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sc0tters · 7 months

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Faking It | Jack Hughes

summary: when Jack learns that his girlfriend faked her response in bed the previous night, it can only ever land up with them back in bed as he gives her a time she couldn’t possibly fake.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem receiving), use of vibrator, bondage, ice play, swearing.

word count: 2.49k

authors note: surprised I got this one out today if I’m being honest. @hischierhaze said I can blame her for my lack of a filter for this and @sweetestdesire just told me to tag her. This is what happens when I am left unattended to do things… with that being said I hope you enjoy what came from this prompt!

The sound of your headboard hitting the wall rang through your ears.

Jack held your legs around his waist “right there baby.” Jack grunted dropping his head so that his lips could kiss at your collar bone.

Even with his lips sucking at the sweet spot of your skin you couldn’t seem to get his cock to hit the spot that you needed him in “fuck Jack.” Your cry was more so out of discomfort as a cramp formed in your thigh officially meaning that you had lost any chance of having a good night with your boyfriend.

The hockey player had come home after a long road trip and he wanted nothing more than you and your bed. But all you wanted to do was sleep after a long day at work “you want to be a good girl and come for me?” Jack asked as you clenched your pussy around his cock.

You knew that he was close by how his cock throbbed from inside of you and you knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle it if you didn’t come tonight “shit yeah.” You forced your breath to go airy as your hands reached up to tease your nipples in the hopes that it would help build some pressure in your stomach.

As Jacks grunts began to grow stuttered you decided that then was your chance to act like you came “oh my god Jack,” you huffed your chest making it sound like you had just ran a marathon.

Jack rode out his orgasm before he flopped onto the bed next to you “you were so good baby.” You couldn’t even remain upset for long as the hockey player hooked his fingers under your jaw so he could pull you into a kiss.

After last nights disappointments you invited some friends over to full up your time before Jack was meant to come up from practice “you okay girl?” Mia asked as she sat next to you sensing your silence “can I tell you girls something?” You sighed watching them all nod.

Jack walked back into the apartment deciding that he wanted to be quiet so that he could hear whatever gossip it was that you were talking about “we had sex last night.” Your voice made him stop dead in your tracks “and he thinks I came but I didn’t.” That confession made his eyes go wide.

It wasn’t that he was sad you told your friends, he was sad that you felt the need to fake it and not address it. Because if Jack knew that you had done that you wouldn’t be sat there today “hey baby!” Jack pretended to shut the door once more again but louder this time before he made his way into the living room.

Your eyes were wide as you looked at your boyfriend “how was practice?” You asked trying to ignore the embarrass looks your friends were sending the Hughes boy “it was good, gonna go have a shower now.” He smiled pressing a kiss on your forehead.

Instead Jack actually walked into your bedroom and began deciding his plot of how to make you pay for faking your orgasm whilst he also tried to give you a night of pleasure to make up for what you missed.

Jack was given plenty of time as you ended up back in your room 90 minutes later once your friends had left “how are they all?” Jack asked sending you a smile as you crawled into his lap “don’t care about them right now.” You mumbled running your fingers along his jaw.

The hockey player smirked “want to be a good girl for me?” He cocked his head pecking your lips.

You nodded “always,” and just like that you had fallen into his plan.

Before you knew it your clothes were all off as you were laying on your bed fully naked whilst Jack was only in some sweatpants “you trust me?” The hockey player grabbed his belt as he held your hands together before he tied them to the headboard making sure that the belt was done tight enough you looked at him with a smile.

That wasn’t going to work for him causing the boy to grab his tie “relax baby,” he encouraged you as Jack held it up to your eyes “I’ll be back in a sec,” was the last thing he said after tying it behind your head.

It all felt foreign to you as Jacks tie blocked out the light from your eyes leaving you in darkness “J-jack?” You called out hearing his footsteps retreat “I’m here baby don’t worry.” He cooed coming back to your bed letting the mattress dip as his knees pressed into it.

You grew wet with anticipation as you waited for him to touch you “remember the safe word is red.” Jack mumbled pressing a kiss to your lips before a buzzing noise between your thighs pulled your attention away from his lips.

