terrorized the city of New York and Stüggart, killed 80 people in 2 days, almost killed the entirety of the Frost Giant race, and faked his death 2 times. I don’t think he’ll be offended. Honestly, he might be more offended if you don’t tell him,” Natasha explained.

“But—”

“No buts, you’re literally the love of his life, and he would probably do anything to make you happy. Just trust me, babe, Loki isn’t going to be offended or mad, just communicate,” Natasha cut you off

Loki agreed silently. Natasha was right. He wasn’t offended or upset. He would climb the highest mountains and cut through every forest just go make you happy, if you asked. He decided to gather a plan, and he walked back into his room.

“You’re right. Thank you, Nat,” I smile and start to stand up, grabbing my beer bottle, and taking another drink of it, “I’m gonna go talk to him about it,” you smile, trying to ignore the anxiety bubbling within your stomach.

“I would say tell me how it goes, but I’m sure I’ll be able to tell if you have a limp tomorrow or not,” Nat snorted, you flipped her off playfully and started to walk out of the room.

When you entered the hallway, you heard your phone buzz. You took it out of your pocket and saw a text from Loki.

Loki: come visit me if you can, my little dove

You smile at his text. The nickname “little dove” always made your heart flutter. You pocket your phone and walk towards Loki’s room. You don’t even bother knocking, considering he was expecting you.

What you weren’t expecting was Loki to practically jump you the second you walked in.

He closed the door and pressed you firmly against it, kissing you hungrily as he groped your breasts without care. It took you by surprise, but you quickly melted into the kiss, kissing him back just as roughly.

Your guys’ tongue and teeth clashed together as he guided you to his bed, pushing you down onto it, before removing his shirt, and hastily removing your sweatpants and tossing them to the side. Before he flipped you over, setting you on his thigh

“Ride me.” He commanded, leaving no room for discussion. You blush and move your hand to the string of his sweatpants, “Not there,” he said simply.

You blush before experimentally rubbing your panty-clad cunt against his thigh. You let out a shaky moan at the new feeling. Loki growled before he started bouncing his leg. You let out a surprised, but aroused shriek, stopping the movement of your hips.

You let out another shriek when you felt his hand come down harshly on your ass.

“Did I say you could stop?” He asked in a serious tone. You shake your head no, “then keep going,” He said simply, before he started to bounce his leg again.

You continue to grind down on him as he bounce his leg. The feeling of cotton against your clit had you almost screaming as you continued to buck down against his thigh.

“Loki, I—” You started, before you cut yourself off with another moan.

“Soak me,” He said, grabbing your hips and pushing you down harder against his thigh.

Your whole body quivered as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your ears started to ring as you soaked his thigh completely, your juices squirting all over him.

He gave you no time to recover before he flipped you over and ripped your panties off and shoving two fingers inside of you, going at a rapid pace.

“Oh gods, Loki!” You screamed out, arching your back off the bed as his fingers drilled into you.

“You wanted to be fucked, hm? Oh I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow…” He said huskily, before going down and attaching his lips to your clit, sucking it harshly.

His words did not process in your mind, instead you screamed out his name and tangled your fingers into his hair.

He curled his fingers at just the right spot and you came again, soaking his face, fingers, and the bedsheets below you as your arousal sprayed out of you once again.

Loki stood up and took off his sweatpants and boxer before flipping you over so your ass is in the air. Without warning he plunged into you, fucking you at a breakneck pace.

“Is this what you wanted, hm? You wanted to be fucked? Treated like a toy?” Loki growled, before slapping your ass harshly as he continued to drill into your abused hole.

“Yes! Fuck, Loki!” You screamed out, grinding back into his hips, meeting each of his thrusts. The words he said remained incoherent, as, lack for better words, he fucked your brains out.

He grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged it back, using it as leverage to fuck you even deeper. You gripped onto the bedsheets for dear life as he pummeled you with his cock.

He grunted as he felt his orgasm approaching, he reached forward, circling your clit at a rapid pace, causing you to scream out his name.

Your orgasm was approaching quickly as he fucked you swiftly. You tried to warn him, but were caught off by your orgasm as if ripped through your body.

You screamed out in sheer pleasure as you came on his cock. Your orgasm triggered his and he thrusted as deep as he could, spilling his seed deep inside of your quim.

He laid down next to you and looked at you with pure love in his eyes. You adjusted and laid down as well, looking at him.

“I actually wanted to talk—” You started, before being cut off by Loki

“You wanted to be fucked, not made love to… I overheard you and the Black Widow talking,” Loki said with a smile, “I hope I was able to fulfill your dreams,”

“Mmm… maybe another round or so could really fulfill my dreams” You smirked before crawling on top of Loki, starting yet another round

~ The Next Morning ~

You woke up in Loki’s bed, with Loki still sleeping peacefully next to you. You smile and decide to get up and head out to the kitchen for coffee.

You walked down the hallway into the Avengers common area where Natasha sat, drinking her own coffee. Natasha laughed at your limp as you hobbled over to the kitchen

“Oh shut the fuck up”

—

hayyy sorry for not posting in foreverrrr but i got bombarded with school, work, and family issues, and i haven’t really had the time to write something (even something small) and i also have officially hit a good ‘ol writers block!! if you have any requests please lmk and i will write them!!!

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #mcu loki #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki smut #loki god of mischief #loki x reader smut

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viiiiiiiiiin · 2 months

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How they confess their feelings to you !! (PT. 1)

Includes: Luffy , Zoro , Usopp , Sanji , Nami , Robin , Franky , Brook , Jinbe.

Pt. 1 (Here) , Pt. 2 , Pt. 3

Masterlist

Strawhat: Monkey D. Luffy

He didn't understand that he was in love with you. He thought he just really liked you as a best friend.

He's never been in a relationship. He hasn't thought of being in one once. He's focused on making his dreams come true , along with his crewmates. And you , of course.

He brought this up to Robin and asked for some advice. When she told gim that he was , indeed , in love with you , he didn't know how to continue.

Did he want a relationship ? Did he want to risk your life ? Did you even want to be in a relationship with you ?

He ended up accidently avoiding you while pondering his decision. He didn't realize how much it hurt you until you confronted him.

He finally nonchalantly asked you to be his significant other while eating , shocking the entire crew (and you).

While everyone stopped eating , screamed in shock , or stared at you (or him) , you just stared.

Eventually , you smiled and accepted his confession.

Pirate Hunter: Roronoa Zoro

Like his captain , he didn't understand that he was in love with you. He didn't understand why he wanted to share sake with you , workout with you , and sit next to you everytime you guys ate. He didn't understand why his heart fluttered when he was around you.

He assumed it was because he found you to be better company than the rest of the crew.

But he got worried once his heart started skipping beats and he'd get red around you. He brought his concern up to Chopper , who laughed and explained that he was in love with you.

He was shocked. He didn't even think he could love , honestly.

He started avoiding you in hopes that his feelings would drift away.

But they didn't.

In fact , he became more infatuated and it infuriated him.

He finally confronted you about it when you came to visit him while he was working out. He told you everything he had been feeling , angrily at that , and felt flustered afterwards. He didn't mean to share all of that.

You laughed and told you felt the same way. That was the day you two agreed to be in a relationship.

God: Usopp

Absolute train wreck. He realized he caught feelings for you pretty quick. He's conflicted because of his past relationship with Kaya.

He thinks you won't like a coward like him , so he tries to wait it out.

He tells Nami about it and asks her for some advice. (He pays her to keep it a secret).

She gives him advice. She tells him to try for you , that you don't see him as a coward. You'd love him either way. He didn't believe her , obviously. Why would someone as strong and as stunning as you go for a wimp like him ?

But , he remembered. He's gonna be a brave warrior of the sea one day , like the Giants. Confessing his love to you , in his eyes , got him a step closer to being braver.

Eventually , he picks some flowers from the garden to make a bouquet. He hands it to you while sputtering about how he loves you and wants you to be his significant other (his face is COMPLETELY) red.

When you say yes , his face lights up. He didn't realize how much anxiety this had given him until you relieved him.

He immediately squeezed you and laughed.

Blackleg: Vinsmoke Sanji

He didn't understand why he wanted to make you smile more than Robin or Nami. Male , female , nonbinary , whatever. He found himself drifting over to you no matter the circumstance.

He'd always find a way to have you in the kitchen with him , or just around him. He'd always volunteer to go with you on islands , take you shopping , etc.

Nami and Robin noticed how he paid more attention to you compared to them.

They decided to play wingwomen.

They started "accidently" leaving you two alone together. They would also talk to each of you about the other to see how you two felt about one another.

Then they would go to each other and tell the other what they found out.

Eventually , they took everyone's dinner out of the kitchen and left your plate and Sanji's plate.

Sanji sat there with you , flustered and quiet. Eventually , he blurted out that he loved you and wanted to be with you. Once he realized what he said , he was embarrassed.

But to his surprise , you told him you felt the same !

Devil's Child: Nico Robin

She realized immediately and wasn't shy about expressing how she felt about you.

She watched you from afar , observing stuff that you enjoy to do and stuff you like.

When she figured that she gathered enough knowledge , she put her plan to work.

She asked Sanji to set up your dinner and her dinner in a seperate room with a candle and a rose.

He complied without question.

She led you into the room and ate dinner with you.

When the 'date' was ended , she confessed her love for you bluntly.

It made you red , but you told her you felt the same (to her amusement).

Cyborg: Franky

He also immediately realized he was in love with you. Instead of telling you , he began showing acts of "kindness".

He would give you little trinkets , always show you his inventions first , make you new weapons , and so much more.

Robin noticed. She brought it up to him and turned him SUPERRR red.

She laughed and told him to just tell you.

He did. He listened to her. While showing you a new invention , he confessed his love for you.

When you accepted , he was surprised but laughed. He patted your back and embraced you.

He has your anniversary date engraved in General Franky . . .

Soul King: Brook

Like Robin , he realized immediately and wasn't shy at all. In fact , you didn't even realize.

Even if you were biologically male , he would still ask to see your undergarments. Even if you said no , he would laugh and play you a tune.

He would always being his new songs to you first. He even accidently wrote a love song while thinking of you.

He still showed it to you. He thought you wouldn't notice it was about you , but you did.

You asked him , and he stared at you in shock. Ashamed , he confessed that it was about you.

To his surprise , you told him you felt the same. You found his advances adorable !

He was ecstatic ! He even asked to see your underwear right after lol.

First Son of the Sea: Jinbe

He denied his feelings at first but soon came to accept them.

He was extremely nervous about it. He would always turn pink around you and stumble over his words.

He's a man of honor , so he confessed to you anyways.

It happened whenever you guys docked st an island. He found a fancy restaurant and booked a reservation for the both of you. He asked you to accompany him and you agreed.

He brought flowers and dressed in his best outfit for you. When you came , he handed you the flowers and brought you to the table.

After dinner , he confessed his love for you. He couldn't make eye contact with you. He was just terrified about you saying no because he's a Fishman.

But you didn't. You said you felt the same way. His heart soared and he smiled widely.

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 1 month

Note

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

#star-mum #my lovely moots #requests #requested #sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus sized reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #dc titans #titans #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

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florencemtrash · 4 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Five

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: Gore, violence, some angst

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Meryl struggled forward, trying to keep from tripping on his floor-length robes. A head of ivory hair trailed out after him at a leisurely pace. A blood red hand at her side gripped a slick shortsword. The blade mimicked the cruel curve of her horns.

You remembered her from the party.

Teal silk and blood and the lake.

Koschei.

His hand dove into the folds of his robe, withdrawing a dull knife. You caught her smile before she dodged Meryl’s swift kick, sword arching down in a swing that cut cleanly through his back leg.

You didn’t stay to watch the second swing that nearly separated Meryl’s head from his shoulders. The street was still eerily silent.

Meryl hadn’t gotten the chance to raise the alarms.

You ran to the other side of your apartment, knocking one of the windows open. The smell of smoke, acrid and bitter, flooded your nose. Your stomach turned, nearly emptying itself of your dinner.

A blanket of haze covered the bottom floor, the flickering of flames beginning to lick up the outer edges of the massive room.

The Alcove - your home - was on fire.

Your apartment was built separately from The Alcove with no direct path linking the two together. Normally you would simply walk down the stairs and enter through one of The Alcove’s main entrances with its hand-carved archways and stone pegasuses. But with the murderous female lurking outside, that was simply not an option.

You pulled the neck of your sweater up and over the lower half of your face, ignoring the stinging of your eyes. You steeled your nerves and slid your foot out, finding purchase on the decorative molding that lined the walls. Many times you’d thought about scaling the walls instead of trekking down dozens of flights of stairs. You’d never actually done it.

The soft skin of your palms protested as you shimmied your way down and then jumped the last ten feet onto the walkway. There was no grace in your movements, and no time to dwell on the rough landing before you began flying down the stairs, begging the Mother and Meryl to give you time to cross the expanse of the library.

Meryl’s apartment lay on the opposite side of The Alcove on the first floor, and unlike your apartment, had a door leading directly to the stacks. The white rune, carved into Meryl’s door, stared at you like the eye of a god.

Some vague myths about ancient giants crossed your mind. They’d been worshiped in these lands before the rise of the High Lords with brains so vast you could climb in through their ears and walk amongst the grooves like a child in a corn maze. You felt like that child now, the familiar turns and patterns of the atheneum slipping away into mist.

You had no patience to walk the last flights of stairs. You threw yourself off the lower walkway, ankle twisted painfully beneath you as you crumpled onto the floor.

Just make it to the door. Just make it to the door.

The first duty of a Librarian was to save the atheneum. Always.

Again that white rune stared at you from across the floor, winking with the flashes of firelight as the flames gorged themselves on book pages.

Save the Alcove.

