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moonknightsonata · 4 months

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Acts of Service

pairing: moon system x reader, marc x reader centered

summary: You learn Steven and Jake’s love languages quickly, Marc’s takes a little longer to realize but it doesn’t surprise you.

cw: not many, a brief non-explicit mention of sex, Marc getting anxious about your relationship

wc: 1199

a/n: Happy new year! This is not beta read, my first time writing for the moon boys and also my first time posting and sharing a fic in probably like 5+ years. Please let me know if I’ve missed any warnings, and let me know what you think! I tried keeping the reader as inclusive as I could, but please let me know if I slipped up with anything.

—

When you first started seeing the system, they all showed affection in similar ways. Holding hands, chaste kisses, flowers at the start of dates and walking you home at the end of them. They each had their own ways of going about it, but at the start all 3 of them were stereotypical in their affection.

Now, months later, you could easily tell each of the boy’s love languages.

Steven fluttered between quality time and words of affirmation. He was a romantic at heart, so in reality, he would do anything you asked of him, really. But you could tell he was happiest just being near you, telling you how much he loved you, and hearing the words in return.

Date night with Steven would be art galleries, museum tours, site seeing, or just walking around the markets hand in hand. Cafe’s and bookshops for rainy days, which there were plenty of in London, filled weekends with him where you could just sit in each other’s company and read besides one another.

Jake was the master of physical touch. You think it’s because he didn’t have as much time fronting as the other two, and his only physical touch with humans up until the three started getting along was when he took over the body in emergencies like in Cairo. When Jake was fronting, his hands were always on you.

Jake always had his arm on you when in public. Around your shoulder, or on your waist, he didn’t have a preference as long as he had you in his arm in some way. You liked to compare him to a livestock dog. Not like sheepdogs who herded them, but like a pyrenees that would fight a wolf off a lamb.

He was also the most handsy in the bedroom.

Marc took the longest to pinpoint his love language. Mostly due to the fact that he was the last to open up to a relationship with you.

You had met Steven first, dated Steven first, and then met Jake and Marc along the way. The relationship with Jake blossomed easily, but Marc still had walls he had built standing steady, that he wasn’t ready to break down yet. For a while even, you weren’t sure he liked you. After anxieties about it were aired out, Marc reassured you he did like you, he was “just shit at showing it” as he had put it. He hadn’t wanted to get close, mess things up with you and risk everything Steven and Jake had with you. That was the turning point for you and Marc’s relationship.

You thought it was behind you, until you noticed Marc’s odd behavior one day.

“Marc, baby, are you alright?” You asked him, leaning against the kitchen counter as he washed dishes.

“Hm?” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, nodding as he kept his attention mostly on the pan he was scrubbing. “Yea, fine, why’d you ask?”

“Because you’ve been scrubbing that pan for about 10 minutes now. I think it’s clean.” You smiled softly, as his brow scrunched when he realized.

“Fine… yeah. I just… you know I love you?” He finished his sentence more like a question.

“Of course I know. I love you too.” You moved closer to him, putting a hand on his cheek to look him in the eyes. “What brought this about?”

“I don’t… I don’t say it enough. When we met you weren’t even sure I liked you, and now I don’t even say I love you as often as Jake or Steven do. So I just…” Marc lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand to his hair, pushing his curls out of his face as he steps away from you. You give him his space, you know when he needs it. To work out emotions without feeling suffocated or closed in.

“Just thought maybe you weren’t sure again.”

Marc avoids looking directly at your face as you look at his. You understand him, more than you probably know, which scares Marc. Not in a bad way, but scares him in a way he can’t believe there was someone out there who could.

Which is why what you say shouldn’t surprise him, but it does anyway.

“You don’t have to say it in the same way Steven or Jake do for me to know.” You start softly. “You have a different way of showing it, than they do.”

Marc’s eyebrows furrow, even more than the wrinkled brow he usually has.

He can only describe the look on your face that you give him as adoring, as you continue.

“The days that you front, you’re always up before me. Whether you’re an early riser or you never really fell asleep that night - you know exactly how to make my coffee in the morning and I always wake up to a cup made the way I like sitting on the counter waiting for me.

“I also know that it isn’t Jake who had my car’s oil changed, or the tires rotated a couple weeks ago.”

Marc shrugs at that one, mumbles something that you think is “That’s not a big deal.”

As you tell him all this, you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that Marc’s love language was acts of service. Because of course it was. Marc, the giver. Marc, who always felt he needed to prove his worth and make up for sins of his past, by any means necessary. Your Marc, who did so much for you without expecting a ‘thank you’ because that was how he showed he cared.

You kept going with more examples.

“Last week I forgot my umbrella and my lunch in the apartment and you came all the way to my job to drop them off for me.” You wrap your arms around Marc’s waist at this, resting your head against him in a hug.

“Or, when it’s cold, you always turn my heated blanket on the bed while I’m doing my night time routine, so that the bed is nice and warm by the time I climb in. And when -“ You could keep going, listing the things you notice Marc does for you, but he stops you with flushed cheeks.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I do a lot for you.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully as he wraps his arms around you to return the hug. “I like taking care of you.”

“You take care of me because you love me.”

Marc nods, kissing your forehead. “Yeah, I do. I’m just sorry I don’t say it more.”

“I don’t need you to. It’s nice to hear, but I still know it. You show me every day.” You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss, which Marc gratefully returns.

“And I’ll continue to show you every day, until you get tired of me.”

“I’d never get tired of you, baby. You, Jake and Steven are all stuck with me.”

Marc laughs. “Stuck with you? Making it sound like that’s a bad thing. Honey, I think you’re the one ‘stuck’ with the three of us.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon knight system x reader #moonknight x reader

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chuuyrr · 1 month

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ᡣ𐭩 YOU'RE NO GOOD FOR ME, BUT BABY I WANT YOU — YANDERE! NAKAHARA CHUUYA .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 CW(s): f! reader, possessive behavior, implied stalking, manipulation, suggestive theme (middle part), not proofread

ᡣ𐭩 SYNOPSIS: in which you have no idea just how far a lovesick man like him would go for someone like you

ᡣ𐭩 NOW PLAYING: diet mountain dew by lana del rey

A.N.: this is my first time writing with um, a yandere concept, especially for chuuya. so i hope it's ok ( ՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞ )

from across the bustling cafe, chuuya's gaze fixates on you, his heart quickening with every laugh that escapes your lips. the way you carry yourself, with an effortless grace that seems to defy gravity, it's mesmerizing.

he can't help but feel drawn to you, as if you possess some magnetic pull that tugs at his very soul.

as he watches you, a pang of guilt gnaws at chuuya's conscience. what started as innocent admiration now feels tainted, as if he's crossed some unseen boundary.

the realization dawns on him like a sudden storm, crashing down with the force of a revelation: he's been... stalking you.

he tries to shake off the feeling, to convince himself that he's simply infatuated with your beauty, but deep down, he knows the truth. his feelings for you have crossed the line into obsession, a love that knows no bounds.

as he sits there, pretending to be just another face in the crowded cafe, chuuya can't help but wonder what he's capable of in the name of love. the line between admiration and obsession blurs, and he finds himself teetering on the edge.

chuuya lets out a sigh, a mixture of longing and guilt swirling in his chest. he knows he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be indulging in his obsession, but he can't help himself. with a shaky hand, he pulls out his phone, fingers trembling as he unlocks the screen.

a soft chuckle escapes his lips as he scrolls through the gallery, each image a testament to his infatuation. there you are, captured in various moments of joy and serenity, each picture a precious memento of his secret admiration. he traces his thumb over the screen, memorizing every curve of your smile, every glimmer in your eyes.

but even as he admires the images, a pang of guilt washes over him like a tidal wave. what right does he have to invade your privacy like this, to capture moments that were never meant for his eyes?

he knows he's crossing a line, but in this twisted game of love, there's no turning back.