That feeling was familiar from anywhere, the vibrating was shared between your clit and your pussy making you realise that it was your red rabbit vibrator. It was a purchase you got when Jack was on a roadtrip and when he came home he caught you laying on your bed in some pretty robe for him but when you got impatient you leaned on your new friend to help you out. Rather than get upset Jack spent that evening learning how to further improve your experience in bed with the help of the red device “shit Jack!” You gasped realising that your boyfriend had gone for the highest speed setting straight off the bat.

Your hips jerked against the device as you felt your high quickly approaching “don’t stop,” you begged desperately tugging at the belt that had your hands up by your headboard “not yet baby.” Jack clicked his tongue turning the speed of the vibrator all the way down to its lowest setting.

It caused you to whimper “don’t be a brat about it.” He warned using his free hand to softly hit your clit “you want to embarrass me like that in front of all your friends?” Jack’s harsh words made your jaw go slack “and think that you won’t get punished for it?” He let out a laugh as he shook his head.

Jack let the speed slowly increase again as it looked like you had fallen enough away from your high “let’s see if you take this one like a good girl this time?” The hockey player increased the speed up one button more as he grabbed an ice cube from the cup next to him.

Your body ached as your toes curled “y-you know?” Your voice trembled, quickly you felt bad at the thought out your boyfriend knowing what you had done “had to hear you telling all of those fucking friends of yours too.” You didn’t have time to think about how his voice sounded mumbled as the boys lips dropped down to your breast “shit!” You groaned almost jumping out of this constraints you jumped so hard.

The cold ice cube served as the perfect contrast to your hot skin “fuck Jackie!” You cried at the sensory overload that you were feeling “breathe baby.” Jack ordered watching in awe as the water dripped from your stiff and sensitive peak.

You huffed trying to hold back a moan desperate for Jack to let you come “‘m so sorr-” you cut yourself off as he moved his attention to your other breast repeating his actions with what was left of the ice cube “think you should beg to come.” Jack had to admit that his cock pulsated in his sweatpants as it felt forgotten and unloved waiting for you to turn your focus to it “please Jack!” You cried trying to form a coherent sentence.

Your thighs shook as you couldn’t keep them planted on the mattress anymore “I’ll never fake an orgasm ever again.” You offered with your voice oozing in pleads “going to need more from you than that.” Jack shook his head again dropped the ice cube onto your stomach causing him to grunt out in pleasure as he watched it glide down your torso finally stopping just above your belly button.

It seemed like as the ice cube stopped so did your vibration causing your high that had built up to quick drop again “think you can go again?” Jack asked massaging the little 86 tattoo that you had on your hip “uh huh,” you whimpered feeling your vibrator slide out of your core.

Jacks weight shifted to the side of your bed before he went back to the centre, his arms wrapped around your thighs as if you could have tried to go anywhere else “shush baby.” Jack cooed as he pursed his lips around the cube of ice bringing his mouth down to your slit.

You cried out in pleasure feeling the cold cube pressed up against your clit as Jack ran the cube down your slit “p-p-please Jack.” You whined tensing up your whole body as he pushed the cube into your soaked cunt.

It made you moan as the ice began to melt in your warm core leaving Jack to suck at your clit “want to touch you,” you complained as tugged as the belt once more now fully aware that it was going to cause a bruise on your wrist’s tomorrow “not yet.” Jacks words could barely be heard as he didn’t pick his head up from your clit as his tongue swirled around the sensitive nub.

It didn’t help that you were still feeling those two previous attempts at orgasm that failed so now all you wanted as for this one to suck you into the bliss that would have been coming around his cock as you saw the stars “Jesus baby you’re soaked.” The hockey player smirked to himself knowing that this was all his work.

He went back to letting his tongue work on your clit as your body began to shiver, thighs driving towards him “all for you.” You stumbled over your words “all real too.” You added desperate to clench around something that wasn’t the quickly melting ice as that was how you liked to come.

Jacks cock stuffing you to the brim as his thumb played on your clit or with your nipples “you know the rules tonight.” He pulled away once more making you huff in annoyance.