You ignored the pain in your leg, running towards the door with gritted teeth. Three bodies littered the floor, blood blossoming around colorful robes like roses in springtime.

Save the Alcove.

You wrenched the knife from the sliver in the wall, slicing your palm open with a sharp intake of breath. Warm blood spilled out, dripping onto the floor and then down the wall as you pressed your palm against the rune, muttering the words all Librarians knew by heart - words that would seal The Alcove from the outside world and draw all oxygen from within.

“Beali tchnemonon aschzernai belar-” The rune began to glow, rivers of white light tracing the carving on the door. The doors began to groan as threads of magic shot outward, weaving through the stone and preparing to seal it shut.

“Stop. Say nothing.” A voice said, soft as velvet and hard as scales.

Your tongue froze up, the rune dimming as teeth sank into the soft flesh of your mind and began to tear through your mental shields.

___________

Azriel chewed carefully, washing down the meat with a swig of sweet wine. All throughout dinner Helion had been glowering at him, one hand gripping the golden hilt of his steak knife like he was prepared to aim it between Azriel’s eyes.

“Did you spend the whole day with her?” Feyre had asked him when he’d finally arrived for dinner twenty minutes late.

Everyone else was dressed in their court attire. Even Cassian had changed out of his leathers and was currently pulling at the high collar of his shirt. But not Azriel. He’d arrived late in plain clothes, hair disheveled and face impassive. He gave a nod in response to Feyre’s silent question before settling down beside Cassian. His brother threw him a knowing wink.

Rhysand looked pleased with himself. Feyre looked pleased. Everyone was pleased… everyone but Helion.

“Finally! The Shadowsinger arrives!” The comment rolled off his tongue and fell flat, “Now we can eat.”

“I apologize, Helion. I lost track of time.” Azriel said truthfully. He had lost track of time. He wished he’d lost track of it for longer. Then he might still be in your living room, dreaming about kissing you.

Dinner was a business affair. Theories about Koschei’s next plans punctuated by the appearance of roasted chestnuts, soft-boiled quail eggs, honey rolls, and stuffed duck on the table.

“He can’t escape the lake.” Rhysand said, “Though the gods know he’s trying.”

“He can’t escape yet.” Helion countered, brows furrowed in concern, “There’s a piece we’re missing to this.”

“The Cauldron.” Feyre ran a lazy finger over the lip of her wineglass to disguise the unease settling in her stomach, “He’s searching for it.” She tilted her head towards Azriel, “Az found evidence that some of Koschei’s followers have been breaking into the temples further up north.”

Helion shook his head, “It wouldn’t do them any good to search an old hiding place. And it’s not like the legs of the Cauldron are with the priestesses anymore. They must be looking for something else.”

“What else is in the temples except old books and ceremonial artifacts?” Cassian asked.

“Old books can sometimes be the most powerful objects in the world.” Helion said with a small smirk, “I wouldn’t look down on them so much.”

“Tell that to a sword.”

“Tell that to a two-thousand page text thrown at your head.”

Cassian grinned, “I would dodge it. Easy.”

“With that inflated head of yours, I’d hardly be able to miss.”

Azriel smiled inwardly. That sounded like something you might say. Not even four hours since he’d last seen you and he was missing your gentle smile, the crease in your brows when you read, the occasional jangle of your bracelets when you shook out the cramps in your wrist.

Feyre thought long and hard, staring at the surface of her wine like the answers might materialize there. She couldn’t get her mind off the Cauldron. The most important events that had taken place in the last fifty years could be tied back to its magic. The magic that currently flooded through Nesta and Elain’s veins.

With its power anything seemed possible - even separating a deity like Koschei from the lake where he’d been confined for centuries.

“What if they’re not looking for the Cauldron itself?” Everyone looked at her, waiting to hear the High Lady’s next words. “What if they’re just looking for something tied to it?”

Cassian dropped his knife to the table with a clang.

“Nesta.” He breathed. He immediately reached out across the bond, feeling Nesta stir on the other side. She was still safe in Velaris, although he pitied any poor soul that tried to go after her.

“Or Elain.” Feyre continued.

It’s no secret they were Made. They wouldn’t need to break into a temple to figure that out or to find out where they’re staying. Rhysand sent his bonds down the bond, one hand reaching out to rub her thigh.

Nesta and Elain could handle themselves, but that didn’t mean Feyre could shed the protective nature she’d developed through her formative human years.

Who else then? Who else has taken power from the Cauldron?

Jurian.

He’s human. He has no magic that Koschei could want. And the human queen has been long dead too.

Helion glanced at Cassian who only waved him off. Rhys and Feyre did this often - getting lost in their private conversations and only sharing their thoughts at the very end.

Meanwhile, Azriel was having his own private thoughts.

Immunity, the innate biological process of recognizing and protecting against foreign entities, is a phenomenon that can be extended and applied to magic.

“How does it apply to mating bonds?” Azriel asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room.

The fire crackled steadily, warming your back as you sat hunched over a volume titled “An Exegesis on the Works of Bhenaui The Stone Giant”.

“Hmmm?” You mumbled.

He pointed to the last page of your paper where an introductory sentence on mating bonds had ended abruptly.

“You didn’t finish your thought.”

“Well, that’s because I’m not completely sure what my thoughts are… at least not yet.”

“Would you tell me your thoughts? Even if you’re not sure?”

You motioned for him to hand it over, the papers floating over to you on a phantom hand made of shadows. You flipped through the pages absentmindedly, your previous thoughts coming to mind as you held your work.

“Parents, children, siblings - they all tend to have similar forms of magic. Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Azriel nodded. He’d already read that section of your paper. Although the thought of sharing some magical connection with his half-brothers and father made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny your logic.

“I always thought that mating bonds must be some special extension of that. Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

“Like the difference between two sets of keys, versus a key and a lock.”

“Maybe? I suppose that’s not a terrible analogy to make, but I’m not sure.” You shot him a smile, “You’re beginning to think like a Librarian, Azriel.”

His heart sang in his chest, shadows flurrying around him. You’d quickly learned that his shadows gave away more than his face ever would.

“What an insult to Librarians.” He quipped.

You snorted and shook your head, tossing a pen at his head. He caught it easily, just as you knew he would.

A faint flutter of panic grew in the background of his mind, unprompted and unexpected. He pushed it to the side, focusing his attention back on what you’d told him back at your apartment.

“Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Koschei had been brother to The Weaver and The Bone Carver - both dead after centuries, if not more, of confinement to The Prison and The Cottage. It didn’t make sense for him to be searching for them. Perhaps he wanted the Cauldron to bring them back from the dead, but even that seemed like the stretch. Koschei didn’t strike Azriel as the kind of being to care for the safety and life of his siblings.

If Azriel were in Koschei’s position, he wouldn’t be after the Cauldron. Not necessarily. The thing he’d really be dying to know was who had separated him from his power, and how.

“Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

Like a lock and a key.

“Uh… Azriel?” Cassian gently grabbed Azriel’s shoulder, shaking him.

Inky shadows climbed up his hand, the light of his red siphons swallowed up by the darkness that had begun to pour off of Azriel.

That panic was steadily growing into something he couldn’t ignore and he couldn’t stop thinking of you. You with your brilliant ideas and a theory that he still couldn’t quite grasp, like he was trying to hold salt water in his hands.

“Something-something feels wrong.” Azriel gasped out, a scarred hand clutching at his chest. “Cass, something’s not right. Something’s not right.” He repeated the words until he finally recognized what was wrong.

It wasn’t his panic that he was feeling. It was yours.

___________

You screamed, thrashing about on the floor as you gripped your head between your hands.

Get out. Get out. Get out.

You pulled at your hair, slapped your skull like that would be what it took for the female to relinquish her hold on your mind.

She was buried inside like a parasite - a virus slowly taking over the cellular machinery, copying it all down as she rifled through your memories as easily as a picture book.

You shrank away from her as she lingered on one memory in particular.

It was your fortieth birthday, although you didn’t look any older than eight. Helion sat on the floor, long legs extending beyond the cramped space between the fireplace and the couch. It was a small apartment you shared with your mother with its pale green walls and yellow daisy curtains.

He filled every inch of it with light. His smile was so dazzling you thought he must have been one of the fairytale knights you’d spent every night obsessing over. He certainly played the part, gifting you a wooden pegasus with wings that hovered a foot above the ground when you asked it to.

“You can’t keep doing this, Helion.” You’d stayed hidden at the top of the stairs, your pegasus nuzzling into your side and then going still.

“She’s my daughter, Leda. What am I meant to do?”

“You’re meant to leave us alone.”

“Leda-”

“She’s growing too slowly. You saw her today, she should be fully grown by now.”

“...I know.”

“If anyone finds out who she is… the power she possesses. Mother help us…”

“I know. I’m-I’m sorry, Leda.”

“You can’t keep doing this.”

That was the last childhood memory you’d had of him, and when the pegasus’s magic had worn off, leaving him stiff and immoble, the novelty of having a knight for a father had worn off too.

You were crying now, tears streaming down your ash-stained cheeks as the female above you clicked her forked tongue. Her eyes were two chips of moonstone split by wide, rectangular pupils.

“A High Lord’s bastard.” She sang with pleasure. “How fun.” She leaned down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking it up so forcefully you had to bite your tongue to keep from screaming. “No. No.” She clicked her tongue in disappointment, “Don’t stop. I want to hear you scream. Scream.”

With a roar of anger you latched onto her arm, immediately feeling a flood of memories and emotion pour into your mind.

Sick, twisted satisfaction. Pleasure. Meryl’s decapitated body hastily hidden behind a pillar. When she’d gone down into the lower levels of The Alcove, searching for the diary, she hadn’t expected to see him there. Hadn’t expected him to give her a hard time. Hadn’t expected him to fight back.

The three other fae, slaughtered in haste. Koschei would not be pleased. He would not let her join him on the lake. But she had the book. She had the book.

The female hissed, the disorienting motion of being in your mind while you were in hers causing panic. She’d been trained to keep others out of her mind. She’d endured far more training than you had. So why couldn’t she kick you out?

More memories. More emotions. Rising fear. You soothed it using the training she’d received. She wasn’t the virus. You were. You felt all her memories. The terrible aftermath of war on the continent. The feeling of being burned alive.

The female was trying to break away from you now, but you wouldn’t let her, not even as the smoke grew so thick it clogged your lungs. You felt her memories as if they were your own, and so long as she was in your mind, she was forced to experience it all as well.

His power is beneath the lake. Trapped. Buried. He can’t leave his soul behind. Can’t diminish himself any further. He can’t leave the lake.

Koschei.

The lake. What’s buried beneath the lake?

Andrian. ANDRIAN!!!

Get the key. Get the key. Get the key.

The scream of her brother’s voice as Koschei splits his head in two.

When your eyes burst open they’re so bright the female turns her face away, sobbing. Your blood soaked hand searches the floor for the knife you dropped, the knife you can see is less than a foot away. But you’re not looking at it. She is.

She registers what you plan to do. Every thought of hers reflected in your mind like a ghostly afterimage. But it’s too late.

You grip the knife in your hand.

Slam it through her eye and out the back of her skull.

It’s a strange feeling to be in someone’s mind when they die. To feel like it’s your body slowly fading from existence with one final breath.

The female’s body slumps motionless over yours, and her final memories of her brother play out one last time.

…Then it’s just silence and the crackling of the ever approaching flames.

When Azriel reaches The Alcove, the windows have all burst, angry tongues of fire licking the sky and gasping for breath.

“Y/N!” Azriel roars, shooting off towards the door so hard the cobblestones crack beneath his feet. “Y/N!”

White lights begin to splinter up the stone walls, filling invisible cracks that begin to take the shape of ancient runes. Swirls, symbols, repeating lines trace their way over the windows, sealing them shut as the flames start to hiss in protest, eating up the oxygen faster than they can draw breath.

The door has been blown apart, the inside of The Alcove nothing more than a hurricane of ash and smoke. But when Azriel reaches them, he slams into an impenetrable wall of magic.

“NO!” He crashes against the barrier. Light scatters outward, but holds against the shadows that burst forth from Azriel’s body. Power explodes from his siphons, but still the magic holds.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He flies up to the windows and tries again to no avail.

The bond is still there, burning away in his chest with a passion.

He will not lose you. Not like this. Not today.

He touches back down on the ground, legs braced on the street as blue light begins to wrap around his chest and arms. His shadows mix in with them like ink in a tumultuous sea.

He’s about to let his power flood out when he sees it - two dim pinpricks of light that pass through the barrier as easily as sparrows diving through the air.

You’re nothing more than a gray shadow, your knees and hands coated in a mixture of ash and blood, as you emerge from the roaring flames. Your eyes gleam a pale yellow, seeing and unseeing at the same time. You make it to the front steps and when you stumble, Azriel is there to catch you, one arm looping around your waist and you’re immediately thrust into another memory.

It’s dark and cold in the cellar. So dark that even after two days the most Azriel can do to prove he still exists is to slap his legs, then his arms, then his face. Then he knows he’s still alive. It’s the pain that helps him remember.

“Y/n. Y/n. I need you to look at me.” Your eyes are unfocused, still glowing as Azriel helps you walk forward, one hand clasping yours close to his chest. “Y/n. Y/n. Please. Darling, please.”

His mother sings to him, a gentle, sweet melody that’s filled with more sorrow than words. His hands are heavy with gauze and ointment, the lingering pain magnifying and shooting through his small body whenever he moves them to touch his mother’s face or to wrap his arms around her neck.

But this is the only hour he’ll get with her this week. So he ignores the pain. He savors only the feeling of his mother’s arms around his weak back and the song she sings, hanging onto every word and committing them to memory.

You’re vaguely aware of Helion’s deep voice shouting your name. When he touches you, you can feel his relief as acutely as the rumble of thunder before rain. The emotion rolls over you, calming your heart.