he knows that he can't escape the truth: he's fallen too far, too deep, into the abyss of his own obsession.

after you finish your iced coffee, chuuya's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, committing every detail of your departure to memory. he watches as you rise from your seat, the movements of your body graceful and fluid, like a dancer on stage.

with practiced precision, chuuya slips out of his seat, blending seamlessly into the crowd as he follows you from a safe distance. his steps are silent, his presence nothing more than a whisper in the bustling cafe.

as you make your way down the street, chuuya matches your pace, his heart pounding in his chest with each beat. he knows where you're headed, knows the path you'll take like the back of his hand. after all, he's studied you for so long, memorized every detail of your routine.

but as he follows you, a sense of unease washes over him, a nagging voice in the back of his mind warning him of the dangers that lie ahead. he knows he should turn back, should leave you be and forget about his foolish obsession.

his knowledge of your exact routines and favorites guides his every move. he knows which streets you prefer to walk down, which cafes you frequent, and even your favorite spots to linger in the afternoon sun.

with each step, chuuya's mind replays the countless hours he's spent observing you, studying your habits like a scientist with their most precious specimen. he knows the way you take your coffee, the exact temperature you prefer, and the subtle nuances of your smile when you're lost in thought.

it's both exhilarating and terrifying, this intimate knowledge he holds of you. exhilarating because it makes him feel closer to you than anyone else, as if he's unlocked the secrets to your heart, and terrifying because it's a reminder of just how deeply his obsession runs, how far he's willing to go to make you his own.

memories of the lives he's taken, not just for the port mafia, but for you, flood his thoughts. he recalls the faces of those who dared to look at you the wrong way, the ones who tried to get too close, and the ones who posed even the slightest threat to your safety.

each life taken weighs heavily on his conscience, a burden he carries with him every moment of every day. but for chuuya, it's all been worth it, if only to ensure your safety, to keep you by his side, where he believes you belong.

but despite the turmoil raging within him, chuuya remains steadfast in his pursuit. he tells himself that it's all for love, that his actions are justified in the name of his undying devotion to you.

with your routines and preferences meticulously mapped out in his mind, chuuya takes a calculated step forward in his plan. his fingers trace over the smooth surface of your wallet, a small but crucial piece in his elaborate scheme. he holds it delicately, as if it were a precious treasure, knowing that it holds the key to unlocking a world of possibilities.

in his mind, he's already orchestrated every detail, every move carefully choreographed to bring his vision to life. he knows just how to use your wallet to his advantage, to create the perfect opportunity to insert himself into your life in ways you could never have imagined.

as he stands there, clutching your wallet in his hand, chuuya can't help but feel a sense of exhilaration coursing through his veins. this is his moment, his chance to finally make his mark on your world, to become an indispensable part of your life.

with a sly smile playing on his lips, chuuya sets the stage, laying the groundwork for his grand plan to unfold. and as he looks ahead to the future—you.

and so, with a sense of anticipation building within him, chuuya carefully approaches you, your wallet held securely in his hand. he waits for the perfect moment, when you're distracted by the hustle and bustle of the street, before making his move.

with a practiced ease, chuuya feigns surprise, his voice carrying a sense of urgency as he calls out to you. "excuse me, miss! you dropped your wallet!" he exclaims, his tone laced with concern as he holds out the wallet for you to see.

you turn to face him, a look of confusion flashing across your features before recognition dawns in your eyes, "oh, thank you so much!" you reply, relief evident in your voice as you reach out to take the wallet from his outstretched hand.

but before you can grasp it, huuya's eyes flicker down to the ID nestled inside, a triumphant smile playing on his lips as he takes note of your name. "i just happened to see your ID inside," he says smoothly, his tone casual as he returns the wallet to you.

as you take the wallet from him, chuuya can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over him. his plan is in motion, and soon, you'll be drawn into his world in ways you never thought possible.

a genuine smile brightens your face as you accept the wallet from chuuya's hand, gratitude evident in your every word, "thank you so much! i can't believe i almost lost it," you exclaim, your voice filled with relief as you carefully tuck the wallet back into your bag.

you continue to thank chuuya repeatedly, your words tumbling out in a rush as you express just how much the wallet means to you, "i have all my important cards and money in here, so it really means a lot," you explain, your tone sincere as you glance down at the wallet nestled safely in your possession.

chuuya listens to your ramblings with a sense of satisfaction, his heart swelling with pride at the thought of being able to help you in your time of need. he nods along, offering a reassuring smile as he basks in the warmth of your gratitude.

but beneath the facade of kindness lies a darker truth, a truth that chuuya dare not speak aloud. for in the depths of his obsession, there lies a hunger, a craving to possess you entirely. and as he watches you walk away, a sense of determination fills him, driving him ever closer to his ultimate goal.

with a silent vow, chuuya sets his sights on the future, his mind already spinning with plans to ensure that you'll never slip through his fingers again. and as he disappears into the crowd, a twisted smile plays on his lips, a silent promise of things to come.

in the days that follow, chuuya orchestrates his encounters with you with meticulous precision, each bump, each touch carefully calculated to bring him closer to you. he knows your favorite spots, your daily routines, and he uses this knowledge to his advantage.

with a seemingly innocent smile, chuuya "accidentally" brushes past you on the bustling streets, his heart racing with anticipation as he feels the warmth of your presence. he apologizes profusely, his tone genuine but his intentions hidden beneath layers of charm.

to any onlookers, it appears as though these encounters are nothing more than chance, mere coincidences in the chaos of everyday life. but to chuuya, each moment shared with you is a precious opportunity, a chance to inch closer to the object of his obsession.

as he continues to bump into you, chuuya finds himself drawn deeper into your world, his desire to be a part of your life growing with each passing day. he savors the fleeting moments of connection, each touch, each glance igniting a fire within him that refuses to be extinguished.

but behind the facade of innocence lies a darker truth, a truth that chuuya dare not confront. for in his quest to make you his own, he's willing to blur the lines between coincidence and manipulation, all in the name of love.

and as he walks away from each encounter, a sense of determination fills him, driving him ever closer to his ultimate goal. for chuuya knows that one day, he will no longer be a stranger in your life, but a permanent fixture, a part of your world in ways you could never have imagined.

as chuuya continues to orchestrate his encounters with you, he finds himself drawn deeper into the web of his own making. each "accidental" bump, each fleeting touch only serves to fuel his desire to be a part of your life.

one day, as he brushes past you on the crowded street, he can't help but let out a soft chuckle. "oops, my apologies," he says with a charming smile, his heart pounding with excitement at the closeness of your presence.

you offer a polite smile in return, but chuuya can see the curiosity in your eyes. "seems like we keep running into each other," you remark, a hint of amusement in your voice.

chuuya nods, playing along with the charade. "yes, it's quite the coincidence, isn't it?" he replies, his tone casual but his mind racing with thoughts of you.

you nod in agreement as well, a small smile playing on your lips as you acknowledge the repeated encounters. "yes, it does seem like fate keeps bringing us together," you say, your voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

chuuya's heart skips a beat at your words, his excitement bubbling beneath the surface as he struggles to contain his emotions. "perhaps it does," he replies, his voice smooth and reassuring, masking the turmoil brewing within him.

as days turn into weeks, chuuya finds himself unable to shake the desire to be closer to you.with each passing encounter, his longing only grows stronger, his need to unravel the mysteries of your life consuming him.

and so, when you cross paths once again, chuuya seizes the opportunity to take the next step, "say, how about we grab a coffee together?" he suggests, his voice casual but his eyes betraying a hint of eagerness.

you pause, considering his offer for a moment before nodding with a smile, "sure, i'd like that," you reply, your curiosity piqued by the prospect of getting to know him better.

chuuya's heart skips a beat at your acceptance, a surge of excitement coursing through him at the thought of spending more time with you. "great, i know a charming little cafe nearby," he says, his tone warm and inviting as he gestures for you to follow.