The hockey player stared at your body sat there all innocently as he smiled seeing how frustrated you were “you had enough?” Jack asked leaning forward as he pushed the tie off of your head.

It took you a few seconds to adjust before you looked at him “just want you now.” You complained sending him a needy look that he couldn’t say no to.

Jack nodded undoing his belt before he rubbed your wrists “next time, I’m tying you up.” You mumbled cupping his face with your hands so that you could pull him into a kiss.

The boy almost fell onto your bed as you pulled him down “I wanna fuck you.” Jack confessed deciding that the pain in his cock was no longer worth it.

The hockey player smiled as you hooked your fingers in his waistband “no baby, I’m gonna work for you tonight.” Now this was the apology part of the plan.

He let his sweatpants drop to the floor as he kicked the ends off “been so good for me baby.” Jack cooed leaning down to kiss your lips.

Your eyes fluttered feeling his cock run against your clit “please don’t tease me.” You begged not believing that you could handle more of it “just making sure you were ready.” Jack joked not giving you enough time to snap back at him before he thrusted his throbbing cock in your wet cunt.

Jack didn’t even need the time to let you adjust before he hooked your legs over his shoulder “my flexible good girl.” He mumbled hovering his lips over yours as he established a good rhythm that would be aided by your sensitive core “god Jack.” You moaned feeling your breasts bounce with each thrust of his cock.

The sight was hot, no distance between the love drunk couple as the sound of your moans harmonised together “just me baby.” The hockey player grunted feeling your pussy clench around his cock “you want to come already?” His tone was teasing.

Your face grew red as you nodded “making me feel so full your toes curled as pleasure pulsated through your body.

Jack needed just a bit more from you “hold it,” he warned not wanting to ruin a hot night because you couldn’t listen.

His order made tears form in your eyes as he stared down at you, letting his hair down to tickle your face “Jack please,” you begged as the pressure between your thighs threatened to burst at any minute.

His grunts quickly joined a competition with your moans in an effort to drown the other out “keep squeezing my cock like that baby.” Jacks thoughts began to grown foggy as his orgasm approach too.

Your fingers slid between your two bodies “I can’t hold it anymore Jack.” You confessed letting those fingers attach your clit as they rubbed in a circular motion.

Jack let his head drop to your neck in a similar way that he did it the night before “come for me baby.” He ordered replacing your hand in your clit “come so the neighbours can hear who makes you feel like this.” The hockey player let his lips nip at the skin of your neck in order to control himself.

His hips snapped so fast if was like they might have snapped out of place “fucking shit Jack!” You cried out grinding your hips into his as you eyes screwed shut.

His orgasm came shortly after yours with how you came around his naked cock -something you two hadn’t done before- “holy shit baby.” Jack gasped final a final thrust into your cunt before he pulled his cock out “you squirted.” He pointed out looking at the wet patch on his lower torso.

Before you had the chance to grow embarrassed he smiled “that was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.” Jack confessed kissing your cheeks, a habit he had picked up whenever you blushed.

You smiled looking at him “think I should fake some more orgasms if we are gonna have sex like that afterwards.” You joked running your fingers through his hair “next time I’m not going to let you come.” Jack warned making you laugh.

The hockey player had to admit that these small moments after sex with you were some of his favourites “bath or shower?” He proposed knowing that you both desperately needed a clean “bath.”

#jack hughes smut #Jack Hughes imagines #nhl smut #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #imagines #oneshots #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x reader #amber writes fics

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eddiesghxst · 4 months

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PRICE OF FAME (PART 11/12)

gasp she's finally here !!!

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: the last day of tour has arrived and you're pushed to make a difficult choice

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, smoking, sexual themes, mentions of oral, angst, and more glimpses of eddie being boyfriend coded <3

word count: 6k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

song inspo for this chappy, thx to my stink @mmunson86 ily hehe:

Sunday mornings are meant for being lazy.

You wake up, you toss around in bed for a bit, maybe turn on the TV, and order food if you’re at a nice hotel like you are now— which had been your plan. You had wanted to try the strawberry crepes here for ages, and you planned to finally order it to start the last day of your short-lived tour on the right foot— but apparently, someone doesn’t believe in the mainstream concept of Sunday morning.