For a brief moment you’re still the little girl he placed on top of the pegasus on your fortieth birthday. For a brief moment your mother is still alive, suppressing the smile on her lips as she watches the creature wobble to life, shake its wings, and begin to fly.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

We're getting into the action/plot now folks! Hold on tight because I have IDEAS! It's going to take time for me to explain it all in the story, but I promise you I have a plan

Taglist: @rosebunnysblog @icey--stars @laceandsuch @coralseacourt @cherryinsalemverse @flowerprincezz @valeridarkness @annaaaaa88 @deeshag @bluesiphonsbaby @allyjoe755 @sidthedollface2 @auggiesolovey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @transparentmoonglitter @ang-taylorsversion @ssmay123 @just-m-2 @sevikas-whore @lalalucha @svtwonwoow @user707sthings @cherryinsalemverse @evylynny @decrepit-bees-knees @eleganttravelercloud @ghostwritermia @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson @fussel9913 @st0rmyt @glitterypirateduck @mischiefmanagers @waytoomanyteenagefeels @acourtofdreamsandshadows @sakurafrost3-blog @utterlyotterlyx @vickykazuya @venussdovess @xxxalicerogersxx @mattiescove @goldenmagnolias @secret-ly-here @kindaslightlyacidic @brujitafantomatico @venussdovess @xxxalicerogersxx @earth-to-lottie @balsalmic-vinegar @darbuckle21 @justagingerliving

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x mate reader #the inner circle #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #the day court

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starkwlkr · 2 months

Note

Hi Jen!!!❤️❤️❤️

I saw your requests were open so possibly, social media au or not, Cillian Murphy’s or Christopher Nolan’s daughter (either one would be fine, but I saw your imagine about Nolan!reader x Cillian so maybe Cillian would be better, either one is fine though) dating Charles Leclerc or lando Norris

(I don’t know if this has been done yet but it feels very random, but it I saw you wrote for F1 and Cillian so I just thought of that crossover. Couldn’t decide which driver I wanted to request for so I’ll leave it up to you between Charles and lando)

But if you do, then thank you!!!

my favorite nepo baby | lando norris

faceclaim saorsie ronan (don’t hate me, yes ik there’s more irish actresses but i love saoirse) also i love this request, mixing random fandoms is my favorite thing ever

liked by maxverstappen1, ynfans and 56,377 others

danielricciardo happy birthday, lady bird

mclarentears WHAT

dannyric333 does daniel know everyone??

bottaszz you don’t understand THIS IS IMPORTANT TO ME

landonorris my favorite nepo baby

danielricciardo the nepo baby says thank you

landonorris tell the nepo baby to make an account

danielricciardo no - the nepo baby

landonorris i tried

vettelsbees this is my roman empire

view all 23,477 comments

summer break

Y/n Murphy only knew Daniel Ricciardo because he had friends everywhere. It was only a matter of time before the Irish actress met the famous honey badger. Soon, his friends became her friends and the whole friend group was hanging out everywhere.

One of their hang out spots was the F1 paddock. Daniel insisted for Y/n to come to his favorite race, the Austin Grand Prix. It was no secret that Daniel is secretly a Texan so he wanted his new friend to experience the Texas atmosphere.

“We need to get you some boots and maybe a longhorns jersey. You’ll look so cool, trust me.” Daniel said as him, Heidi and Y/n walked into the AlphaTauri garage.

“He’s going to convert you into a Texan.” Heidi whispered to Y/n.

“Can you imagine me going home to my father speaking with a texas accent? He’ll have a stroke!” Y/n laughed.

“I bet that by the end of the day, you’ll love texas as much as I do.” Daniel smirked. “Maybe you’ll find a country boy you can take home to your old man.”

“Oh god, he’s going to have more strokes, die then come back and have more strokes.”

“Well then I can get you a British boy that won’t make your old man die.”

Y/n knew who Daniel was referring to. On the day of her birthday, which was a few days ago, Daniel showed her the comments that Lando had left on his post.

‘my favorite nepo baby’

While she told everyone she didn’t have an Instagram account, she had a secret one that only had about twenty followers which were close family and friends. She used that account to look at Lando’s account. She was going to lie, he was attractive.

“Just make an instagram! That boy keeps messaging me about you.” Daniel pleaded.

“I don’t use social media, I tried and I didn’t like it.” What a lie.

“Okay well can you at least talk to him? Wait, I should go with you, he might be the one having a stroke.”

So while Heidi stayed back in the garage, Daniel accompanied Y/n to the Mclaren garage so Lando could finally meet his favorite nepo baby. Y/n started to feel nervous, why? She didn’t know, she hardly knew Lando apart from his instagram posts.

“Hey Landoooooo!” Daniel dragged out the o.

“Is that Daniel Ric—” Lando’s voice stopped when he noticed who was standing beside Daniel.

“Is he having a stroke? I can’t tell.” Daniel whispered to Y/n.

“Hi . . . You’re y/n. Wow.” Lando tried to play it cool. “I’m Lando, but I’m guessing you already knew that because of the giant Australian yelling my name. Thank you Daniel.”

“Glad I could be of service. I have to go get ready, but you two go ahead and talk. Y/n, I’ve been told the Mclaren garage is the best spot to watch a race so . . bye!”

And all thanks to Daniel Ricciardo and his match making skills, your dad, Cillian, didn’t have a stroke when he finally met Lando.

#inbox <3 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #lando norris instagram au #lando norris insta au #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris

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luvjunie · 10 months

Text

— headcanons. what life is like for miles!42

a/n: i honestly didn’t mean for these to get so angsty oopsies!! i kept adding on so they’re also very lengthy wc: 1,751

contains: mentions of grief

Everyone thinks he’s rude and impossible to approach—but that’s a common misconception. In reality, he’s actually quite shy and simply prefers to keep to himself. His quiet nature often causes him to come off ill-mannered, which is completely unintentional on his end and partially the fault of those who assume what he’s like instead of actually getting to know him.

He used to be open to making friends and spending time with peers, but after everyone found out his dad died— which was impossible to prevent considering the man who used to drive him to school now had a giant mural made in his honor— he began receiving a ridiculous amount of pitied stares in the halls, began hearing hushed whispers about how hard things must be for him at home now. And even though they were, he hated that he was being treated differently by those he once kept close to him, like a charity case. As if he were fragile and would break— like he often did when he was alone.

His old friends were supposed to be his distraction, something to take his mind off how he now had to grow up faster than he’d liked. Something to remind him that his trauma hadn’t aged him as much as he feared; that he truly was still a kid at heart. But instead, they served as a constant reminder of the worst thing he’d ever had to live through— skated around him like he’d blow up the second they said the wrong thing; responded with heartfelt condolences instead of laughing with him whenever he’d tell a funny story about his dad. So eventually, he drifted away from them and began keeping to himself all together.

Don’t put him in a box because of his prowler side hustle, this boy is smart as hell!! Especially with one parent now being gone and his mom struggling to pay the bills? He takes his academics very seriously, he has no choice. He has to get it out the mud somehow and he doesn’t have the privilege of skipping classes as much as 1610-miles does. He’s working two years above his grade level in AP Calculus and AP physics, and has been accused of cheating on his tests a couple times due to how fast he completes them, as well as the fact that he has never once asked a question from the seat he chose in the back of the room.

It’s not something anyone would expect, but he enjoys baking a lot and he’s damn good at it too. When he was younger, he’d spent one summer with his Mamá Lena (Rio’s mother), who had him in the kitchen helping her cook and bake almost everyday and it just stuck. It’s a secret talent of his that never really comes up in conversation, and that you wouldn’t know about unless you’ve seen him doing it. His banana bread muffins using a recipe he took months to perfect taste like the gods themselves made them, and he’ll slip one into his mom’s work lunch whenever he makes them because he knows they’re her favorite.

He’s a lover boy at heart, if you were to look into his playlist, the songs you’d find in there probably wouldn’t be what you’d expect. Listens to bobby bland, which was heavily influenced by his uncle, old school rap, and he really likes love songs from the 90s because they make him feel calm, and allow him to imagine what his life would be like if he could have something like what they’re singing about. He’s terrified he’ll never be able to experience that due to his inability to open up to others. And often, he doesn’t even try to express the emotions that are tough to swallow, a firm believer in the saying that ‘once you’re down, it’s hard to get back up.’

Keeps his room pretty clean. It’s probably the one and only thing he has control over in his life, a constant for him. His room is his safe-haven so he treats it as such. It’s basically the same as 1610’s, just with a more matured look, a lot less color and less expression. He unfortunately lost that spark for a lot of his interests, so you won’t see more than a small punching bag, some boxing gloves hanging from the doorknob and few stragglers in the form of posters he didn’t feel like taking down.

He doesn’t like to argue, at all. He hates fighting with anyone he loves and he’s very quick to forgive them or squash the disagreement all together now that his dad is no longer here. When Jeff died, they were still on rocky terms from their previous dispute and even while years have passed, Miles still has yet to forgive himself for that. So now, he usually lets bygones be bygones, and never lets a conversation end on a bad note.

Continued growing his hair out once he realized it was a way for him to bond and spend more time with his mom. Within the little availability they do have, between her working doubles at the hospital, him being pulled in every direction now that he’s the ‘man of the house’—uncle Aaron’s words— and having to do things he’s not proud of to assist her while still going to school during the day, they make the time. Miles only gets it braided by her, and he enjoys the talks they have when he’s sat on the floor between her legs with his back to her. And when she’s done, regardless of how ridiculously embarrassing it is, and how he’s now over a head taller than her, he always lets her pinch his cheeks and call him her ‘handsome little man’. He hasn’t looked at a pair of hair shears since.

On that note, he is very, very defensive when it comes to his mother. Miles is not the kind to go around beating people up just for kicks; mostly because he’s not that kind of person, but also because even if he wanted to— he can’t.

In preparation for stepping into the prowler role Uncle Aaron put Miles into boxing/m.m.a classes when he turned fourteen, and he took to the skill very quickly. So well, in fact, that his hands can now technically be considered deadly weapons in the eye of the law due to his extensive training— which means he could get slapped with a ridiculous assault charge that would have him doing some time in a juvenile correction facility over a simple fist fight. (if he’s not masked as the prowler obviously).

But, some kid in his history class thought it’d be funny to make a slick comment about how Mrs. Morales was ‘single’ and ‘up for grabs’ now that his dad had passed, and the situation ended with Miles suspended for a week after he’d basically thrown his desk over to get to the kid, his knuckles bruised, and a tirade of complaints from the boy’s mother about his now-rearranged nose. However, after hearing the disgusting comment he had made about Miles’ mom, she was kind enough to not press charges and forced her son to apologize to the both of them.

That woman is his saving grace, literally. She stepped up in ways he didn’t even know were possible after his dad died, barely taking time for herself to grieve because she wanted to make sure her little boy didn’t fall apart. He doesn’t let anyone disrespect her and that’s always made known by him. He’s a mama’s boy.

They kind of have a titfortat thing going on, him and his mom. Like how she always stops in to ask him how his day was, if school is going well or if he needs anything, even if the time isn’t ideal and she’s talking to a sleepy Miles at 1am in the morning who can barely keep his eyes open. Or how his uniform is always freshly ironed and laid out for him in the morning, regardless of how exhausted she is and how badly she wants to crawl into bed after her shift. Or how when he’s sick, she’ll drive all the way across town to one of the only fresh markets that sells yuca root and white yautia so she can make him sancocho (a traditional puerto rican dish). It’s the one thing she knows always makes him feel better.

And Miles does nice things for her, too. Like draping a blanket over her sleeping form when she dozes off on the couch in front of the TV. Or making sure her phone is plugged in, so her alarm goes off in the morning, because sometimes she knocks out before she can bring herself to do it. He even goes as far as to secretly slip some extra cash he’s made from a recent job into the ‘RENT’ jar she keeps on her dresser— dropping a hundred in every now and then when she’s not there to see him do it. She’s never once asked him for help, but the one time he took it upon himself to offer it, he was shot down in seconds, and was made to promise her that he wouldn’t worry about it ever again. Her exact words being “You’re too young to worry about something like this mijo, okay? You take all the money you make from your after school job, every single penny, and you save it. Mama’s got this.”

But sometimes, she doesn’t. And Miles knows that she wants to be strong for him. For them. But it takes two, he knows that as well, so he helps out anyway.

And with prayers that they’re not short— Rio counts everything in the rent jar towards the end of the month, and a string of celebratory whoops and hollers will always sound from her room when she realizes they surprisingly have some extra cash that’ll allow her to take some days off and relax for once, and maybe even do something fun together. He’ll listen from his room with a knowing smile, more than happy to let his contributions remain undisclosed to affirm her efforts of providing for them the best she can. With her energy so depleted from how demanding her job is, she’s never suspected it was him discreetly assisting, and chalked it up to her forgetting how much she’d mindlessly dropped in there after each paycheck.

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#i kinda went crazy i won’t even lie #my favorite headcanon is the baking one!!#earth 42 miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles fanfic #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles angst #miles morales headcanons #miles morales fanfiction #42 miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse headcanons

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denwritesandcries · 4 months

Text

Call me Yours – Natalie Scatorccio

Pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

Summary: You’re in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.

Word count: 2,3k.

Content: NSFW, no crash!AU, cursing, arguing, jealousy, makeout session, thigh riding, slightly toxic behavior?? but it wouldn't be a yellowjacket relationship if it weren't just a little.

A/N: Is it a secret relationship?? Friends with benefits??? I don't know man but they’re horny.

English is not my first language.

You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio.

There is a party going on outside, students filling the rooms of Lottie's house with loud generic music playing in the background, but the small room you two were locked in remained silent, too silent.