as you walk together, chuuya can't help but feel a sense of exhilaration at the prospect of getting to know you better. with each step, he finds himself growing more captivated by your presence, more determined to make you his own.

you enter the cozy cafe together, and chuuya can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within him.

as you sit across from chuuya in the quaint cafe, sipping your coffee, a sense of unease begins to gnaw at the edges of your mind. it's subtle at first, a nagging feeling that something isn't quite right, but as the conversation progresses, it grows stronger.

you can't help but notice how chuuya seems to know things about you before you even have a chance to tell him. he mentions your favorite coffee order, the book you're currently reading, even the name of your childhood pet.

it's all too familiar, too intimate for someone you've just met.

as the realization dawns on you, a chill runs down your spine. how could chuuya possibly know these things about you unless... unless he's been watching you, studying you in secret?

your heart pounds in your chest as you struggle to maintain your composure, your mind racing with questions and doubts. could it be possible that chuuya has been following you, observing you from afar, all this time?

the thought sends a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, the warm atmosphere of the cafe feels suffocating. tou find yourself growing wary of chuuya, his charming smile now tinged with a hint of menace in your eyes.

“oh, leaving so soon?” chuuya asks in a joking manner, yet you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as you crack a smile.

“mhm, i need to go now. let's see each other sometime again.. maybe..” you trail the last part in a soft murmur as you get up and take your bag with you.

as you excuse yourself from the table, promising to meet again soon, you can't help but feel a sense of relief at the prospect of escaping his presence.

however, as days pass, and days turn into weeks, the feeling of being watched weighs heavy on your mind. you notice chuuya lingering nearby whenever you leave your apartment, his presence a constant reminder of the unease that gnaws at you.

at first, you try to brush off your paranoia as mere coincidence. perhaps chuuya lives nearby, you tell yourself, or maybe he just happens to frequent the same places as you. but deep down, you know that something isn't right.

one evening, as you return home from work, you catch a glimpse of chuuya standing across the street from your apartment building. his eyes meet yours for a brief moment before he quickly looks away, but the intensity of his gaze sends a chill down your spine.

you try to shake off the feeling of dread that settles over you, telling yourself that you're being irrational. but as time go by and chuuya's presence becomes increasingly frequent, you can't help but feel like you're being watched, like every move you make is being scrutinized.

your once peaceful walks through the neighborhood now feel like a game of cat and mouse, with chuuya always lurking just out of sight. you find yourself constantly looking over your shoulder, jumping at every sound, every shadow that crosses your path.

chuuya curses himself for allowing his obsession to spiral out of control, for letting his actions make you grow increasingly paranoid. he knows he's been too showy, too careless in his pursuit of you, and now he's paying the price for his recklessness.

as he sits alone in his room, surrounded by the polaroid pictures he's taken of you, chuuya can't help but feel a sense of shame wash over him. each image serves as a painful reminder of his misguided attempts to win your affection, to make you see him as more than just a stranger.

he sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he stares at the photographs strewn across his bed. some are neatly arranged on his nightstand, next to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues, a stark reminder of the fantasies he's indulged in when he's alone.

as chuuya gazes at the polaroid pictures scattered across his bed, a mixture of longing and guilt washes over him. each image is a precious memento of his obsession, a snapshot of the moments he's stolen from you, captured forever in his memory.

he traces his fingers over the glossy surface of the photographs, his heart aching with desire as he recalls the stolen glances, the secret moments he's shared with you. there's one picture in particular that catches his eye, a snapshot of you in a cute sleepwear, your hair tousled and a peaceful expression on your face as you sleep.

chuuya's breath catches in his throat as he stares at the image, his mind flooded with forbidden fantasies of what he wishes he could do to you. he imagines himself by your side, his hands trailing over your soft skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your neck.

as chuuya sits alone in his room, the desire to possess you consumes him like a raging inferno. he can't help but imagine what it would be like to touch you, to caress your skin and hold you close, to shower you with all the love and affection he's been harboring inside.

his hands tremble with the intensity of his longing, his heart pounding in his chest as he pictures himself by your side, lost in a world of ecstasy. he can almost feel the warmth of your body pressed against his, hear the soft sighs of pleasure escaping your lips as he showers you with kisses.

he wanted you so bad, his longing bold,

to have and hold, his heart untold.

in his silent whispers, his desires unfold,

for you, his love, forever enfold.

you go about your daily routine, an unsettling feeling creeps over you, a sense of being watched that sends a chill down your spine. you glance around nervously, but there's nothing out of the ordinary—just the bustling city streets and the familiar faces of passersby.

but the feeling persists, growing stronger with each passing moment, until you can't shake the sensation that someone is following you, lurking in the shadows just out of sight. panic begins to rise within you, and without thinking, you break into a run, desperate to escape whoever—or whatever—is trailing after you.

your heart pounds in your chest as you dart down alleyways and side streets, your footsteps echoing in the empty night. every shadow seems to conceal a threat, every sound sending shivers down your spine as you try to outrun the invisible predator that hunts you.

but no matter how fast you run, you can't shake the feeling that you're being followed, that whoever is stalking you is always one step behind. It's a game of cat and mouse, predator and prey, and you're the unwitting victim caught in the crosshairs.

with each passing moment, the fear threatens to consume you, until you're left gasping for breath, your legs burning with exertion as you finally come to a stop, your back pressed against a cold brick wall. and as you glance around frantically, searching for any sign of your pursuer, a sinking feeling washes over you—you're trapped, with nowhere left to run.

you bolt off once more to run but you collide with someone in your frantic attempt to escape, panic courses through you like a bolt of lightning.

before you can react, strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close, and a hand clamps over your mouth, muffling any cries for help.

“no! m-mmph!” your muffled cries echoes.

your heart hammers in your chest as you struggle against your captor, but their grip is ironclad, unyielding in its hold. you thrash and kick, desperate to break free, but it's no use. whoever has you is stronger, more determined, and you're powerless to stop them.

"it's okay. come on, now," he hushes.

and then, as the initial shock begins to fade, a sense of dread washes over you as you realize the truth—you know this person.

it's chuuya, the very man you've been trying to escape from, the one who's been stalking you, hunting you like prey.

terror grips you like a vice as you meet chuuya's gray blue eyes, seeing the twisted desire burning within them. he's been watching you, following you, and now he's finally caught you, trapped you in his web of obsession.

you struggle to break free, to scream for help, but chuuya's hold on you is unrelenting. his grip tightens, his eyes blazing with a mixture of hunger and triumph, and you know that you're at his mercy, that there's no escape from the darkness that surrounds you.

chuuya's lips brush against the top of your head, his touch strangely tender despite the fear coursing through your veins, "shh, it's okay," he murmurs soothingly, his voice a soft whisper against your ear. "you're safe with me."

but his words offer little comfort as you continue to struggle against him, your cries muffled by his hand pressed firmly over your mouth. tears stream down your cheeks as you plead with him to let you go, your voice a desperate whimper in the darkness.

chuuya's grip tightens around you, his hold unyielding as he buries his face into your hair, inhaling your scent with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine. "god, you smell so sweet," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "i've been waiting so long for this moment, for the chance to finally be with you, [name],"

your pleas fall on deaf ears as chuuya continues to hold you tightly, his grip unyielding despite your frantic struggles. tears blur your vision as you beg him to release you, your voice trembling with fear and desperation.

"please," you whimper, your words muffled by his hand over your mouth, "let me go, please..."

but chuuya only hushes you sweetly, his touch surprisingly gentle against your skin, "shh, my love," he murmurs, his voice laced with a twisted affection. "don't be afraid. i'm here for you."

his words send a shiver down your spine, a chill of dread creeping into your heart. you know that you're in danger, that chuuya's intentions are far from pure, but you're powerless to stop him, trapped in his embrace with no hope of escape.

as you continue to struggle against him, chuuya's grip tightens, his hold becoming more possessive with each passing moment, "there's no need to be afraid," he whispers, his voice soft and soothing. "i'll take care of you, my darling. you'll see."

chuuya's lips brush against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he whispers softly, his voice tinged with a hint of madness, "do you think we'll be in love forever, my dear?"

he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, "now that i finally have you in my arms?"