It’s seven in the morning when you get a knock on your door. You want to ignore it— and you have every intention to do so— except the person at the door is incessant and apparently doesn’t get the hint of silence.

It makes sense, though, when you open the door to see who is banging on your door like a madman. Eddie, of course.

“Housekeeping!”

He’s got a cute, wide smile and damp curls that make your chest flutter even though you still have one foot in a dream. Although, you think the dream might be the man standing before you, clad in jeans and a graphic tee, and beaming at you.

“Eddie, it’s seven in the morning.” You grumble.

Eddie’s smile widens, “I know. Perfect time for a walk in the park.” He says before pushing past you and walking into your room. Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him walk over to your window and open the blinds. You rapidly blink at the sunlight, “I– what? A walk?”

Eddie turns to you, smiling still as he nods, “Yes. Down at Central Park. They’ve always got cute dogs down there, and I know a place with pancakes to die for.”

You’re too tired to even wrap your mind around how cute of an image Eddie with dogs would be, “Woah… woah, woah, wait— Eddie, I— I would love to,” you blink hard, “But I’m still half asleep, and I only got to bed like four hours ago, so I think I’d pass out on a walk right now.” You softly laugh.

You feel a twinge of guilt stir in your gut, so you step forward to Eddie, reaching out to rest a hand on his bicep and gently squeeze, “Why don’t we order coffee up and sit on the balcony until my mind warms up a bit?” You offer.

Which, now that you think of it, was a perfect idea because there’s a cool breeze this morning that gives you an excuse to press up against Eddie’s side and curl into the heat of him as you sip on warm coffee and watch Eddie burn through cigarettes. Eddie was bold enough to drag your legs to rest across his lap, and you decide to blame your compliance on lack of sleep rather than desire.

“Are you nervous for tonight?” You wonder aloud, watching as the morning sun cracks through his fluttering eyelashes. Eddie’s lips pull into a smile, “No.” He leans into you, “Are you?”

You snort, pressing your fingers into the warm ceramic mug, “Why would I be nervous?”

Eddie shrugs, “Maybe I’ve got a surprise up my sleeve or something.” He teases. His fingers are warm and send goosebumps across your skin as they dance across your leg, inching up your thigh until you slightly squirm. Eddie doesn’t even try to hide the smirk on his lips.

You ignore his wandering hands as best as you can, although the lick of heat that runs up your spine when he fiddles with the hem of your baggy shirt sends your mind spinning, a dull throb of your center when his knuckles brush the crease of your hip. You raise an eyebrow, gazing at him and cocking your head to the side, “Well, do you?”

Eddie glances at you, busy drawing stars inside your thighs, “No.”

You roll your eyes, shoving your foot into his jean-clad thigh as he barks out a laugh, hands squeezing your bare calves. “That’s not funny, Munson. You’re on probation, you know?”

Eddie tilts his head, dreamy gaze in his eyes as he gently squeezes your calves, “I know. I’m working on it, though… which reminds me—” You take a deep breath, slinking your legs out of his grip and sitting up straight to stretch, “Think I’m in the mood for those pancakes now.” You hum.

Eddie gazes at you, jaw loose as he watches you stand up and completely dodge what he’s been spinning out about for the last twenty-four hours. “Birdie—” “Yeah, I’m starving now that I think of it. Let’s go.” You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug him up, ignoring his grumbles of protest.

It should be studied, the pull Eddie has on you, because here you both are in a booth at an old breakfast diner, and all you can think about is how you want nothing more than to slink over to the other side and burrow yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

But Eddie’s friends are here.

The entire ensemble: Nancy, Robin, Steve, Gareth, Jeff, and even Eric, who you hardly even see because he’s the busiest with groupies out of the Corroded Coffin band.

They caught you and Eddie on your way down to the lobby, and well… they just tagged along. Eddie wasn’t so happy about it, mumbling about how he can never shake these assholes, but you just snickered and told him to be nice.