“See ya’ in 7 minutes, ladies!” Van's mocking voice cuts through the air, but a knife could have done the same; the blonde snorts and you roll your eyes, fixing your gaze somewhere in the darkness so you don't have to face her.

“Ugh, how old does she think we are?” Natalie hisses, you can feel her eyes on your face, even though you can't see much more than the outline of her body at the moment.

You say nothing, arms crossed over your chest and a frown covering your face, Nat tries again:

“I didn’t even want to come to this stupid party.”

“I get it,” you bite, just because you know her well enough to guess that she won’t stop complaining until she gets something out of you, “I get that you don’t want to be here, Natalie.”

She must finally realize how mad you are – mad at her – at the sound of her full name instead of the nickname that always seemed to be on the tip of your tongue, because you swear you can hear her teeth chattering when she shuts her mouth.

With a growl of frustration, you let your head hit the wall with a thud. Great, your night was already being shit, the last thing you needed was to end up playing 7 minutes in heaven with the person who was the cause of your bad mood. Simply amazing.

You see, Natalie had been acting weird for days now, randomly avoiding your company and acting like she didn't know you in the school hallways and being really rude to you during practice. Now, this might even be normal and acceptable behavior from the quiet blonde if you were anyone else, but you weren't. You are her girlfriend.

Are? Were? You don't know for sure anymore given the way she's been acting lately.

Maybe it wouldn't have made you so angry – confused? Yes. Sad? Definitely, but not angry like that – if it weren't for today, for the party.

You had planned to meet Nat at Lottie's party and corner her to finally make her explain what the hell is wrong, dammit, because one afternoon you're smoking with your girlfriend and friends quietly in the basement and the next she's throwing you daggers with her glance every time you open your mouth around her. Anyway, that's what you were going to do, until you found her in the Matthews' giant kitchen leaning against the counter with a cup of beer in her hand and Kevyn Tan practically throwing himself at her, keeping an arm full of spike bracelets wrapped around her shoulders and face with heavy makeup too close to hers to be considered friendly, drooling for Nat like he's always done since you've known about his existence.

Now that really pissed you off.

Who does that sad, emo, pitiful boy think he is to touch your girlfriend like that? And why is she letting him?

You think she could feel you fuming as you stared at them from the door, because the next second she lifted her head and looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights, as if she knew exactly that she was doing something she shouldn't have.

Screw it, you thought, if she'd rather act like you didn't matter anymore, then fine. You won't be standing just watching.

You turned around and only managed to disappear around the house for the next half hour before Taissa appeared with a tired frown and practically dragged you to where the group had gathered with an empty bottle, because Van and Jackie wanted to play something – 'If I'm in this, then you’re too!’ – and well, fuck.

You two have been completely quiet for almost a whole minute and that it's eating you alive; Nat has always handled silence well, you haven't.

Fidgeting with the hem of your own shirt angrily, you huff and give up on the tough act, the blonde straightens up when she hears your footsteps approaching her.

"What is happening?" Your voice comes out in a shamefully desperate tone, “Why are you acting like this with me? What did I do?"

You can see her now, being so close and now used to the dark; her fists are clenched, Natalie keeps her eyes fixed on your figure. For a moment, you think she's going to keep her cold facade and avoid your question with some sarcastic response, she most likely considered it, from the way her mouth opens and closes for a quick moment.

She turns her face to the side, trying to hide, but you can see the difference in tone in the paleness of her skin anyway. Oh, she's embarrassed.

“Nat?”

She mumbles something you don't understand, then your curiosity gives way to the anger and your hands find her face, turning it so Natalie is looking at you.

"What was this?" You ask again, softly this time.

“You called me your girlfriend.” She spits it out fast as if it were just a single sentence, rolling her eyes at your confused face, “You called me your girlfriend to everyone when we were smoking after practice last week.”

Oh, you remember that, when Jackie decided to lecture you all about the smell of smoke that lingered on her clothes after she and Shauna decided to tag along on one of your hangouts with Lottie, Van and Tai, turning up her nose and talking about how you all – and especially Nat – should stop with this habit. ‘Jackie, stop bothering my girlfriend!’, that’s what you said. Is that what made you spend a whole week grounded in the doghouse?

“...And isn’t that what we are?” You try, unsure. This conversation is not taking a very pleasant turn toward a reconciliation.

Nat bites hard her bottom lip, you can see her struggling with the next words:

“It’s just… no one was supposed to know.”

“Oh,” you mutter pathetically, sounding very much like a wounded puppy, “So that’s the problem.”

You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.

You can tell she regrets it the moment she says it, grabbing your hands in hers as you pull away.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I– I didn’t mean it like that.��

“How did you meant that then?” Your initial anger and frustration return with a vengeance, you move forward until Nat's back hits a shelf in the small room.

Natalie always does this. Avoid anything that labels your relationship as real; calling your dates ‘hangouts’, not touching you when there are people around, leaving your house before you wake up in the morning, avoiding kisses and caresses that don't initiate anything sexual, calling you ‘friend’ when you can see that the whole team knows this is not all you two are.

Still, – still – she always shows up at your house when she's upset; she doesn't like it when you miss your 'hangouts'; always stays close to you wherever you are together; gets mad when she sees you talking to other girls, even if they are nothing more than classmates; leaves marks all over your body, but doesn't let you do the same, spots and more spots all over your neck that are impossible to cover. People know that you're dating, they just don't know that you're dating Natalie.

And then she gets mad at you for finally putting a name to whatever this is and starts avoiding you completely, even though it's been months since it all started and you've known each other for years.

Nat gasps when your hands find her waist with a firm grip, bringing your lips closer to her ear:

“I’m gonna make you want me to be your girlfriend.”

You swear you feel the shiver that runs through her body. Nat smells like cigarettes and mint gum and it tastes the same when your mouth meets hers.

Her arms are around your neck before she's even processed what's happening, black painted nails playing with the hair on the back of your neck like it's second nature – and it is.

The way Natalie tilts her head to deepen the kiss and bites your lip hard when your hands come up to caress the skin under her shirt says your actions are much appreciated.

The husky, needy moan that escapes your throat when you realize she's braless, palming and massaging her soft skin brings a cocky smile to her face, she sighs, breaking the kiss and letting her head fall back against the shelf in satisfaction.

Nat doesn't moan, not like you do. She seems to want to hold back as much as possible, taking all kinds of reactions from you and your body, but not giving the pleasure of having the same from her. You want to change this.

You let your mouth roam from her strong jaw to her pale neck, leaving wet kisses, bites, and marks. Many marks. You bite the thin skin in different spots, soothing the bite with your tongue, hoping for the spots to form and stay there for days, for everyone to see.

You lazily slide a knee between her legs when you feel Natalie try to turn you around to take control. You usually let her do it, but not today. She squeals in surprise and pleasure, hips instantly grinding against you.

“Nah-ah, Nat,” you cut, bringing a hand down to slow the pace of her hips, “I guess you shouldn’t take anything today, or do you think I forgot about how much you paid attention to that little emo bastard earlier, huh?”

“You hate him that much, huh?” She tries to say in a mockery tone, wanting to turn the tables again, but it sounds pathetic as her voice breaks later in the last words.

“Yes,” you say easily, leaving a lingering kiss on her shoulder, finding her pulse point, “He was touching you. Touching my girlfriend.”

You bite down hard on the skin when Natalie turns her head to grant access and she moans, actually moans, fuck, you did it. A full sound, loud enough to make your pupils dilate until your irises almost disappear. This, this sound, you want to hear this forever.

It's been more than seven minutes, you think, or maybe our discussion was just really quick. You wonder if you would have time to take one of her breasts into your mouth, feeling the way she rolls her eyes and thrusts her hips against your thigh, now free from your hands, when you roll her nipples hard between your fingers.

She sighs as she receives another kiss from you, much softer now, more affectionate, feeling her hand tracing circles on your cheek.

A quick, loud knock on the door startles you both, making Nat jump and bang her head against one of the shelves behind her and knock something over, “Fuck!” She screams and you instinctively reach for her head to check for injuries.

You look at the source of the knock, it's definitely not Van calling, she would have opened the door at once just to laugh at your faces.

“Girls, time is over!” Jackie's voice sings on the other side.

“Ugh,” Natalie grunts, clearly frustrated at being interrupted so abruptly, she takes the opportunity to finally take a look at the closet as you head towards the door, “Is this some kind of pantry?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “Rich people have so many random rooms scattered around their houses.”

There are loud whistles and jeers as you leave, half the football team gathered in the busy room and giving you knowing looks, you give Van the finger when she points out the traces of dark lipstick on your mouth.

“Were you guys actually going to fuck in there?” She teases, arching an eyebrow with a smirk.

You open your mouth to retort – probably with something stupid – but Natalie is quicker:

“Fuck off Van, stop bothering my girlfriend.”

Van gives up the provocation, raising her arms in surrender and Nat rolls her eyes as if she hadn't said anything important, but you're absolutely frozen, listening to your heart beating rapidly against your ears.

Natalie looks back when she notices you standing still and snorts in amusement at your reaction, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you with her.

“C’mon,” she says, “Let’s go, silly, I got something to do–”

“Move!” Jackie interrupts with an anxious tone, pushing you gently by the shoulder and bouncing on her heels, “It’s our turn.”

You catch a glimpse of Shauna standing shyly behind her like a shadow being dragged to the closet and Jeff sitting on the floor with the rest of his classmates with the most confused and defeated expression you've ever seen as Nat hurriedly guides you out.

When you're about to get into her car, Natalie surprises you, grabbing your waist with her cold hands and pressing you against the door, hungry eyes fixed on your form.

“I–” you stutter nervously, “I thought we were going home?”

Natalie nods.

“We are,” she agrees, “I just have to do you first.”

Well, maybe your night won't end as bad as you thought it would.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets #nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #nat yellowjackets #denwrites

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

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Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Tell Her You Love Her 3/4 (Word count 4.5 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

A/N: Finally I can share the rest of this crazy story with you guys! Chapter 4/4 will be posted right after this one. Also if you haven't yet seen @shizukaay0 's amazing fanart for this fic, go take a look, it's steamy!

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She wakes up next morning only to find König gone.

The restless night nearly makes her sleep in, and when she notices that the man has left while she was still sleeping, something twists like a blade inside her stomach. She throws the covers off, scours the room with her stare, and notices a note and a small sunflower on the bedside table.

He has left his knife – or one of them – here too. Another gift.

The steel is dark, nearly black; the handle olive green, with sturdy finger grooves and a heavy guard to protect the fingers. The saw-toothed portion on the back of the blade gives the knife a look that most people would probably deem ugly. The blade is wide and ends in a vicious, fat tip that looks sharp enough to puncture flesh without having to apply much pressure.

She doesn't know what a Glock knife looks like, but this is exactly how she sees König: petrifying, big, and brutal. In her eyes, beautiful… Stunning.

The knife juts from the table and holds a note in place although there is no risk of wind to take it off.

Flower for my Engel

I'll see you tonight

The clumsy, hurried message immediately makes her smile. The disturbing thoughts from last evening are only an odd memory – his offerings make her insides glow with warm milk and honey, she feels silly, like summer – and the promise to come to her every night doesn't feel like a threat anymore, it feels… magical, a secret romantic meeting, something wild, something she has always avoided from fear of trying new things.

The floral dress on the floor doesn't appear as evidence of her ruining anymore. It's fairytale-like: that he leaves flowers and knives wherever he goes. The destroyed bra makes her almost giggle. When has a man ever done something like that to her in the heat of passion?

The night feels like another odd dream: König had barely fit to sleep in her bed, and she had barely fit to curl around him. He had slept like a baby, motionless and peaceful, while she woke up every few hours to admire him: to watch the slow pulse between his collarbones barely revealed by the hood and listen to the faint snore that stopped for the smallest moment when she brushed her fingertips over his stomach.

Her muscles ache from lying half on top of him all night. Changing position was out of the question because he held an arm of steel around her all night. Luckily, it prevented her from falling from the bed. But now her muscles were coated with pains of not getting enough sleep while being held in place by a giant for almost 9 hours. Not to talk of the fresh aches born from their activities before getting those precious few winks of sleep…

She goes to work that day with such an everlasting beam that people notice her. She's not entirely sure what has happened, but she is suddenly wildly alive, and blooming.

No one knows about her secret man, her secret, sturdy weapon. No one knows she is the one he comes to every night: the shy, invisible cleaner who has seduced the man whom everyone fears.

And they can keep their boring normalcy and dull decency. She has found something infinitely better.

He's her most precious secret from now on.

He comes to visit her in the break room in the middle of the day, and she's slightly surprised. She thought they would see each other only at night from now on.

She greets him with a smile, and he answers her delight with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He looks far more normal now that the tension is gone. It's suddenly easy to be in his company because they share a secret nobody else knows about.

"Hi… What are you doing here?"

Her shy smiles and the soft whisper should tell him that she doesn't object at all to this sort of intrusion. She might be a little obsessed now too.

"I had to see you," he says as if she's his priority from now on, and her heart feels lighter and lighter. He's equally as lovestruck as she, then.

"You look so beautiful."

She's walking in a dream again: this man calls her beautiful even when she's hidden in her cleaner uniform, stripped from her dresses and flowers and makeup. The only thing she has is her smile, really, but he's not any less adoring. She's being worshiped during her sleepy coffee break, in broad daylight, when she's dressed in dull, grimy working clothes… Who would've thought?

“Thank you,” she gives him another smile, and he moves to her; so close that she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

The kiss that follows is stolen but thoroughly consensual. She disappears inside his hood and smiles on his lips, which are far gentler now. It's a chaste little kiss that happens in darkness and in secret, like everything else between them.

"Will you come to me tonight…?" She asks as if the note wasn't promise enough that he would. He's far too decent, not even groping her this time, and it drives her crazy.