"what the hell, chuuya!" was all you manage to say out as you squirm and thrash around.

you can feel his lips curve into a twisted smile as he speaks, his chuckle sending a chill down your spine. despite the fear coursing through your veins, you can't help but feel a sense of despair at his words, the realization sinking in that you're trapped in the clutches of a man consumed by his own obsession.

chuuya's grip tightens around you, his hold possessive as he continues to hold you close, "i know I'm no good for you," he admits with a gentle sigh, his voice filled with self-loathing, "and you're no good for me. but i can't help it—i love you too much to let go.”

chuuya's grip tightens around you as he senses your growing panic, his fingers pressing against your lips to silence any protest that threatens to escape, "hush now, my love," he whispers, his voice a soft murmur in the darkness, "there's no need to be afraid. i'll take care of everything, and that's a promise."

your thrashing and squirming only seem to amuse chuuya, his grip tightening around you as he watches your futile struggles with a twisted grin, "oh, my dear, you're so feisty," he chuckles softly, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "but i wouldn't recommend trying to escape. it would only make things... unpleasant."

his words are laced with a thinly veiled threat, and a chill runs down your spine as you realize the depths of his madness.

"you wouldn't want me to use gravity on you, baby? yeah?" he says, his voice still dripping with a promised threat, and for a second, you see a faint red glow surround his body.

you know that you're in grave danger, that chuuya's obsession has driven him to the brink of insanity, and now you're at his mercy, with no hope of escape.

as you continue to struggle against him, chuuya's grip tightens even further, his fingers digging into your flesh with a painful intensity, "you belong to me now," he whispers, his voice cold and menacing, "and if you try to fight me, i'll make sure you regret it."

tears stream down your cheeks as you apologize tearfully, the weight of chuuya's threats bearing down on you like a leaden weight.

"i-i'm sorry," you whimper, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. "please, i didn't mean to... i'll do whatever you want, just please don't hurt me..."

your words seem to have the desired effect on chuuya, his expression softening as he watches your tears fall, "there, there, my dear," he coos, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "no need to cry. everything will be alright, i promise."

but despite his soothing words, you can't shake the feeling of dread that lingers in the pit of your stomach. you know that chuuya's promises are empty, that his love is nothing more than a twisted obsession, and now you're trapped in his web, with no hope of escape.

as he continues to hold you close, you can't help but wonder—will you ever find a way to break free from his clutches, or are you doomed to be lost to his madness forever? only time will tell, but for now, all you can do is pray for a miracle to save you from the darkness that surrounds you.

you continue to find yourself trembling in fear, tears streaming down your cheeks as you lie beside chuuya in his bed after he had successfully kidnapped you, even with a bit of resistance from you. his arms wrap around you possessively, holding you close as if you were a prized possession.

your tearful eyes drift to the polaroid pictures scattered around the room, each one a haunting reminder of chuuya's twisted obsession with you. images of yourself captured in moments of vulnerability, stolen from your life without your knowledge or consent.

the realization hits you like a ton of bricks—chuuya has been stalking you for months, watching your every move, studying your habits and routines. the thought sends a shiver down your spine, the full extent of his obsession finally sinking in.

feeling your trembling form beside him, chuuya's expression softens with a mixture of concern and twisted affection. gently, he brushes his lips against your tears, kissing them away with a tenderness that belies the darkness lurking within him.

as he holds you close, his arms wrapped around you firmly, chuuya presses you closer to him, seeking to soothe your fear with his presence. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine.

"shh, my love," he murmurs softly, his voice a whispered promise in the darkness, "you're safe with me. i'll never let anything happen to you."

as chuuya's lips graze your neck in a twisted attempt at comfort, you can't help but shudder at his touch, the conflicting sensations of fear and longing warring within you.

tears continue to trickle down your cheeks as he trails kisses along your skin, his hands caressing your waist and back with a possessiveness that sends a chill down your spine.

you suppress a sob, the overwhelming sense of helplessness washing over you as you realize the depth of chuuya's obsession. despite the terror coursing through your veins, a part of you can't deny the twisted desire that stirs within you at his touch.

but as chuuya holds you close, his touch both comforting and suffocating, you can't help but wonder—how did it come to this? how did you become the victim in his twisted game of love and obsession? and as you lie there, tears staining your cheeks, you know that there are no easy answers, no simple explanations for the nightmare that has become your reality.

all you can do is pray for a miracle to save you from the darkness that surrounds you, to find a way to break free from chuuya's clutches before it's too late. but for now, all you can do is endure, as his kisses and caresses serve as a cruel reminder of the nightmare from which you may never wake.

chuuya's whispers of eternal love send a shiver down your spine, his words both comforting and chilling in their intensity, "we'll be in love forever, my dear," he murmurs softly, his voice tinged with a hint of madness, "even if i know you were no good for me, even if you've made me into someone i never thought i could be."

chuuya's voice breaks the silence once more, soft and earnest as he whispers those three words that hold so much weight.

"i love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, his gaze searching yours for any sign of reciprocation.

for a moment, the words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, and somehow, they stir something within you. despite the fear and uncertainty that grips your heart, a small spark of something akin to warmth begins to flicker deep inside.

you find yourself drawn to chuuya's sincerity, his vulnerability laid bare before you, and against your better judgment, you feel a glimmer of something stir within you—a faint echo of the love he professes.

chuuya's eyes search yours, a hint of desperation mingling with hope as he waits for your response, "do you love me back?" he asks, his voice trembling with anticipation, his heart hanging in the balance.

caught off guard by his question, you feel a surge of conflicting emotions swirling within you. fear and uncertainty vie for dominance, but deep down, there's a part of you that longs for the safety and security that chuuya offers, twisted though it may be.

and so, despite the doubts that linger in the depths of your mind, you find yourself nodding in agreement, your voice barely above a whisper as you reply, "yes, i do."

chuuya's lips curl into a tender smile as he hears your response, a sense of relief washing over him at your agreement, "you're such a good girl," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with affection as he continues to hold you close to his chest.

he brushes a strand of hair away from your face with tender eyes as he kisses your cheek this time before he rests his forehead against yours.

as you lie together in his bed, the tension that had gripped you beginning to ease, chuuya hums softly, the sound soothing and melodic. it's as if he's trying to lull you to sleep, to erase the fear and uncertainty that still linger in the air.

it's a strange sensation, given the circumstances, but somehow, you can't help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence.

you listen to the sound of his voice, the rise and fall of each note, and with each passing moment, the fear and uncertainty that had gripped you begin to fade away, replaced by a strange sense of tranquility.

as the background noise seems to fade into the distance, you find yourself drawn to the steady rhythm of chuuya's humming, the sound wrapping around you like a warm embrace. with each note, you feel yourself sinking deeper into a sense of calm, your mind finally quieting after hours of turmoil.

closing your eyes, you lean into chuuya's touch, feeling the warmth of his forehead against yours, a silent reassurance of his presence. in this moment, it's as if you've accepted your fate.

ᡣ𐭩 TAGGING: @cheriiyaya @aureatchi @little-miss-chaoss @narosick

#bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd fanfic #bsd chuuya #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #chuuya scenarios #yandere chuuya #chuuya x fem!reader #bungou stray dogs x you #yandere chuuya x reader

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seancekitsch · 18 days

Note

Hazbin Hotel—Lucifer x Reader where he’s a love struck fool for reader? May or may not be inspired by that little imagine you posted not too long ago \(//∇//)\

uhhh this kinda got away from me. enjoy!!