So, now, you’re sitting across from Eddie in a diner with the smell of pancakes and maple syrup wafting through the air and a friendly chatter ringing throughout the table.

You try your hardest to pay attention to the conversations, but it’s hard when Eddie is glancing at you with these eyes that melt your insides. It doesn’t help when he leans forward on the table, shoulders pressing into the edge as his fingers skim your knee beneath it. You raise an eyebrow when he takes a menu, opens it, and stands it up to block the view of his friends as he beckons you forward. You lean forward, chest fluttering at the sight of Eddie’s pretty eyes so up close, pouty lips and curly hair that you want to reach out and card your fingers through. He’s a dream, no doubt about it.

“Let’s ditch them.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You can’t ditch your friends, Eddie.”

Eddie makes a face, “Why not? They crashed, and I have work to do.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “Work?”

Eddie grumbles, his voice carrying an obvious tone, “Yeah, I’ve only got until tonight to pay my dues.” He reminds you. You hum with a teasing glint, “I reckon that’s a fault on your part, Munson.”

Before Eddie can respond, the menu is torn out of his hands to reveal Gareth and Jeff snickering, “You do know we can still see you two, right?” Eric teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “I don’t know if you dipshits got the memo, but you definitely weren’t invited to this.”

You giggle, nudging your foot against his shin, “Don’t be rude,” You mumble. “Yeah, Eddie, don’t be rude.” Robin teases.

Eddie grumbles, ignoring his snickering friends as he stands up, “All of you can fuck right off.” He sticks up a decorated middle finger to his table of friends, and you smile as you slide out of the booth, warmth spreading through your body when he reaches around to grab your sweater.

“Oh, come on, we were just joking, Eds!”

Eddie waves them off, slinking an arm around your body to rest a hand on the small of your back, gently ushering you toward the exit as his friends create a scene.

“Hey, don’t be late to soundcheck, asshole, we won’t hear the end of it from Richie!” Jeff calls out, but Eddie doesn’t answer because he’s walking you both outside of the diner and muttering something about them being a pain in his ass.

“We could just take a flight out somewhere far away from them, princess. Say the word, and I’ll book it.” Eddie jokingly offers. You smile as you take your sweater from him with a small thanks, “They love you. That’s a good thing to have.” You remind him. Eddie rolls his eyes, scratching at the back of his neck as you begin walking down the street, “Sure, except not when I have important things to do. Which, when are you gonna put me out of my misery and tell me what you think?”

You hum, feing ignorance as you blink up at Eddie, “Think about what, Eddie?”

Eddie stares at you, blinking once before his lips spread into a smile, “You’re lucky you’re pretty.” He teasingly says through gritted teeth, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in as he jokingly presses his palm to your face, laughing as you squeal and squirm in his hold. “Eddie Munson thinks I’m pretty. How cute.” You mock as you grapple at his wrist, prying his hand from your face, “Only took him a month to figure that out.”

Eddie laughs, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” He drawls, “I always knew you were pretty. I never thought you weren’t pretty. Who told you that?” “Nobody told me that; you just,” you shrug, “Kind of hated my guts, so it went hand in hand.”

Eddie’s eyes soften at that, and your cheeks warm as his gaze zones in on you. You clear your throat, glancing away, “Are we going to eat or what, Munson? I told you I’m starving, and you just dragged me out of that diner, so.”

Eddie nods, “Yeah, yeah,” He waves before lacing his fingers with yours to drag you along, “I got a place in mind; let’s go.”

“If you wanted strawberries on your pancakes, then you should’ve asked for them.”

Eddie, you are learning, has sticky fingers. Sticky in the metaphorical sense where he just takes things without asking and sticky in the literal sense where he keeps reaching over to steal strawberries from your plate and ends up dipping his fingers in your maple syrup as well.

He’s like a child for fucks sake! Touching things he shouldn’t be touching and grinning at you with a ‘you can’t do anything about it because I’m cute’ glint in his eyes.

You watch as Eddie sucks the syrup off his thumb and smirks at you as he says, “Sharing is caring, you know?”