"Nothing could keep me from you," he answers straight into her mouth. His musk and the soap he uses – something breezy and pungent, tea tree, perhaps – surround her much like the hood.

"You can be on top this time. I want to see how you take it–"

"Shh…" She smiles, almost laughs at his libertine whispers. He's smiling, too.

"Don't worry. I'll do the heavy lifting if you're tired."

He retreats, the hood is taken away and her sight is filled with light and decency, but then his hands go around her waist and lift her from the ground. It's like she's flying, floating through the air before he sets her gently on the coffee table.

"Except that you're not heavy at all," he says, voice dark and thick from arousal. He moves to her neck, the hood-coated face roams up and down her throat as he moves to whisper more suggestions in her ear.

"Or you can take it in your mouth… Have you ever had a man in your mouth?"

Something tells her that if she were to say yes, it would deeply upset him. The hair on the back of her neck starts to tingle, and when she doesn't answer him, he continues.

"I could eat you at the same time. Would you like that?"

His voice is darker still, and it makes her bite her lip and grab his arm for support. Even the idea of a 69 with him is dizzying. She can barely breathe from the joy and wanting.

How is she supposed to continue her day when he pops up out of nowhere and talks such sweet filth in her ear?

"König…"

"And after that… We'll fuck until your legs shake."

"Stop," she laughs a hushed giggle in the fabric of his hood. "This is inappropriate…"

"Oh ja. I'm hard again."

Mmh.

"All your fault, Engel."

"You are incurable," she laughs.

"That's what they say."

Perhaps it's a joke, but the word they makes her briefly wonder if he has had this kind of affairs with other women, too. Perhaps she's not so special after all. The image of him fucking other women with abandon breeds a stale, bitter putrefaction in her stomach.

Has he called them angels too…?

Her hands are about his neck, but she has no memory of throwing them there. She wishes she could just dangle from him the rest of the day until he carries her to bed and does all the things he just promised he would do. Let her do all those things to him while he gets to watch – watch how well she can take him, ride him, suck him.

She makes a silent promise to herself and to him that she will be the special girl, no matter the cost.

"Do you want coffee? I just made some," she asks in hopes that he would stay for a little while longer even if he isn't supposed to be here in the social spaces of the maintenance personnel.

"Sure. I would love that."

The man wants his coffee dark, and it only makes her smile as she pours him that minimalistic, unsweetened beverage. She likes his knives dark, his hood dark, his shirts dark… Perhaps she should start wearing black dresses.

"You left your knife in my room."

"For you," he tilts his head a little, wanting to know if she likes his gift. Has he given knives to other women, too, after he's fucked them…?

"Thank you. It's incredible."

"Good combat knife," he nods. "Doesn't reflect light."

If someone was here with them right now, they would probably roll their eyes at how deranged this conversation is. What rotten lunatics they both were.

She’s completely flushed, and smiling like an idiot from receiving a fat, vile knife as a present after having been fucked into oblivion twice last night.

"Well, it reminds me of you."

He looks at her, searching for deceit or ridicule, but there is none.

"That's how you see me..?"

"Mm-hm," she hums with sudden lightness. "Incredible."

His eyes betray the same look he had when he came inside her last night: brief, fragile, naked hope. Her next smile is sadder because obviously, this guy didn't receive compliments often. She's watering a dry desert plant with a single, simple word, and his eyes light up like he's just received years and years worth of good care.

He steps forward and looks like he is finally about to sit at the table. The obsessed look has melted into pure adoration: it's even more knee-buckling than the possessive stare that has followed her for weeks.

One of the maintenance officers arrives to get a cup of coffee in a hurry; a man whose name she doesn't even care to remember, whose world seems to consist mainly of stress. He’s a typical, middle-aged, burned-out man who doesn't appear to remember how to cherish the little things – such as a good cup of coffee – but rushes by everyone and everything and blames them for his stress. She always feels pity for both people and inanimate objects that get to suffer from this man’s exhaustion.

But she doesn't even see him now: all she sees is the fierce operator who is not supposed to be here. The giant who looks at her equally as mesmerized, like everyone else has ceased to exist in this world.

The air is teeming with naked lust and barely contained, sweet hunger, but the poor officer is blind to all of that. A sudden warmth gushes on her chest as the man bumps into her while rushing by with his overfilled coffee mug. She might as well be invisible again, and the hot liquid burns, but it has no power to make her angry or sad.

“Oh–excuse me,” she chirps with a dreamy smile on her face when it’s all his fault that she has coffee all over her shirt.

Before the man gets to the door, König grabs him by the collar and hurls him against the wall. She doesn’t even catch the knife before it plunges inside a round stomach like the worker is merely a balloon to be punctured.

The blade comes away all red, then disappears into the flesh again, and again and again… She loses count after six; the knife sails inside the same hole like he’s fucking the man with the blade. The slick sounds remind her of their intense love-making last night, they taint the passion in the most twisted way.

More hot coffee ends up splashing on her thighs before the sound of a mug smashing into tiny little pieces on the floor tells her that all innocence is lost.

Her gaze is glued to the black and red mush that used to be a polo shirt and a stomach: the man stays upright only because he is not allowed to collapse to the ground. But after a few seconds that seem to last hours, he is shoved to the floor in a sad heap.

She’s still staring at the now dead man when König takes a small step toward her. It occurs to her that both her palms are over her mouth only after she raises her eyes to his, and sees that he had expected some other reaction than this.

Her hands won’t descend; they try to keep all her horror inside, try to reassure her that this is only a dream, she hasn’t woken up yet, and the relief will be immense once she does.

But that never happens.

It’s real, and she would give anything to go only a few minutes back in time where the man was still alive and König was not everything she always feared he was.

He is looking at her with bewildered confusion, then the corner of his eye twitches, just once. He forces the blade back into its sheath without wiping the blood off: a telltale sign that he is more than thrown off balance.

Her horror and disgust escort him out the door in a tornado-like state, and she is left alone with two spilled coffees and a bleeding corpse, wondering who will clean the mess because she cannot for her life do it.

. . . . . .

The shock leaves her body cold and weak as she sits on a bench in the hallway, too distracted to carry on with her day, too afraid to go into her lonely room. It feels safer to remain in a public space, even if people who pass her by look at her with pity and confusion.

She cried her eyes and heart out after the shaking receded. She understands now why shock is such a dangerous state to be in. She always thought it a lie that people could die from shock, but not anymore.

Other people cleaned the mess, after the investigation. How she was able to stay so calm and collected during the questioning is a miracle on its own. What came after was an empty, bleak abyss.

She’s still staring at the floor after the buzzing around her quiets down. Minutes or hours pass by, the work day is over, steps fade away, doors close, people leave.

“Now now… What's the matter here lass?”

It’s the Scottish dude, unbearably benign, and looking like he’s actually caring about why she looks so devastated.

So, the other operators haven’t yet heard.

She doubts if König will receive much more than a scolding for what he did, high-ranked and fiercely dedicated to his work as he is. The man’s simply too valuable to be thrown away. They will just blow enough money to cover this shit right up.

This is not a regular army, and these are not regular people.

Soap sits down next to her, and she doesn’t even mind. At least he’s normal. At least something in this world is still intact, and smiling kindly.

"König did–König did something terrible."

She snobs and snivels, nose clogged and numb, eyes still burning from the tears. Soap looks at her with unadulterated concern, then pity. His brows knit together and he swallows before sighing profoundly.

"Right. What did he do now?"

When she only continues to stare at the floor, Soap raises a hand and starts to rub her back. Rather forcefully, to make it clear that he's not making a pass at her.

“Did he do something to you?”

She shakes her head slowly, because technically, it’s the truth. He didn’t knife her down.

Soap doesn’t ask any further questions. He must know without telling that König has done something bad, something fucking foul even if she hasn't been at the receiving end of it.

"Wanna hear my advice? Just stay away from that guy. Don't talk to him, don't pay attention to him."

The hand on her back stops as he thinks of more advice to give her while her heart grows cold and lonely.

"Just pretend that he doesn't exist."

It’s another punch in the gut to hear that she, the invisible girl, should simply return to her invisibleness and condemn König to nonexistence, too. To cast him out and send him even further into exile. To pretend that he had never been inside her, never brought her gifts.

The hand disappears, but then she feels padded gloves on her chin. She's too tired to flinch, and the hand gently coaxes her to turn her head and look back at the Scottish sunshine.

"Now… Give me a little smile, lass. It can't be that bad."

He’s not flirting with her.

She’s far too plain for Soap.

Or at least, that’s how she feels: unattractive, to men like him. To twinkling brown eyes, a perfect jawline, good jokes and outgoingness… She's had a few admirers but König is the only man who has looked at her like she’s nothing short of a goddess.

Soap, however, is the only one who came to clumsily cheer her up from the slump that witnessing a violent stabfest has sent her in. Everyone else just rushed by with feigned hurry. Every kindness she receives, she usually returns tenfold… But kindness is also a burden. Under the surface, she mainly wants to get rid of Soap; wants just to be left alone. Finally go back to her room and cry herself to sleep.

So she gives him a smile, shy enough to make him believe it’s genuine.

"There we go," he smiles back like an innocent sun, and behind him, in the darkening hallway, she catches the approaching giant: a black hood and under that, a bone-searing blue gaze.

"Wait–wait, wait!"

She darts from the bench, between Soap and him, like her lithe little body is enough to shield John MacTavish from a murderous titan.

If a man who spills coffee on her deserves to be stabbed more than a dozen times, what will happen to a man who has dared to touch her and make her smile?

"Don't,” her hand meets the steel of König's chest, and the blood drunk Goliath actually stops.

“Don’t, König, please."

The ice-cold gaze drops to her, and there’s such a range of emotion behind those blues that she has a hard time catching even half of the storm raging inside her maniac.

Soap rises from the bench behind her: the rustle of clothes and the squeak of gear tell her as much.

"Caught the girl crying,” he says with poorly disguised trepidation in his voice. “Now I don't know what you have done but maybe you should apologize."

Soap’s bravery is admirable. The flash of rage that is sent behind her could scald flesh from bones.

She presses herself against König, hugs his middle, tries to guide his attention elsewhere.

Just let the him go, please, no more…

Soap could perhaps defend himself for a while, but she doubts if the Austrian war machine would stop even when he’s shot full of holes.

Gargantuan arms go around her like a cage: she’s his, and forever will be. The true cost of being cast out from heaven is heavier than she had ever imagined; the tears that arise are born from a deeper trauma than that of witnessing a homicide in her quiet little break room.

. . . . .

König waits as she goes to have a shower. He follows her like a dark cloud as she goes to throw her work clothes, stained with coffee and the memory of blood, to the washing machine. He waits with statuelike composure as she finally sits on her bed, hair still dripping wet and leaving damp stains on her cute little white dress.

Wearing white seems like an abomination right now.

"I told you I don't want you to hurt people," she says quietly while watching how the water gathers at the tip of the strings of hair and tip-tip-tips on her dress and hands.

The man says nothing to defend himself. All the rage and fury is gone, his shoulders are tense, high up in the sky, almost in his ears. He’s shielding himself, and it makes her confused – clearly, he feels empathy, so why is he like… like this?

"I don't think you understand,” she swallows, heart beating more calmly now. He’s not going to plunge a knife in her, that much is certain. But still…

"I'm afraid of you."

She raises her stare: a powerful accusation, a woman's weapon. His head pulls back – he's surprised at this newfound nerve.

"I'm afraid of you, König," she emphasizes, much louder now. The declaration rings so true that it leaves her breathless and free, even powerful.

He, on the other hand, is a paralyzed beast. A golem stripped of the magical word that makes him a soulless robot. His eyes betray fear of loss for the first time, real, actual fear. He steps toward her, and when she doesn’t stop him, walks slowly to where she’s sitting.

He falls to one knee, slowly, so slowly – like she's a bird about to fly off. It pulls at her heart, it rattles the cage of her ribs. The frigid padding of his gloves touch her cheek, and she surrenders an inch or two. Maybe more than that.

She doesn’t know who lifts the mask, he or she, but her lips meet his desperate ones under all that black.

"I'm afraid of you…"

She whispers it on his lips, in his mouth, although she’s not afraid anymore. She’s pissed, and somewhat in love, and addled, shaken, ruffled to her core.

The kiss turns into a hungry one when he notices she’s not meaning what she says. Before long, she's on her knees too, and he's devouring her until she finds herself in his arms, being gently set on the floor. A trembling hand disappears under the hem of her dress, and the fabric comes up with it as he travels up her thigh.

But the only thing that’s wet right now is her hair, everything else is parched dry, locked up, sealed like the tomb of Tutankhamun, and there are curses in store for the one who will try to enter with force. Hell, even with a trembling, delicate hand.

And it’s not because she can’t get aroused – she could, in mere minutes with him – but because she’s not wet at the very instant he’s in her presence, that makes her grab the hand currently trying to get some solace from her.

"No."

He stops but doesn’t move that hand away. He’s panting in her mouth: needy, and in a whirlpool of despair. The only thing that can make him feel better is her wetness, which she cannot provide him.

The hand probes; it forces its way up just an inch.

"No."

She's relentless, and he finally draws his hand away, only to place it hesitantly and with an immense amount of grief, on her waist. She feels tiny under that giant palm.

"I'm not your plaything," she whispers, even finds the courage to shoot a tiny glare his way.

The hand does not apply pressure. If anything, it grows lighter and lighter with the fear of scaring her away.

"I made a mistake, Engel," he breathes. "You're not a toy."

Her eyes must betray both her hurt and longing because the man ups the stakes immediately.

"I'll give you anything you want," he tries: so desperately, so seriously that it sounds quite ridiculous.

"Can you just go," she whispers while a tear or two push out from the corner of her eyes. They’re hot as hell because they’re born of odd love.

"Engel–"

"Just leave."