You’d have to be a fool not to notice how the King of Hell acts around you, even Angel and Husk told you that. But you’re not blinded to situation, you know exactly what’s going on. You rest your elbow on the bar next to Angel as Charlie gathers the hotel residents and staff, a job not unlike herding cats. Everyone trickles in slowly, waiting for the next odd trust bond activity Charlie has come up with now. Last week was heartfelt letter writing, and the three of you at the bar had not taken it seriously. You handed Husk a comedic inner monologue about how much you needed to pee, Husk handed Angel a surprisingly detailed made up story about a talking whisky bottle, and Angel handed you a list of what roles he’d cast the entire hotel in a porno.

“What do you think they’ll have us do this time?” Husk mumbles to you, topping off your drink.

“Honestly, not a fan of the way Princess is smiling right now,” you answer.

Charlie waves everyone over, and Vaggie smiles uncomfortably, ready for everyone to start.

“Okay Good Afternoon,” Charlie starts, practically bouncing, “Today we’re going to try to form new bonds!”

Immediately, she’s met with groaning and mumbling, but thats never stopped her and it won’t today either.

“So what better way to do that then having a buddy for the next twenty four hours!” She shouts, and Vaggie’s face immediately makes sense.

“I’ve separated everyone from their regular group so they can build these bonds and be open!”

“…got something you could open…” you hear Angel mumble under his breath.

Charlie gives her dad a thumbs up.

“The first pairing is… my dad and Y/n!”

The Morningstar family sucks at being subtle or lying.

“So what did you have planned for the day?” Lucifer asks while sitting beside you, his voice short and clipped, his entire demeanor like he’s on high alert. It’s cute, really.

“Ah don’t worry about it,” you shrug, “What does the areat King of Hell do with his day?”

Lucifer rubs his neck, fidgeting under your question.

“It’s not… Its not actually all that interesting,” he admits, “You’ve probably got something cooler going on.”

There’s something he’s avoiding besides your gaze, but you don’t press the issue.

You look across the lobby to Angel, who pauses his conversation with Vaggie to mouth something that looked like the word “fart” to you, and then wink.

Your art gallery. Right.

“Have you ever been to Pentagram City’s biggest art gallery?” you ask him.

Lucifer is a gentleman. You understand how he stole the first man’s first two wives from him. Sure, he’s stumbling and stuttering and a nervous wreck, but he’s holding doors open for you and asking about your thoughts and feelings about the pieces on display, he’s accidentally on purpose almost held your hand three times now. Next time he does it, you’re just going to grab his damn hand.

You stare at the sculpture in front of you, noting that you should have someone move this to a different room. In fact, there’s a few things you’ve noticed while showing Lucifer the art that you should have moved around. Maybe you’ve been neglecting the gallery a bit more than you thought now that you live at the hotel.

“Hey, Can I ask you about these?” Lucifer’s voice booms from the next room over. Sighing, you type a quick note into your V-Phone and turn.

Oh shit.

Lucifer found THAT room.

You cross the threshold into the room you never go into, the room with your own work. Honestly, it’s not even curated the way the other rooms and floors are. This is where you put anything that you think can leave your studio. He’s in front of one of your biggest paintings, and one of your newest. It’s an abstract piece about your feelings about redemption, about your past sins, about adjusting to the hotel. Which it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but it made sense in the moment and you’re proud of it.

He turns and smiles before looking back at the painting.

“Is the uh, is the artist willing to sell this piece?” he asks, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red.

Now it’s your turn to get nervous. You’ve never actually sold any of your own pieces before.

“I uh- I’m not gonna sell it to you,” you tell him, “You can have it.”

It would be weird to take money from Lucifer, even if he is offering. You like him a decent amount and a transaction between the two of you would make it weird. It would feel like you owe him, even though your art would technically satisfy that. If he was one of the Vees or someone you dislike, you would have immediately taken money.

“But the artist-“

“Me,” you clarify, and you finally remember you don’t tag your own art. Lucifer’s jaw drops at your admission.

“I’d really like to support your work, it’s magnificent,” Lucifer insists, and you feel your cheeks burning. He turns to gesture to another piece, and his knuckles brush your own.

Fuck it. You told yourself you’d do it. You grab Lucifer’s hand in your own, a bold move.

“Just think about it as a gift,” you tell him, “A thank you for the lovely day we’ve had.”

You inwardly cringe, knowing that when you recount today at the lobby bar your drinking buddies are going to tear you a new one for that corny line. But it fits for Lucifer; he’s bringing out a side of you that you really haven’t seen in a while.

“Thank you uh, gorgeous,” he tacks on the pet name like even he isn’t sure about it, and with his hand still in yours, attempts to lean against a sculpture, stumbling as he misses it and bringing you along with him. He tugs you by the arm, jerking you closer to him. He’s majorly out of practice.

“I have a studio upstairs if you want to see more?” you offer, not really sure if you thought that through.

“More art? Absolutely!” He recovers quickly, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.

You smile as you pull him towards the hallway, butterflies in your stomach as it dawns on you that he’s going to be the only person besides you to see the studio.

You and Lucifer end up staying there until Charlie calls him the next morning.

You notice paint on his chin after you get back to the hotel.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

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tobytost · 11 months

Text

probably never going to finish it, but it’s been sitting in my gallery for too long now

#my art #quinobi #quinlan vos #obi wan kenobi #padawan obi wan #padawan quinlan vos #star wars #star wars prequels

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kangnina · 1 month

Text

MDNI

a/n: I recommend reading Roomie!Sunoo first but it’s not necessary.

Sunoo can’t sleep knowing that you are lowkey fiending for him just on the other side of the wall that separates your bedrooms. He grabs his phone off his nightstand and opens the photo gallery for at least the 20th time today. The first picture being a page from your journal he accidentally read a few days ago. All of your dirty little secrets hidden in what looked like a college textbook on your desk. But only these words are haunting him right now. He whispers them to himself: "I’m so pathetic, thirsting over my best friend. But he’s just so damn gorgeous. I bet his cock is pretty too." There’s no way he could have misunderstood your words. Sunoo thought he made it clear to you that he wanted you too. He finger-fucked you in his studio while you wore a dress he made just for you. That should have changed everything. Yet here he is, one day later– bricked up and lonely. Beyond frustrated with himself actually. I should have fucked her. Sunoo didn’t want to push you too hard, too fast out of nowhere. After all, you still don’t know that he knows you really do want him and his “pretty” cock.

-----------------

You stare at the ceiling, replaying yesterday’s events in your mind. Did that really even happen? The custom-made dress hanging on your closet door suggests that you didn’t have one of your delusional dreams about Sunoo again. Maybe you should talk to him– Not a weird confession of how you’ve been madly in love with him for years. But you should at least stop avoiding him. He is your roommate and your friend. This awkward silence can’t go on forever… A gentle knock on your bedroom door pulls you out of your thoughts. Your heart races. Guess now’s as good a time as any.

“Yeah?” you say softly.

“Can I come in?” Sunoo asks through the door.

“Yeah,” you repeat, unable to think of any other word at the moment. You sit up in your bed as he slowly opens the door and flicks on the light switch. Your eyes take a moment to adjust as Sunoo sits down on your bed. He smiles only slightly but he doesn’t speak. Your mind is going crazy with the possibilities of how terribly this could go. It isn’t until he lays back on his elbows that you notice the bulge in his sweatpants. He gently brushes his bangs out his eyes as he watches you. When you realize you’re staring at his erection, your eyes meet his again and he smiles mischievously. Sunoo slowly pulls his shirt up, revealing his toned stomach. Both hands reach down to slowly peel his sweatpants and briefs down his legs to be discarded on the floor. He rests back on one elbow while slowly, gently rubbing his fingers along his hardened shaft. His lips part with a quiet moan and he looks over at you again. Still neither of you has said a word. But you both seem to know this is exactly what you wanted. You stand up and kneel on the floor between Sunoo’s legs. Connecting with his eyes, you feel nervous, aroused, excited … all at once. You’re holding your breath and you didn’t even know it. So you take a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. He stops touching his cock and leans back, enjoying the look of awe on your face as you carefully study his cock. It really is pretty. Clean shaven. Curving just a little to the left. Slender with a large vein running along either side. Flushed pink. Round head. Long slit weeping pre-cum. A cute little mole just to the right of the base and another just above his slit. You touch it and he softly moans.