You look at his plate, tilting your head with a smirk before asking, “Yeah? Then can I have your hash browns?” Eddie glances at his plate, a frown spreading across his lips as he looks at you, “But there’s barely any left.” He points out.

Your eyebrows raise, and he sighs in defeat, cutting into his hash browns to give you half of it. You snicker as he carefully reaches over to put the side dish on your plate, pursing your lips to hold a laugh when you look up at him. “What’s so funny?” He grumbles, stabbing into his food and shoving a fork full into his mouth.

“Nothing. I just, like, hate hash browns.”

Eddie stops midchew, looking up at you for a brief moment. He’s silent as he resumes chewing his food and swallowing, quietly eyeing you for a moment before clearing his throat. “You hate hash browns?” He asks.

You nod as you take a bite of your eggs, and Eddie looks at you like you just told him something concerning. “I—... what do you mean you hate hash browns? Do you like potatoes?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink, “Sure.”

“Do you like fries?”

“I love fries.”

“Tater tots?”

“I like them every now and then,” You shrug.

Eddie’s head cocks in confusion, eyes narrowing, “So what’s the problem with hash browns?”

Your eyebrows raise, and an amused smile spreads across your lips, “Holy shit. I’m getting the sense that you might, I don’t know… love hash browns or something?”

Eddie scoffs, “Of course I fucking love hash browns. Are you fucking kidding me? Who doesn’t like hash browns?”

“Tommy Lommi.”

“Well then, they’re fucking weird— wait…” Eddie blinks at you and stares like you’ve just discovered time travel. “What do you mean, Tommy Lommi? How do you know Tommy Lommi hates hash browns?”

You shrug, “Ate breakfast with the band a few years ago. They gave him hash browns, and he returned the entire plate. A lot of people hate hash browns, Eddie.”

Eddie waves a hand in dismissal, scooting closer to the table as he responds in a hurried and amused tone, “You had breakfast with Black fucking Sabbath?” He exclaims.

You hold back a smile as you blink at the man before you, his brown eyes wide and blown from adrenaline, “Yeah, it— it was, like, a work thing. I was doing a short piece on them, so Anna and I had lunch with them and their manager.” At the mention of your manager's name, you make a mental note to call and update her on your piece.

Eddie raises two hands to his head, grasping his hair like he’s in distress, as he lets out a loud sound, drawing attention. You giggle, reaching out to grab his wrist and lower him back down to the table, “Eddie, you’re making a scene—” “You met Ozzy, and you just, like, casually forgot to mention that to me? Like he’s not my idol? Like he’s not my literal lord and savior? Do you even care about me?” He exclaims in a loud voice.

Your eyes widen in amusement as the man practically spins out right in front of you. “I’m sorry! I didn’t think it— wait, haven’t you met him before? Like on a red carpet or something?”

Eddie scoffs, leaning back into the booth and pulling a face like the words you’ve just said are rubbish. “Yeah, right. Like Ozzy Osborne would willingly surround himself with a bunch of untrained nuts like the boys of Corroded Coffin. He’s a professional, Birdie. That’s an insult.”

You giggle, gently nudging your plate away, taking a deep breath from feeling so full as you shrug, “Maybe if you cleaned up your act, it would happen.” You teasingly say.

Eddie looks at you, runs his eyes over your face, and smirks as he folds his arms over his chest, reaching up with one hand to twirl a piece of his hair between his fingers. “Yeah? And how do you suggest we do that?” He slinks his feet forward, gently tapping his shoe against yours before hooking an ankle around yours.

You hum, “I don’t know. Maybe cut back on the parties. Less reckless act and more calculated rockstar. Less groupies… none, if that.” You mutter the last part, and Eddie snickers. He hums as well, tipping his head side to side as if he’s thinking, “And would you say maybe,” He clears his throat, “Like, a girlfriend would do good as well?”

You huff out a laugh, “Nice try, Munson.” You snicker. “You’re far from girlfriend status with me.”

Eddie lowly hums, taking a deep breath as he shifts in his seat, “Yeah, well, I intend on changing that, so, are you done eating?”

Eddie’s sure that Richie will chew him out.