The fingers on her waist curl, they grab her dainty little dress like it’s his only gateway to heaven. He releases the fabric soon enough, then grabs it again and lets out an agonizing sound.

Just go, go, please just leave me be…

She wants him to understand that there are consequences to his actions, and at the same time, she wants him to just hold her, to fix everything and fix her. It doesn't take the bitter taste of betrayal off her tongue to realize that she always knew what he was. She knew.

He rises to his feet, paces around a few times, more and more confused, distressed like a tortured animal. She sniffs and curls into a fetal position, hoping that he would just leave, and at the same time, hoping that he would brush off her demands and just hug her.

"I can't," he finally wails as if he can hear even her thoughts. "You're crying…”

It breaks her heart into million pieces – how can the same man stress and fuss about her tears when just hours ago, he had murdered some innocent man in cold blood?

He comes to the heap of her again, falls to his knees, then caresses her arm so softly that at first she thinks she’s just imagining the touch.

"Little angel," he tries.

Her following sob is like that of a child's. Why does he have to be so perfect and at the same time, such a–

"I know that I'm a monster."

Her eyes want to fly wide open, but she keeps them shut. He's self-aware, so much so that it hurts. He pets her more neurotically now; it's almost as if he's comforting himself and not her.

"Don't send me away," he begs, then curls behind her in an awkward spooning, holds and rocks her gently as she cries some more. After the catharsis that lasts for good long minutes, he gathers her like a doll in his arms and carries her to the bed so she doesn't have to lie on the cold, hard floor.

"I'll make it better," he says again and again as he caresses her and strokes her hair, "I promise I'll make it better…"

“Just go,” she cuts him off with a whisper.

He leaves eventually, after some more pacing and a few sighs, and she understands that he actually cared for her all this time: otherwise, he would've just taken what he wanted.

She slips into a dream, a soft oblivion where everything is well and summer is at its peak. They hold hands and stroll through the freshly cut grass, birds are singing, and he has no mask.

Taglist:

@ghostinvenus @konigsleftkidney @stillinracooncity @valenspuppy @koionthewalls

#könig x reader #könig x female reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #könig #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #könig smut #konig x reader #call of duty #mw2 x reader #yandere könig #könig imagine #just friends

1K notes · View notes

fleurhcss · 2 months

Text

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ 𝐈 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Hyunjin x FEM Reader!

cw : photographer Hyunjin, needs a muse, reader and him will meet in his exhibition, blood, murder, nudes, sculpture classes, dead body tw, if you are sensible pls don't interact, MDNI. SENSITIVE CONTENT!

sw : blood kink, hair pulling, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, anal, oral (both receiving), riding, humping, teasing, touching, masturbation, blowjob, marks, biting, choke kink, they'll have sex covered in blood.

wc : 9.025

synopsis : Hyunjin's a photographer and meets reader at his own exhibition. He falls in love with her beauty and the way she talks about art, so he proposes to her to attend his sculpture classes and then, after some of them, to be his model for a nude photography project, which will lead them to have sex. One day, she arrives before the appointment and begins to explore his study, finding a cupboard where he keeps all the heads of the girls he has seduced before her. But she's not afraid, she's excited. After a few minutes he shows up, catching her in the moment and she tells him her little dark secret, so they set up a murder and then fuck in the bloody mess.

a/n : hii... that's the first time for me writing here and writing in English so PLS im sorry if there are some errors!! I hope u enjoy this anyway 🎀🎀

MASTERLIST

[ SMUT / TW ]

You have always been an art lover, which has led you to visit many exhibitions over the years. Photography and sculpture were your favourite subjects, and you have lost count of the number of exhibitions you have visited in your lifetime. However, it was a bit of a contradiction that art was not what you studied. You were a student of anatomy at university, which of course helped you to understand the human forms you so admired and loved to create. Although your studies were far from your true passion, you couldn't help but attend the private lessons that were often advertised in flyers around the city. That year alone, you attended no less than five classes, loving the way your hands shaped the clay beneath them. Its softness, the way it escaped your touch when wet: it was smooth, soft, elusive and malleable. Almost unpredictable, one might add. Once, because of a few air bubbles, you had to redo your work because it had burst in the kiln. Yes, one of the great faults of clay was its ability to burst if it was not perfectly formed. You were like clay, unpredictable. But you also loved the unpredictability of a photograph, the immediacy of a shot. The reality it represented. It was no coincidence that these were your favourite subjects.

You were walking around, sipping your caramel milkshake, after a long and tiring day at university. The music was on your mind, you imagined yourself in the scenarios that the soundtrack was transporting through your ears, but nothing could have distracted you from the sight of a giant billboard announcing a photography exhibition that weekend: The Art of the Body. This particular billboard had caught your attention not only because of the type of photography on display - nude exhibitions were rare in your town these days, too much of a scandal for the citizens. You were different, you appreciated every single muscle, every single feature of the human body. - But also for the way in which that body, unclothed, had been immortalised. Enclosed in a net that did not completely cover it, the woman's features were fully visible; she looked almost like a sculpture because of the contrast between light and dark.

You were enraptured by the image, your thoughts had clouded your mind, you had barely paid attention to the name of the photographer who was going to present this exhibition. But you didn't care, the subject matter was already of great interest to you. Nude photography by those who could not understand or feel it was considered almost scandalous. You found it a contradiction because very often the same people who criticised this kind of photography were the first to admire sculptures of the calibre and genre of Michelangelo's David, who, by the way, was naked.

For you, this kind of photograph was just like a sculpture. But warm, soft, even more real and expressive. You were sure that you would love that kind.

When you got back to your flat, the first thing you did was take a shower. It was the most plausible option after a long and tiring day, not least because you would have to clean up the mess left in your kitchen. In fact, by the time you found yourself having to clean it up, you were starting to get bored, so television would have been a good idea for entertainment at a time when all you wanted to do was sleep. You watched the news, and once again the topic of the day was the countless missing girls in your area. You wondered what was going on and why so many girls had mysteriously disappeared in a matter of days. There were no traces of mysterious serial killers, or even traces and statements from the victims themselves, if there were any. They had not been seen with anyone, nor had anyone talked about them. They had nothing in common. Or at least the police had not been good enough to find out. Well, in fact, the police had failed miserably from the start with the story of these girls' disappearance.

After all, there were no traces of the girls, and you had to clean up quickly because of the stench that was starting to fill the room.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

Finally, the long-awaited day of the exhibition had arrived, and you were excited just to think that you would be able to see such works live, even more so if they were all close to the one on the poster that had caught your eye. You were well dressed for the occasion, you wanted to make yourself presentable. You were also excited to meet the artist. You hadn't read the name, you weren't even interested in meeting him, but as the days went by, your curiosity grew and you did some research to find out who the man was: he was a young man - well, very young - his name was Hwang Hyunjin, a photographer and professor of sculpture. You were very interested in that because those were your two favourite subjects. So you had to admit that you had made yourself beautiful in order to look like that in the eyes of such a man. Also because you had seen pictures of him on some magazine covers and on the Internet, and you had noticed that he was indeed a handsome man. Maybe even more than handsome. He himself seemed to be part of a collection of sculptures.

His features were delicate but masculine, his body seemed well proportioned and he was tall and lean. He had dark, feline eyes and lips that were sure to drive all the women who had ever met him crazy.

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and, after spraying on your ever-present perfume, you left the house, heading for the exhibition. It was Saturday night, the streets of your city were crowded, kids ready to go to some club, men with wives were ready to go to dinner. Saturday night chaos was, as always, inevitable.

You found yourself having to turn down your best friend's invitation to some club just to go to this exhibition. But she understood, she knew how much you loved art and you hadn't missed a single one of these exhibitions that came to your town every year. It was true, you had never missed one. Once you even got a cold and covered yourself well with a huge scarf and a heavy coat. Unlike the way you were dressed today. A tight black dress that stopped at mid-thigh, a long black coat, your beloved lace-up boots and a chignon that gathered your hair delicately. You were truly charming.

When you arrived at the exhibition, you immediately took a glass of red wine that was offered to every visitor. You were enchanted by the splendour that surrounded you. Photographs of all kinds: coloured, black and white, bodies covered in nets, naked bodies, bodies covered in liquids - water, blood - lying in the soil , all one with nature. But the photograph that struck you the most was of a body whose head could not be seen and it was crushed below the knees, while a long stream of blood was falling on it. It was strange, the photo was in white and black, well contrasted, sharp, but the blood had not lost its colour: warm red, carmine. You could feel its density, its fluidity, through the photograph. It had given you goosebumps.

A warm, but not too deep voice distracted you from your thoughts.

«This painting is called Passion's Flood.»

You turned to see the boy you had been searching for, for the past two days, and your mouth almost fell open.

His beauty was even more ethereal in person. The complexion of his skin was almost golden, and those eyes seemed to bore into you. The articles were not wrong, this was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was elegant, refined, attractive. You didn't even know what adjective to use to describe him, to do justice to such beauty. You were so dazzled that you almost forgot everything you wanted to say to this man.

«Why this name? More to the point, why the adjective 'passion'?» you said as soon as you awoke from your almost trance-like state. The words slipped from your tongue, as did your curiosity as to the real reason for this choice.

It was strange to hear that such an image had been given such a name. You were curious about the definition of 'passion' for this man. Why it was associated with the image of blood. That rich red liquid dripping onto a naked body, accentuating the shape of the woman portrayed. This made the man behind you smile. He approached you and studied you carefully. He examined you from top to bottom. From head to toe. It was inevitable that he would find you a beautiful, attractive, girl. He bit his lower lip and glanced at the work in front of you, then shifted his gaze back to the subject of his interest: you.

«Interesting question, I see you also pay a lot of attention to the names of the works.» your eyes were fixed on his lips, watching them move at the sound of his voice. How he licked them and made them shine. Perfectly swollen and red. Watching him had become more interesting than watching his work. «Inevitably, the intrinsic meaning of the work itself could be understood from the name, but it is interesting how you used the adjective 'passion' to describe a body covered in blood. The work itself is interesting, it is rare to see something like this in an exhibition. You have a fascinating mind, Mr. Hwang.»

This only inflated the ego of the man at your side, who wasted no time in positioning himself in front of his own work. He flashed a smug, satisfied smile, interested in how your mind was working at that moment. He could not stop the instinct, the primal instinct, that inevitably drew him to you. He licked his lips for the umpteenth time and crossed his arms over his chest, allowing the fabric of the jacket he was wearing to fit better over the obviously defined muscles. «Call me by my name. I don't think there's much of an age difference. In any case, the definition of 'Passion Flood' in this case refers to the fact that passion can flare up in any way, at any time. The association with blood is not only because it automatically brings to mind a warm colour, such as bright red, but also because passion flows in our veins, in our blood. The blood itself evokes the heat, the impact, the sensation that passion can give us. A unique adrenaline rush. For few.» you were enchanted by the way his mind worked, the man was a genius.

Not only was he good at shootings, but the way he spoke to you, the tone of his voice, was like a mermaid to a sailor. He would lure you out to sea and then grab you by the tail. His piercing gaze was as if he wanted to trap you and drag you down with him.

«Your definition of passion is interesting, Hyunjin. I can also say that this definition fits perfectly with the way you create your works. If I may say so, this photograph is extraordinary, perhaps one of the best in this exhibition so far. After all, passion is what you do. Photography is in your blood, it is your passion. Art itself, right? Looking at this photograph, I can see the body of the liquid, the vivid colour and the contrast with the chiaroscuro of the body. I can see the softness of the flesh, its silkiness.» When you stopped talking, the man in front of you licked his lips, pleasantly pleased with what your mind could conceive in terms of art.

«Your mind fascinates me, ...?» he paused, clearly inviting you to tell him your name. You felt the blood boiling in your veins, a heat permeating your body. As if him had set it on fire. «Y/N,» you whispered, once again entranced by his beauty. You were sure he had bewitched you somehow. His charm was beyond anything else. Hwang Hyunjin was not just an artist, he was art itself.

«Do you also work in the field of art?» he asked, moving dangerously close to your body. Your mind went blank, he was far too close. You could not say a word. He was like a magnet, the closer he came, the closer you wanted to be. It was crazy how a man could have such an effect on you, who had always declared yourself a woman who would not be intimidated or subjugated by men. But with Hwang Hyunjin it was different. You were under his spell and would let him do anything to you just to feel him near you.

«I take anatomy classes, but in my spare time I take classes in photography and sculpture. Let's say they are my biggest passions», you could see his eyes light up when you said this. That was his moment. Hyunjin could not fail to use this moment to invite you to one of his classes. Yes, among the thousands of things Hwang did, there were also private lessons in sculpture and photography. And you could not help but be delighted, your heart almost leaping out of your chest. The one and only, the magnetic Hwang Hyunjin had personally asked you to join his sculpture class.

As he walked towards you, your bodies colliding, you found yourself squeezing your legs together, you felt a jolt penetrate your intimacy. His lips came to your earlobe and caressed it, «I expect to see you there, Y/N».

Needless to say, when you left that night, all you could think about was Hyunjin's pointed hands running over your body.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

It had been a really tough week at university, you had to dissect several bodies and your placement was about to start. You were going to be a trainee in a forensic laboratory, so your lectures were now harder and the level of attention they demanded was higher. However, the thought of attending evening classes that Friday, taught by Hyunjin - the man who had been on your mind for the past week - helped you relax.

Your best friend was aware of the little fixation you had developed with the man and often used it to tease you. When you told her you were going to meet him in class that evening, she made so many dirty jokes that you wondered if it was still her. But other girls had disappeared in those days and she didn't want you to be one of them. So she was worried. As you prepared to go to class, she had given you more advice than your mother had given you in your entire life. In fact, you felt like a daughter, a little girl to her. It was obvious that you would be careful, you wanted to return home safely.