“Take your time, love. Worship it. From top to bottom. Every inch.” He confidently instructs you. You slowly nod as if completely in a trance. You rub the pre-cum oozing from the tip with your index finger, tracing down the veins. Sunoo grabs one of your pillows to prop his head up as he watches you meticulously massage his balls, lick and tease up and down his shaft. You kiss the tip of his cock gently. You’ve never been so intoxicated by the scent of soap on someone until now. You love having him inside your mouth. You maintain eye contact with Sunoo hoping your eyes are telling him everything you feel for him. The room is quiet but for his soft moans and the wet slurps and smacks of your mouth all over him.

“Talk to me, baby. Use your words. What’s going on in the pretty head, hmm?” He raises an eyebrow as he reaches to gently stroke your cheek.

“I– I love everything about your cock,” you finally confess, extinguishing the last ember of doubt between you and Sunoo. This beautiful man offered himself up to you like no one has before. Your pussy is wet and your heart is exploding with love for him.

“I love worshiping your cock.” You say as you lock eyes with him.

“Fuck.” Sunoo growls at your words. He sits up and pulls your shoulders with both of his hands, urging you to stand up. He roughly tugs your pajamas pants and panties down, surprising you with his sudden impatience and intensity. You step out of them. Sunoo pulls you down to straddle over his lap, lining himself up to your entrance.

“Never be ashamed to tell me what you want, Princess,” he says as he thrusts into your tight, slippery pussy.

Roomie!Sunoo 3

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bonny-kookoo · 6 months

Text

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | Welcome Home [Request]

Jungkook can't remember the last time you've been apart for so long. And with you gone, he might just go crazy- or make odd spontaneous decisions.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, they're so goofy, so much love, smut, lube? is that a warning?, bare sex (MC has an IUD), Jungkook got a haircut bc his girl was not around to make him contemplate his decisions before making them

Requested by: Miriwe on Patreon

Length: 2k words

-> Masterlist

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"I'm gone three days and you're already going crazy apparently." You laugh as you walk into the living room, where Jungkook is sitting on the couch, not having heard you walk in it seems like.

He immediately pauses his game to jump over the back of the furniture, almost tripping as he runs to you, picking you up to hold you close.

"Of course I went crazy!" He laughs, putting you down to your feet again to kiss you. "Had to spend three days in an empty bed without my fiancé." He laughs into his kisses, and you giggle. "Why didn't you tell me you were back? I would've picked you up from the airport." He whines a bit childishly, while you just shrug.

"Nah, would've caused too much of a commotion." You deny, reminding him of the fact that he's always causing some chaos whenever he's seen in public. "But putting that aside, when did you buzz it off?" You ask, fingers curiously running over the shaven sides of his head.

"Yesterday, actually." He chuckles. "My hair was getting in the way." He shrugs.

"So you decided 'oh yeah, I'm just gonna get even hotter while my girlfriend is away with her parents' like, excuse me?" You scold playfully.

"Fiancé, first of all, and I guess that already answers the question if it suits me." He laughs, happily correcting you in your own title.

"Ah, I can't believe I'm gonna get married to you." You swoon teasingly, smacking his chest once. "Now lemme go, I'm hungry." You say- but he's not letting you go at all. If anything, he pulls you even closer to himself.

"I'm hungry too." He tells you instead. You look at him in confusion.

"Okay? Then let me cook, idiot." You say, but he shakes his head.

"Nop." He denies, before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom, hand loudly smacking your ass.

"Jeon Jungkook, no!" You laugh. "Please, I'm so jetlagged from the flight-" You complain, but he lets you down gently on the unmade bed, sheets unruly from his nightly rest. He's not really been sleeping well without you home- the three days of not having you around truly reminding him of just how much he needs you in his life.

Not just to keep order, but in general.

As odd as it sounds, he even caught himself multiple times the first day calling out to you, just to remember you're not home. His mind expected you in bed, in the kitchen, in the living room, every single time he'd enter the room- and the kitchen felt lonely, suffocating, with no company but the buzzing fridge and ticking cat-shaped clock on the wall. His house suddenly felt.. bland.

Especially on the second day, when he came out of the shower just to find the bed cold and empty, he found himself sitting on the edge of it, looking through pictures of you and him on his phone, browsing his gallery for hours until he finally fell asleep. It was a reminder, those few days. A reminder that he needs you, that you're a part of his life he can't really bear to not have around anymore.

A reminder that he made the right decision in asking you to marry him, entering the final stage of your relationship.

"I'll do all the work baby." He purrs, crawling over you as you stretch your limbs, visibly relaxing in the familiar home once more. "How was your trip?" He wonders, and you laugh, his hands helping you out of your sweater.

"Kook, I love you, but I'm not talking about my goddamn parents when we're about to have sex." You complain, and he chuckles, nodding.

"Alright, you got a point." He admits, pulling down your pants and socks to kiss up your leg. "I missed you so much." He hums against your skin, and you smile, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair.

"So much so you buzzed your hair off?" You laugh, and he nods, teasingly biting at your thigh.

"Exactly." He agrees. "Would've gone bald if you'd stayed away a day longer." He says, lips traveling up your stomach before his hands cup your chest, running over to the back of your body to unhook your bra.

"Oh no!" You jokingly exclaim. "But honestly I think your face makes every haircut work. Even that Dora-the-Explorer situation you had a year back." You say, making him roll his eyes as he throws your bra down carelessly.

"Stop bringing that up." He complains, and you laugh brightly so.

"But it's funny!" You tell him, before he bites at your chest. "Hey, stop biting!" You giggle.

"Stop biting~!" He mimics you, before he moves to kiss your neck. "As if you don't love it." He purrs.

"Caught me." You reply, legs moving already to wrap around him. "Now get naked, nerd." You flirt, and he can't help the laugh that escapes him.

"Can we be romantic at least once?" He whines, leaning back to rid himself of his shirt and pants.

"No, you'd burn the house down with those yankee-candles you got." You threaten, and he rolls his eyes yet again, opening the bedside drawer to search for a small bottle of scented lube, just in case.

"You really have no trust in me, baby." He shakes his head, putting the little plastic bottle on the side for now as he moves to pull your panties from your legs. "What if I used electrical ones?" He proposes. "Turn on some music. Cigarettes after sex- like, the band, not me smoking." He corrects.

"Obviously." You hum. "I'd leak your nudes if you smoked inside the house." You sigh, and he looks at you for a moment.

"That's a joke, right?" He asks, and you shrug, smiling at him. "That's a joke. You're joking." He states once more, but still, you don't answer. The funny part is that deep down, he actually believes you would indeed do that. You're a wildcard after all- he never really knows if what you say is a joke or an actual fact you state.

Like when you said that he was fine accompanying his friend to his bachelor party, which was held at a nightclub, naked dancers included. You'd simply told him to have fun, but eat at home- and while for a moment or two, he didn't really know what you meant, he realized it soon after. You had no issue taking a look- hell, you constantly told him that some of the other racers were 'pretty hot', but he knows you'd never go after anyone but him. You might get your appetite up, yes-

but you eat at home.

"Jungkook you've never even sent me nudes you idiot!" You laugh after a moment of watching him clearly contemplating his life-choices up until now, finally realizing that you're right. "Or did you sent someone else some, huh?" You suddenly threaten, foot against his abs keeping him away from you while you glare.

"Absolutely not." He shakes his head immediately. "You can bet your pretty ass on that." He says, as you remove your leg from him, hands now reaching out, inviting him back in. "Only got you-" He hums towards you, kissing your lips hungrily. "Only need you." He finishes, and you sigh, hands on his arms.

"Missed you." You admit. "Couldn't sleep well at all." You say, and he smiles.

"Me neither." He shakes his head. "Thought about you way too much." Jungkook tells you, while his hand travels between your legs, touch reviving your soul it feels like as he works you up.

"We're so in love, it's actually kinda disgusting." You laugh, and he joins in on that.

"Nah." He denies. "We're just the definition of love." He shrugs, curling his fingers inside you, making you arch your back.

"Jungkook please-" You whine. "Stop teasing me, I'm way too horny now!" You complain, and he grins, moving to stroke his length with the hand still covered in your arousal.

He's just as impatient, but he also knows he needs to prep you well. Years of being in a relationship with you also comes with in-depth knowledge of your body, and how to love you just right. You might not realize it sometimes, but he knows that if he doesn't pay good attention to detail, you'll be sore tomorrow-

and he plans on making up for those three days, just to remind you what you've been missing.

He reaches for the tiny bottle on the bedside table to squeeze some of the clear liquid out, making sure to make it as comfortable as possible for you, before he lines himself up with your entrance, moving your legs up a little to pull you closer. It's been something you've been quite insecure about- having refused to admit to him for months that he's packing a bit too much for you to handle without any help sometimes, and he's felt bad that you thought you couldn't tell him. Back then, he'd been insecure himself- with no prior knowledge about anything regarding sex, you've been both a little lost in translation on some occasions.

There's been more than a handful of awkward moments during your times together- and by now, you're both comfortable to the point where nothing is weird any longer.

The sweet smell of sweet strawberries fills the air faintly as he pushes himself in, sighing in bliss at the familiar feel of your body welcoming him. "Good?" He asks you, and you nod, making him tap your nose so you open your eyes again. "Really?" He asks again, and you move a bit now, nodding. It's the confirmation he needed to start moving, leaning back on his heels to roll his hips forwards, your lower body resting over his thighs as he keeps you elevated like that with his hands holding your legs. You've got your arms relaxed into the pillows over your head, eyes closed as your chest sways with every thrust he delivers.

He loves having you back. Not just your body- but you, in general.

"I wanna come with you next time." He tells you, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs. "Don't care if they like me or not." He growls, never slowing down his pace.

"Jungkookie~!" You whine, before laughing. "What did I say literally- like- twenty minutes ago?" You complain, and he laughs too, nodding.

"Sorry, sorry." He apologizes, letting go of your legs to lean over you, kissing you once more. It's the only way he knows he'll shut up for long enough- there's just so much rushing through his head, everything that's happened in those three days trying to break out his mouth just to talk to you- because he can talk to you now. You're back home, and he just missed you so fucking much.

Now, of course you talked over the phone daily, sure. But it's just not the same. It's not close enough.

Right now, he's out of breath, forced to part from you just a little, leaning his face into the crook of your neck as he presses his pelvis into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close, arms around his neck keeping him from parting from you. "I love you so much." He hums against your skin, picking up his pace, exhaling through his nose as his jaw clenches, orgasm approaching quickly. His hand assists you by finding your most sensitive spot, pushing you over the edge so he can let go as well, your core clenching around his length to keep him in, milk him for all he's got.

He's out of breath, and so are you- his body simply laying down close to you, moving you around to lay over him, still inside you. "Kook, I'm sticky-" You whine, but he just smiles, hands smacking your butt. "Jungkook!" You scold, laughing, and he simply reaches for your face, to peck your lips.

Twice. Because once is just never enough.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic

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scarletlizzard · 3 months

Text

Part 2: Remembering

Sessions Series

Pairing: psychiatrist Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: therapy, paranoia, mentions of mental illness, stalker, little cigarettes and drinking at the end

Masterlist

Current Fall 2018

"How did you sleep?" Wanda asks as she sits in front of you. You shrug, putting your hands in the pocket of your hoodie.

"Not too great. I uh, I sometimes have these dreams. Nightmares really, about that night." You swallow hard and look at the breathtaking woman in front of you. Even casual, in a yellow sweater and jeans, she would always be the most beautiful woman in the room. You blush at your own thoughts.

"You said you don't remember everything about that night?" She asks, you nod. "I believe you're blocking it out, mentally. Suppressing a trauma so hard you can't get yourself to open back up about it."

"So you believe me?"

"Of course, I believe you." Her tone is wavering.

"Every time I have one of these dreams, it reveals little pieces to me," you lean forward. "Maybe I can remember who it was, or more about them."

"But they were wearing a mask?" Wanda asks, making a note. You nod.

"They spoke to me, though.. I'm not sure. Sometimes they feel so close," you sigh, shaking your head. Wanda is still writing.

"And what did your shadow say to you?"

"They told me to run."

Wanda is silent for a moment, her eyes searching yours for something. Did she really believe you? When she had a list of your mental disorders and police forms at her fingertips?

"When your shadow told you to run," She stands and looks to the fire that was burning behind her in the fireplace. Her hands held behind her back. "What did you feel in the moment? What was your first thought?"

"I-I didn't know what to feel. Panic? Fear?" Your cheeks heat up, as you think back to the haunting voice. You were almost too embarrassed to speak. "But after, after the fear sunk in it felt.. exhilarating."

Wanda smiles at the fire, her back still to you. "So in your fear you felt, excitement. For what, why?" She asks thoughtfully, and you're thankful she still had her back to you.

You had thought about this a long time, every day. Why? "My life is the same, every day. The routines, the job, the same bottle of wine. Everything. You know I used to paint?" You ask Wanda. She turns to look at you.

"Really?" She asks with a smile, sitting back down.

"I had some work in an art gallery actually, in the city. Back when I felt.. more alive," you sigh again, looking into her emerald eyes.

"What made you stop?"

"My mom got sick, I had to take care of her. Then she died and I moved here and.. things were never the same."

"Your OCD intensified, essentially trapping yourself in your daily routines."

"That's how it feels, yes," you reply with a nod. Wanda reaches her hand out to rest on your knee. Your skin ignites under her touch.

"We'll bring you back," Wandas words are sure, you find yourself resting your hand on top of hers.

***

Summer 2017

You ran throughout your house, footsteps following close behind you. Before you can close the door to your bedroom, a strong hand reaches out, hitting the wood hard and swinging it wide open. You fall to the ground, heart racing, chest moving rapidly as you crawl backwards. Your shadow steps closer, taking 4 heavy steps towards you.

Another head tilt down at you, examining you. Behind the mask, under the hood, red strands of hair peak out.

***

Current Fall 2018

You stared at the brunette in front of you, a playful glint in her eye. "What?" She asks, leaning forward.

It had been a couple of weeks since your sessions with Wanda had started. Your anxiety had taken a backseat, and the compulsive thoughts in your head were easing. The two of you had even been flirting back and forth even, lingering stares and touches.

Wanda knew it was unprofessional. You knew it wasn't right. But neither of you couldn't help it. Each time she touched you, you felt your skin ignite. Each crooked smile ran up your spine with a shiver of pleasure. You look at her hands and count 4 rings between the two of them.

"Nothing, I really shouldn't say," you chuckle to yourself and sit back against the couch. Wanda grins, twirling one of the rings on her finger.

"No point in being shy now, Y/N. We practically know each others whole lives at this point," She says casually and mirrors you, leaning back in her chair. You think about her words.

"Actually, I don't know much about you, Wanda. I mean, I know some details, but you seem to have the upper hand."

She chuckles and lifts out a hand as if offering to you, "Ask away."

"Where are you from? I notice on some of your words, there's an accent." There's a blush on your face as you think of the way she says your name, her tongue sharp.