So you prepared and made yourself beautiful, just to impress the man of your thoughts, and then you left the house, leaving a trail of fruity perfume behind you. That evening, even though the occasion was nothing more than a sculpture class, you had dressed well. You had on a light sweater that left a strip of your belly uncovered, burgundy with vertical stripes of fabric. Loose, baggy jeans below your navel and flats that matched the colour of your shirt. But the breeze that had risen that evening had forced you to put on your beloved leather jacket.

Your hair was loose, falling over your shoulders as one hand held the strap of the bag tightly. You were eager to see how Hyunjin taught during his lessons, eager to see those hands you dreamed of every night on you, running over the fresh clay, shaping it, imagining it to be your body. You were curious to see what this evening would bring, whether it would be as interesting as you thought it would be, or whether it would be a total disappointment.

Arriving at the location indicated on the flyer Hyunjin had given you, your eyes met the moment you crossed the threshold of the hall. He stood out like a marble statue, his hair tied back in a ponytail, a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up and baggy jeans covering a pair of brown and white Nikes on his feet. The piercing in his eyebrow made his gaze at you even more captivating. You entered, bowed and took your seat. They weren't all taken yet, surely he hadn't started because he was expecting a few more people to attend the class.

Behind him were blocks of clay and a table with all sorts of tools and materials for modelling. You assumed that he would be distributing these materials to the students himself, and were not at all surprised to find that most of them were women who were just as interested in the art as they were in the man who was going to teach it to them.

Your gazes were chained as if nothing could break it, it was only interrupted when Hyunjin realised that the hall was now full and it was time to start the lesson. He stood in the middle of the hall with a smile on his face, he was really handsome. He managed to be delicate and attractive at the same time. You were sure that this boy would not be easy to get out of your mind. It was clear that you wanted him more than you thought. «Welcome everyone, this is the first lesson of this course where we will cover the basics and modelling with clay. I have some tools here with me, after I give you a general introduction to the subject, I will hand them out to all of you, along with a lump of clay, so that we can begin the actual course.»

Needless to say, you lost focus after his introduction, too focused on watching his lips move and the vein in his neck throb. You watched his movements carefully, the way the fabric of his shirt occasionally allowed a glimpse of the hollow of his v-zone, the way the material of his jeans clung perfectly to his slender thighs. The man was a dream, and yet he looked like a demon disguised as an angel. His elegant, almost princely movements had managed to hypnotise you. You felt your body go numb and shot through with a long series of electric shocks, all of which landed in your stomach. The sexual tension you felt when standing next to Hyunjin was now sky-high.

It was Hyunjin himself who distracted you from your unchaste thoughts about him. He placed a series of objects on your bench and winked and smiled at you. That made you glow red, and not just on your cheeks. You felt a pleasant warmth spreading through your body and you weren't sure what it would lead to. Certainly nothing good in the state you were in now. «Good to see you here, Y/N.» he whispered in your ear, making you blush again. You lost your words.

As Hyunjin took his place behind a table with all the materials needed to mould the clay, it was fascinating to watch how his wet hands began to caress the block, softening it. Kneading, massaging the malleable material. But the thing that took your breath away again was the way his eyes locked on you as he spoke. As he explained how to handle the clay, as he squeezed it, as he moulded it in his hands, his gaze was fixed on you. You squeezed your legs together, and you were sure he noticed because of the smirk in his eyes. This made you even more embarrassed.

You watched as his tapered fingers created shapes, sweeping over the material, smeared with clay, to shape it to his liking. You wished you were that lump of clay. You wished he would touch you the way he did with that slippery material.

As you began to shape the clay yourself, you hardly thought about Hyunjin's fingers caressing you as you wished. Your mind was lost in the farthest reaches of your thoughts as you concentrated on shaping the lump. You hadn't even noticed Hyunjin watching your hands move as you did with his. His gaze devoured your body and hinted at what was going on in his mind. He was curious how those skilful hands would move around his member. It made him quite aroused, but he could not afford to have an erection in the middle of class by having unchaste thoughts about you.

As the classroom began to empty, the teacher greeted everyone politely and took the opportunity to approach you, who had not noticed anything, still lost in your world and the little statue you were forging. He positioned himself behind you as soon as the last student had left the room, and began to stroke your arms and blow on your neck. It was what brought your head back down to earth. You bit your lower lip as his hands moulded the clay with yours and his warm body clung to yours.

You found yourself gasping as his lips touched your lobe again. This boy would be the end of you, you were sure of it.

«You know, I noticed how your legs tightened at the sound of my voice. I also noticed your eyes burning into my form as I gave this lecture. I'm very curious to know what fantasies are running through your head, little Y/N,» he giggled, then washed his hands in the next sink and invited you to join him. And once again you were hypnotised, enchanted by his voice and his touch. When he took you by the hips, placed you on the only clean counter and spread your legs, you couldn't help but gasp. Words were dead in your throat now, you looked at him with bated breath and all you wanted to do was sink his face between your thighs. «Look what we have here, - he said, stroking your intimacy from above the fabric of your jeans, which he could feel were already wet, - there's no need for you to hide now. I got you,» he whispered again against your neck.

«Hyunjin... Please,» you murmured, your thoughts now clouded by the pleasure of his touch. «What? Tell me what you want,» he taunted you again. Your hand moved to his wrist and pushed it towards the crotch of your jeans. That drove him crazier than you thought.

He unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down to your knees, his gaze resting on the crotch of your now wet panties. You felt no shame, the only thing running through your body now was the adrenaline of being fucked by this man. Your rational part had been switched off by the only one part that had to take over. «Look at you, I haven't even touched you properly and you're already all wet, you little whore. For now you'll be satisfied with what I'm going to give you tonight, if you're good enough you'll get another prize after this one,» your head had fallen back and your back was now arched. It was only with his words that he had been able to bring you to this state. Giggling, he moved the fabric of your panties with two fingers, the same ones that slowly began to massage your walls, while his eyes carefully scanned every corner of your body. You were going crazy, you wanted more and your grip on his wrist let him know it. «Look at you, so needy for my touch. I have a crazy idea that you can't refuse. I need this favour. No one inspires me, attracts me like you do. Be my muse and let me photograph this beautiful, unclothed body,» he whispered into your ear, pushing his fingers further between your pussy lips.

He did not penetrate you, but you were sure that only with this type of touch you could come. You nodded, reeling from the spell he had cast on you, and he smiled, pleased at the state you were in. He moved closer to you, not a kiss, just a bite on your lower lip and one in the hollow of your neck. Which made you quite dizzy with the sensation of his fingers now moving in a circular motion over your intimacy.

«Very good, Princess. Now why don't you cum for me? Like a good girl,» he whispered and began to move his fingers at a speed you didn't think possible. But your mind was clouded and you needed to feel under your hands how much he needed your touch too, so with a grin you grabbed the crotch of his trousers and began to move your hand up and down, feeling how great his length was. But there was no pleasure in doing this from above his jeans, so you inserted your hand into the fabric and with quick movements began to masturbate his intimacy. His moans were satisfying and made your head spin, you were almost in the same state. He growled, moving quickly on your vagina as you did with his member, now a moaning mess, playing with the tip of his member, stimulating it.

It was obvious that after a few minutes you would cum in each other's hands with a loud orgasm, and you did. You screamed her name as her teeth sank into the hollow of your neck, biting it. «I have no class on Tuesday, come here, to this address, my long awaited project will finally come to life,» he whispered in your ear as he licked his fingers covered in your juices, just as you licked yours, soiled with his.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

To say that you had been thinking about what had happened with Hyunjin all weekend was an understatement. The boy hadn't left your mind for a second, nor had the feeling of his fingers over your intimacy. You were constantly thinking about what you had done and the desire to go deeper was alive and growing inside you. It was obvious that you wanted to be fucked by him, so much so that you almost forgot your own name. When Hyunjin was in front of you, all rational thought went out the window. When he had asked you to be his muse, a warmth had grown in your chest and spread between your legs. You couldn't wait to pose naked for him. To let his hands move your body as he wished. Even at that moment, his hands were touching you in your mind, as you rubbed against the pillow in your room, with another news report of a missing girl in the background. But your mind was too busy thinking about Hyunjin to listen to how this girl, unlike the others, you had actually seen in the course of sculpting that the man you dreamed of every night was taking.

When you reached your orgasm, certainly not like you did with Hyunjin's hand, you decided it was the best to take a shower. The next day was the big day you had been looking forward to. You were going crazy. Your best friend had called you to find out the details, but you still hadn't told her what had happened between you and Hyunjin, you would when you maybe had sex fully. Also because that was what you had hoped for most. To hear how he wanted to fuck you. You giggled to hear how she imagined possible scenarios for your encounter, if only she knew how far you had already gone.

When the time and day finally came for you to meet Hyunjin for 'his long awaited project', you couldn't help but feel the shivers running through your body. You wore your hair in a slightly dishevelled bun, a tight black skirt covering you to mid-thigh and a slightly unbuttoned blouse with a burgundy lace-embroidered bra wrapped around your torso. Black boots on your feet and the usual leather jacket over your shoulders.

You gasped as Hyunjin's slim and elegant figure appeared behind you. He was wearing a blue silk shirt that showed his chest, tight black jeans and pointed ankle boots of the same colour. Sunglasses and a necklace surrounded the beauty already present in the man, and the loose hair falling down his neck made him even more attractive in your eyes.

His gaze gave you goosebumps; he approached you with an almost devilish smile and greeted you with a kiss on the lips. At that moment, you felt the ground give away beneath your feet. You looked at him as, smirking at the way he was making you feel, he opened the studio door and let you in first like a gentleman. «I see you've made yourself pretty for me, little Y/N. I like the way you're dressed, that bra fits you like a glove, it's a shame we have to take it off,» he whispered as he slowly removed your leather jacket and put his glasses elsewhere. His voice guided you, sending shivers down your spine. You noticed that all the materials he needed were already arranged in every corner of the studio and understood that he didn't want to waste any time in arranging what he needed. Kissing your neck, he began to remove your shirt, gently running his fingers down your arms and then your torso, then removing your bra as well, cupping your tits with his hands and massaging them, causing you to give a moan of pleasure that made you throw your head over one of his shoulders. «They are perfect, they have a wonderful texture, a perfect shape to be cupped by my hands,» he blew on your shoulder, biting it almost violently. But this action only made you moan even more.

Slowly he began to move his hands down, caressing the rest of your body, making you gasp as he pulled off your skirt and then slowly your panties. You were completely naked to his eyes this time. He bit his lip as he caressed every part of your body, from your breasts to your bottom, cupping and massaging one of your buttocks. «Like a good little girl, take off your shoes and lie down on this wooden hoop,» he said, and you obeyed. Without a word. You felt his eyes burning on you, like fire. You lay down in front of him and let him touch you in any way that would satisfy his desires. When he grabbed the camera, you squeezed your legs together, already feeling the effect of his intense gaze on you.

It made him laugh, but not in amusement. Not at all. It was almost diabolical. You saw how he approached you by getting on top of you and opening your legs, he began to watch how your pussy shrank around nothing, completely wet. This made him move his nose closer to it and blow on it. It had driven you so crazy that you not only let out a long moan, but arched your back so that your vagina was closer to his nose. And he grinned as he slipped two fingers inside you without warning, taking a picture just as your back arched again, your head fell back and your lips parted in a moan. « Very good baby, you are the perfect muse for this project. No one could have done as well as you,» he whispered as he pulled his fingers out from inside you and brought them to his lips, sucking away your juices.

You went crazy, your body was burning even though you were naked, craving his touch, his hands on you. Every time he approached to take your picture, you hoped he would touch you, something more than mere caresses. Even if they were not 'mere caresses'.

But when he put down his camera and caught up with you at a fast pace, you realised that maybe he didn't just want to take pictures. And in the end, that was what you were hoping for. He towered over you with his body, observing how perfect yours was. He caressed every part of you until he lowered himself to your lips and began a ravenous, passionate kiss. You moaned at the contact and his hands began to massage your breasts until, running out of air, he pulled away from your lips and then lowered himself to your breasts and sucked on them voraciously. Your head was elsewhere, you could do nothing but give way to his touch. Your hands were harpooned in his hair, pulling at it. Your legs tightened around his torso as his pelvis moved in search of yours. Hyunjin was mad. He could feel the blood boiling in his veins; he needed to release all the adrenaline coursing through his veins. «My bitch, that's what you are. Just fucking mine. And like a good girl you are going to feed me now,» he smiled almost maniacally as his face settled between your thighs. He had taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, which were now too tight to contain his obvious erection. You clutched his hair as he began to bite your inner thigh, leaving bite marks and bruises everywhere. But you didn't care, you just wanted to feel him between your legs.

Hyunjin began to take long laps on your cunt, spreading it with his fingers so that he could better slide his tongue between your walls. You were a whimpering mess, all too pleasurable. He sucked and moved his tongue voraciously, as if he really wanted to eat you. He pulled at the lips covering your clit with his teeth and then sucked on them almost violently. You felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't want to come like that, you wanted him to fuck you. «Please Hyunjin...mh...stop...it's too much, I'm about to come...!» you gripped his hair in a vice grip. But that did not matter to him, if it meant making you cum several times in one evening, he would do it without fail.