"Ah, you caught that, huh? I was born in Sokovia. I've lived here most of my life, though, the American accent kind of snuck in," Wanda thinks fondly of her home, it makes you smile.

"Do you visit often?"

"Not as much as I'd like. Last year, I had to go home for quite a while to help out my brother, Pietro. He got himself into some trouble," Wanda sighs and shakes her head. "We're twins," she smiles.

"Twins! Wow, I'd love to see a picture of the two of you sometime." You think of Wanda being a twin, not being able to imagine he was anything like her. She nods and crosses her legs.

"I'll see if I can find one for your next session," She says with a smile. You nod and smile back politelty.

"What did you do before all this?" You ask her and point to the room around you.

"I lived in the city for a while, actually. But I found something more... worthwhile here." Wanda grins, goosebumps on your arm arise.

There's a comfortable silence, and the fire behind her crackles softly.

"Tell me more about your art," Wanda says, a glimmer in her eye and a warm smile on her face.

"I wasn't good, by any means. But I wasn't bad. I was creative, if anything," you laugh as you think back to your paintings. "There is one hung still, I think, at the gallery I told you about. It's my favorite one. My last one."

"What was it?"

You find yourself laughing hysterically as you think of the painting, leaving Wanda confused. She leans forward to rest a hand on your knee.

You start to sob at her touch.

You think of the large painting that hangs in a gallery. People passing by not realizing it would foreshadow your own current state.

"It's of a beautiful woman.." You speak between cries.

"A woman running from her own shadow."

***

Summer 2017

"What do you want from me? Just leave me alone!" You shout at the figure standing above you, watching as they shake their head.

The shadow kneels down, a gloved hand reaching up to brush their thumb across your lips. Their eyes are hidden behind the white faceless mask, yet you can feel their gaze burning into you.

A spark of adrenaline and excitement fill your own.

"Game on," your shadow says.

***

Current Winter 2018

You awoke quickly in sweat covered sheets, thunder rumbling from outside. You rub your groggy eyes and reach for the nightstand to flick on the lamp. Your hand reaches for the notebook and pen you kept for this reason, and you began writing down your dream.

They were happening more frequently now. The details are becoming clearer each time. You had never felt so close. You were closing in on your shadow.

Yet, everything felt wrong. There was something you were missing. You read and re read the journal the rest of the night.

"How are things going with Wanda?" Natasha asks over lunch. She had invited you out today, hoping to hear some good news.

"Pretty great, actually," you smile at her, not telling her that you were still chasing your shadow. "I've actually started painting again." You look outside the window of the Cafe, seeing snow begin to fall.

"Have you really?" Natasha says in disbelief, but a smile on her face. "I knew this would be good for you! Almost two months and look at the progress you've made.." She beams at you, a guilty feeling rising inside of you.

"I'm having my Christmas party early this year, I'm going to spend actual Christmas at Yelenas this year. You'll be able to come, right?"

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it," you smile, counting 4 snowflakes land on the window.

As you walk home from lunch, the snow beneath your feet crunches with every step. You wrap your arms around yourself, wishing you had worn a warmer jacket, when suddenly you're aware of another set of steps from behind you.

You freeze, standing still. You inhale deeply, then exhale, and slowly turn around... to nothing. Empty air besides the light snow that stuck to the ground below.

Your hand reaches for your phone, dialing Wandas number. "Hello?" She answers on the 4th ring.

"Wanda.. can I come see you?"

"Do you need me to meet you somewhere?"

You look around, still seeing no one.

"No, I'll come to you."

You finish the walk home and grab your notebook and a warmer jacket before driving over to Wandas. When you get there, she's standing on the porch waving to you.

"Y/N, is everything okay?" She asks worridly, putting her arm around you and leading you into the warmth of her home. Wanda gets a fire going and watches as you sit on the floor in front of it. Instead of questioning it, she sits next to you, her warm body pressed next to you.

"What if it isn't real?" You finally admit, staring into the red and orange flames.

"What if what isn't real?" Wanda asks, looking at the notebook you clutched to your chest.

"My shadow," you whisper, feeling Wandas hand on your back. "You told me you believed me.. what do you believe?"

There is a silence between the two of you while Wanda sighs. She knew you would eventually ask this question.

"I believe that the mind is an extremely powerful thing. It's capable of persuasion and delusions. It can hide the truth from you.." she trails off, tears fall from your eyes.

She didn't believe your shadow was real.

"You believe... that I believe it's real. Right?" You ask and turn to her. Wanda nods slowly.

All this time spent chasing and running, you were tired. How many innocent people would have to get hurt before you gave up? How many more lies would you have to tell yourself and others?

You held out the notebook to Wanda. Her fingers brush against yours as she takes it from you and opens it up.

"My dreams, of a faceless shadow. That's all it is anymore. I'm done chasing it."

The rest of November passes quickly into December. You were back to your routine, ignoring the paranoid delusions of your mind. You continued your sessions with Wanda, trying to figure out why you had imagined up this person. You took medication. You still locked all the doors and windows. You painted. You dreamed.

***

Summer 2017

When the words came out of your shadows' mouth, you lift your leg, kicking them hard in the stomach and onto their back. You're able to run past them into the hallway, but you're quickly knocked down. Your shadow climbs on top of you, pinning your hands to the floor and straddling your stomach.

The two of you breathe heavily, adrenaline coursing your veins. "Such a pretty little mouse.." The shadow whispers.

***

Winter 2018

The party has long started by the time you walk in, a bottle of rum in your hand. The house is filled with familiar and unfamiliar faces. People in ugly Christmas sweaters, some in just red or green. You look for Natasha and wish her a Happy Christmas, along with a hug.

"I brought rum," you smile, holding up the bottle.

"Yes! Ugh, you know this is my favorite thank you," she laughs and hugs you again, clearly has already had a few. You decide to catch up with her, taking a few shots and pouring a cup of rum. After a while, the cup is empty, and you find yourself sweating in the heated house, filled with warm bodies.

"I'm gonna step outside," you say to Natasha, who is all but preoccupied with the girl in her lap.

You step out front, sighing in relief as the frigid air hits your skin.

"Alright, there?" A voice sounds, you turn to see Wanda standing in the driveway, leaning against her car. "Nasty habit, I know. I usually only smoke when I drink." She holds up the cigarette, letting out a puff of smoke.

You walk over, soaking in her appearance. "I'm alright.. alcohol goes straight to my head," You chuckle and stand in front of her. The alcohol also boldening you to reach out and take the cigarette from her, putting it between your lips. Wanda watches with playful eyes, putting a hand in her pocket. You take a slow drag, blowing into the air between you and handing it back to her.

Wanda wets her lips, shaking her head as she takes it back from you. "You're something else, you know that?" She says in a husky voice. You can smell a hint of vodka and mint coming from her as she leans closer. Your hands rest on her chest, tugging on her jacket. A familiar excitement swells in your chest.

The cigarette is tossed into the wet snow, her hands moving to wrap around your lower back. "I'm probably crazy," you whisper to her, a smirk on your face. Wanda chuckles and leans closer.

"I can deal with crazy," She whispers back, taking your bottom lip in between her teeth. Your blood runs hot, and you let out a small moan at the feeling. Wanda wastes no time connecting her lips to yours, both of you in familiar territory as your tongues sloppily twist together. Her grip is stronger than you remember as she pulls you against her chest.

"Your place?" You mumble into the kiss, not wanting to fully part. Wands hums and continues to kiss you. You feel her lips pull up into another crooked smile.

"Let's go," Wanda says after she finally pulls herself away from your lips, her green eyes darker than you had ever seen them before.

Goosebumps cover your skin. Everything in your body tells you to run. The feeling of your shadow was looming over the two of you.

You look to the house, then to the gorgeous brunette in front of you. There was no doubt in your mind that you would be going home with her.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen

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