His mouth was harpooned between your walls, his tongue moving as if he were kissing you and not what was between your legs. You were going out of your mind and the closer you came to orgasm the more he felt it and went fast. «Fuck Hyunjin!» you shouted before cumming all over his face. Which pleased him by the way. He licked his lips and without a second thought started to kiss you again, so much so that you could feel yourself on his tongue. But that was not enough, he wanted you. «I'm going to fuck you so hard you have no idea. Now behave as well as you have so far and suck me off,» he said as he removed the last of his clothes. Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his erection, certainly getting him all the way in your mouth would have been quite a challenge. You watched him ravenously, having dreamed of this moment for far too long. You began to slowly run your hand down the length of him, massaging his balls as well, you were slow, running your fingers along the veins and playing with his head. He looked exhausted to see you like that. His moans became louder. You smiled and took him in your mouth, all the way to his uvula. This made him tighten his grip on your hair, which was clenched in his hands. He pulled hard on them as he fucked your mouth. Your hands were tight on his thighs as you slid it over your tongue. You spit on the tip, then took it back into your mouth and ran your tongue along every vein. Concentrating especially on the tip. «You are fucking phenomenal. My good whore, keep it up, faster,» he said in a broken voice as he used his pelvis to push against your mouth.

It did not take many more thrusts before it poured into your mouth in hot streams. You stared at him intently as you swallowed the liquid. With a grin, now his umpteenth, he ran his thumb between your lips, cleaning them of his own seed and attacking them with an almost violent kiss. It was so quick that you didn't even notice when he slipped two fingers inside you and began to move them quickly as his member became erect again. Seeing you under him like that drove him crazy and he couldn't wait to fuck you the way he wanted to. He wrapped one hand around your neck, making you moan. You didn't know that these things could ever turn you on, but with Hyunjin, with his hands on your body, it was impossible not to. Soon his fingers became four inside you, and the way he twisted them inside you made you think he already knew what your walls looked like.

It was unexpected for you when you were turned over and positioned on all fours with him standing behind you, erupting like one of your many beloved sculptures. He rubbed his erect member against your entrance, making you shiver as only he could. «God, I can't wait to fuck you, if only you could see the way your butthole is clenching around nothing as I rub against you,» he grinned. But you could feel it, you could feel it all right. «P...lease put it in, I need it Hyunjin mmm - make it quick please, fuck m...e» by now you were beside yourself. Your brain was disconnected.

You heard him laugh, pleased that you felt so weak under his touch. But you couldn't help it; it was as if he had cast a spell on you.

Without a word, he thrust into you in one swift motion. You let out a moan, just as he had. He pushed your back down so that your face touched the floor. You were a fire, you felt your body burning and you just wanted more, more and more. «Fuck,» he shouted. He had your hair in his grip as he squeezed your buttocks and began to thrust into you. You felt the floor turn and collapse beneath your body. You felt full and also heard the sounds Hyunjin made. He growled as he thrust into you with dry, precise strokes. «You're so fucking tight and hot. I could come right now,» he growled thunderously. You couldn't answer, too busy enjoying the feel of his dick inside you. But you needed to feel him deeper, you wanted to feel all of him.

You moved your pelvis closer to his, driving him crazy, he bit his lip while you were a moaning mess, doing nothing but mumbling unrelated words to each other. You were going crazy, you wanted to feel him burning inside you, between your walls. «Fuck, yes, shit!» you heard him say as he held your pelvis tightly against his. The strokes were faster, you felt his cock touching your sensitive spot, stimulating it. You were sure it would not be long before you came. He pulled your hair hard towards him and with the hand holding your pelvis he began to push your body against his own, as if you were standing up. He tightened his free hand around your neck and you moaned at the lack of air.

«Plea...se Hyunjin... harder... faster... fuck the...re...» you said incoherently as he bit your neck, leaving an obvious signal. «Shut up, I decide.»

He whispered in your ear, then increased his thrusts. He forced you back onto the cold wood and you felt his body crush yours as he squeezed your neck and thrust into you at a relentless pace. It was impossible at this point not to let out a loud, high-pitched moan along with your humours.

«Very good, Princess. Now make me come, like a good girl,» he said, overstimulating you, by this time you had reached your limit, your body was weak. But the sound of his thrusts drove you even crazier. After a few final thrusts, you toothed in the hot, sticky fluid that filled your hole. You moaned along with him, riding out his orgasm as his seed dripped from your thighs. He growled and let go of you, kissing your shoulder.

You never expected him to clean you up by putting his tongue between your buttocks and licking away his own cum. This made you moan at his touch, causing him to giggle, which made his tongue vibrate inside your hole.

As he stood up and began to clean it up, including you, he leaned towards your face and blew on your lips, leaving a slow, passionate kiss. «I want you here this Friday, Y/N.»

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

Days later, you were still thinking about the way Hyunjin had fucked you so well in the photo room. You couldn't get it out of your head. Even when you found yourself cleaning up the huge stinking mess you had made. That day you had made more of a mess than usual, you had to be more careful the next time.

When you had finished cleaning up the mess, you decided it would be better for you to eat: you had to cook lunch. The next day you were to meet the man who had been in your thoughts for two weeks. You couldn't think of anything else. Hyunjin really seemed to have cast a strange spell on you. But you didn't mind. Just like it hadn't bothered you to feel that his body was completely connected to yours.

After a quiet lunch you decided it would be best to organise your tools and materials, after this morning they were all in a mess and you hated mess. You had even left them out of storage the last time. So you stood patiently in front of your cupboard, arranging the duffel bag that you jealously guarded. Meanwhile, you wondered why the police still hadn't found anything about the girls. The number had increased enormously, and whoever was making them disappear had to be an expert to get away with it without leaving any evidence. You'd like to ask yourself who would ever be able to go unnoticed for almost twenty days while the police still hadn't found anything. After tidying up the mess you had made, you decided that it might be best to think about what to wear to meet Hyunjin tomorrow. You were extremely impatient.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

And there you were, in front of the usual studio. Where Hyunjin had arranged to meet you. You had dressed up, a black over the knee coat, your usual leather jacket, black boots and this time your long hair was over your shoulders. However, you noticed that the studio door was already open; maybe Hyunjin was already inside, just waiting for your arrival. You bit your lip, unsure what to do.

What would be wrong with going in?

So you did, but no one was there.

«Hyunjin?» you called, hoping that the man would appear before you. But curiosity got the better of you and you started walking around the studio, which was large but not too crowded. There were scattered tools, pieces of clay and photographic paper. But there was one thing that caught your eye. The door to a small room was half open, and from it came a strong smell that you knew too well. You were used to the smell. But you wondered why it was coming from the cupboard in Hyunjin's study and why you had never smelled it before, since you had been there twice before. So you went to the door, opened it and put your hand to your mouth.

You had just found the culprit behind the disappearance of so many girls in your town.

There were so many heads arranged in rows on tables, the blood had been cleaned off, but the skin looked intact, as if it had not decomposed. They looked like so many porcelain dolls. You started to get closer when you felt a presence behind you and your breath caught in your throat. «Someone found something they weren't supposed to see, don't you think, Princess?» you turned around so slowly that when you saw him covered in blood, an electric shock almost ran through your entire body.

But you were not afraid; your curiosity had overcome your fear.

«How did you make them so porcelain-like and not get caught?» you whispered as his body clung to yours, crushed against the wall. He chuckled, trying to see an edge of fear in your face. He was surprised to find none. That made you even more special and unique in his eyes. No one had ever been like you before. «Aren't you afraid? Ask me how I made them like this instead of running away and reporting me to the police,» he laughed. But you smiled, grabbed his hair and brought his face closer to yours. Lips on lips. «I'm not afraid. In fact, I'm curious. You made them look like so many disembodied dolls. Where did you throw their bodies without getting caught? It takes talent,» the answer made his eyes sparkle.

You were definitely different.

He grabbed you by the neck and tightened his grip. But you weren't afraid, you were sure he wouldn't hurt you. He was just angry because you made him feel different. Because it was you. You made him want you more than anything.

He slipped a hand under your dress, felt how wet the crotch of your panties was.

You giggled.

«You are different. You are not afraid. You're turned on by all of this, you sick little whore,» you laughed. At the top of your lungs. You pulled him closer with one leg and rubbed your pelvis against him, moaning. «I may have a dark little secret of my own, my dear Hyunjin. How about we take advantage of it?» you bit his lip. His head was spinning, he felt his hands burning. «First tell me about this dark little secret you little bitch,» you pressed your bodies together and felt yours almost catching fire, you wanted it. Again. At least you wanted him to make you come.

«Haven't you ever wondered why I take anatomy lessons when my passion is something else?» you giggled, leaving him confused. You were like him. «I love dissecting corpses even more when they are fresh and made by me, squeezing organs in my hands, and I would love to see them intact forever. Why don't you tell me your little secret? How do you make those heads like that?» you moaned under his touch, quickly rubbing your cunt against his thigh, wetting it. «You're fucking crazy,» he laughed maniacally and then began a fierce kiss, as if your bodies were about to catch fire. You continued to move on his thigh, moaning his name on your lips as you jerked him off over his trousers. All this was turning you on more than you thought. Your breath was short, you couldn't hold back any longer, so you let out a long moan, you on his leg and him in his trousers. It was fast but intense.

«How about cooperating, princess?» he laughed, still above you. «With great pleasure,» you whispered growling into his mouth.

⋆˚✿˖° 𐙚 ₊ ⊹ ♡

After that day, you invited Hyunjin to your house and showed him your collection. It was funny to see his surprised face. He never expected to see that side of you. That day, you orchestrated the perfect plan. Your victims had rarely been women, and his were all women. He also explained to you how he chose his victims, his modus operandi : he often went to this café frequented by students, and often heard these girls squawking like chickens and insulting art, a thing he revered. So did the woman's body. So why not get rid of them after seducing them and keep the body as a prize? It was a perfect idea in his mind. So he decided to prove it to you himself.

You stood at the table behind him and a certain Sasha, he had met her that morning when he brought you your coffee and decided that she would be the ideal victim. You watched as he tried to seduce her with a grin, running his hand down her back to her bottom. You bit your lip, a little jealous of the touch he was reserving for her.

When they got up, you followed them silently, already knowing where Hyunjin was taking her: at the back of his study was a large chamber where he carried out his murders and burned the remaining bodies: the clay oven, a very good idea, you thought.

Everything happened very quickly, the way he undressed her and she undressed him. You trembled. You hated to see the way the girl touched him. He was almost ready to fuck her when, with a wink, he moved you forward and handcuffed the girl's hands and feet. But she screamed in vain, the walls were soundproofed, Hyunjin really had thought of everything.

He took off your clothes, stroking your body, and put them aside with his own so they wouldn't get dirty. After all, it was impossible to remove blood stains from the fabrics. He bit your shoulder and patted your ass, then stood statuesque in front of the girl. You watched closely as he slit her throat with a sharp knife, splashing blood everywhere. And you flanked him as he opened her chest and began to harvest the organs that he would soon show you how to embalm. You loved it.

Soon a pool of blood spread beneath your bodies. You sat on his naked pelvis, as bloodied as he was. He brought the knife between your mouths and you did not hesitate a moment before licking the blood off the metal, crossing your tongue with Hyunjin's. His vermilion hands cupped your breasts, your thighs. Your body. You were the woman he adored. His muse. The half he shared his madness with. His illness. Your mouths met, you drew your lips together, biting your tongues. It was a fierce, ravenous, passionate kiss. Your intimacy rubbed against your naked pussy, wet and warm. You couldn't wait to fuck him. He bit your neck ravenously. As if he wanted to eat you. You loved the way he was so impetuous with you, so passionate. He drove you crazy. «How about we play a little princess?» he grinned, then put two fingers to your vagina and began to move them quickly. Your moans were disconnected and his lips were tight on your breasts, sucking on your nipples and pulling on them with his teeth. Your hands were harpooned in your hair, pulling at it. You definitely wanted more.

He entered you slowly, playing with your walls. As he licked the blood from your body. «Mhh, Hyunjin faster please,» you begged him, pressing your pelvis against his. You wanted more, you wanted him inside you. Your hand reached his intimacy and began to play with his glans, pressing your thumb on the tip so that he moaned. You loved seeing him like that under your touch, even more so when he was completely covered in blood. His hand reached your neck as you decided his fingers were not enough to satisfy you and stood up, sitting straight on his cock. This caused him to moan sharply. «Have a good ride, Hyunjinie,» you whispered in his ear. And he grinned. He took his fingers, smeared with blood and your fluids, into his mouth to lick it all off and then push it into your mouth, playing with your tongue as your walls adjusted to his thick length. You pulled your head back as he tired of waiting and gave a precise thrust inside you, gripping your neck tightly. You loved it when he did this. You began to jump up and down on his length, letting out moans that fortunately no one could hear thanks to the soundproof walls. Hyunjin bit his lip hard as you humped him. He loved the feeling of watching you riding him. He felt a unique warmth running through his body.

But he was tired; speed and strength were not enough for him. He made you lie down in that pool of blood, put his hands under your knees and bent your legs towards your breasts. He entered you with a precise thrust, as if he knew just the right spot to hit you, and your loud moaning let him know that was exactly where he needed to thrust. So with almost animal speed he resumed his thrusts inside you. He put your legs on his shoulders while he held your neck tightly with one hand and played with your clit quickly with the other. It drove you crazy. Your moans were now as uncontrollable as the times Hyunjin had cried out in pleasure. «Fuck Princess, how good you take me. Your pussy is perfect for me, so ,warm. You fucking hold me so well, you little whore,» he growled. You couldn't help but moan loudly at those words. You couldn't speak, every time you tried to say something the words died in your throat.

«I'm... coming... fucking H... Hyunjin for fuck's sake! Ther...e yeah!» you moaned one last time before tightening your warm walls around his cock. «Fuck I'm about to come too, squeeze me so fucking tight.» And he, now at the top of his lungs, poured hot streams into you, filling you. But he didn't come out; he decided to tear himself all over you as he filled you, letting his cum drip out of your cunt.

You stroked his long wet hair as he kissed your breasts. «You are mine forever, just know that,» he whispered, biting you. You giggled. «I wasn't planning on looking for anyone else after you, Hyunjin,» he smiled, then looked at you and licked a drop of blood that had fallen from your shoulder.

«I like you covered in blood.»

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