It’s the last day of tour before the next leg starts in a month, and Eddie is almost an hour late to soundcheck. Richie was adamant about being on schedule for today because it’s the last show, and Richie’s a goddamn perfectionist (who would take on the job of managing a group of rowdy rockstars if they have the personality of a fucking sergeant?). But honestly, Eddie doesn’t have a single bone in him that cares because— well, why would he care when he’s spent all day with you practically pressed into his side?

You’re Eddie’s every dream compacted into the cutest, kindest, prettiest human he’s ever fucking known, and Eddie keeps having these moments where he wants to smash his head through a brick wall for ever letting a cruel word form on his tongue towards you. He would pay an endless amount of money to rewind time and do it over again, do it right, and give you the respect you deserve.

Then maybe you would stop dodging his kisses.

“Come on, just one?” He begs, watching as you walk a few steps ahead of him. Eddie won’t lie; it’s a great view he’s got from behind. You’re wearing these black ripped jeans that hug your ass and thighs so perfectly Eddie wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you.

You shake your head, “Nope. A kiss has never been a kiss with you, and I’m not too keen on giving Richie more reasons to put me in time-out. You’re also definitely still on probation.”

Eddie grunts, “This is just cruel, sweetheart.”

He jogs a bit to catch up to speed with you, “While we’re on the topic, what’d he say to you?”

You glance at Eddie, brows furrowing, “Who? Richie?”

Eddie nods, and you shrug. “I assume the same thing he told you. Told me to hold off on it until the magazine blows over in the fanbase.”

Eddie hums because, well, that’s not what Richie told Eddie. Actually, Richie told Eddie to just forget it, don’t even attempt to do anything with that woman because when you fuck up, I’m gonna be the one left to clean it up. And isn’t that Richie’s fucking job? Isn’t that precisely why Richie was hired? To clean up the boys’ mess and make their appearance seem squeaky clean.

“I don’t blame him, though.”

Eddie’s neck practically snaps in your direction, and he has to stop you from walking any further down the backstage hallways because what the fuck are you saying right now?

“What do you mean?”

You shrug, glancing up at Eddie, “I mean, he’s just doing his job, Eddie. He’s trying to protect your image, and, honestly, I didn’t understand where he was coming from until he pointed out that I’m still practically press in the eyes of the industry, so.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.” Eddie snaps. Doesn’t mean to snap, really. Doesn’t mean to have a harsh tone or sound upset with you because he’s not. He’s upset with the situation and the absolute mess he’s created from having his head up his ass for so long. He’s upset because he doesn’t want to wait until the magazine blows over. He’s upset because he’s finally admitting to what he wants, and you’re right there, and he wants to work on getting you but fucking Richie— jesus christ, Eddie’s going to choke that bastard.

“That doesn’t even fucking make sense,” Eddie exclaims, “I already fucked up. There’s not much to fuck up at this rate.”

“It’s different when there’s feelings involved, Eddie.” And Eddie doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that you sound as if you’re siding with Richie, and he doesn’t like that you’re using your hot ass journalist tone with him. “What difference does it make?” Eddie stresses.

“Because shit could hit the fan. Things could go bad again, and, in Richie’s eyes, I could easily become an enemy. It’s a rational call to make.”

No.

No, no, no, this isn’t what Eddie wants, and it’s not how Eddie wants you picturing what you two could be— a disaster.

Eddie blinks, heart pounding in his chest because god, he wants you and he’s scared he’s lost you before even getting the chance to fix things. “So… is that— is that what you want? To wait?”

You gaze up at Eddie, “I— no?”

Eddie frowns, stomach churning as you look away to avoid his gaze, “That didn’t sound confident. You don’t want to do this?”

“It’s… That’s not what I’m saying. I just— I’m not quite sure where this is aiming.”

“What do you mean? I told you how I feel.”

You make an exasperated noise, stepping out from the wall Eddie had you caged against, “No, you haven’t told me how you feel. You’ve told me what you want. That’s not enough.”

And you’re looking at Eddie with these eyes that make him want to crack open his chest and let you see it for yourself because fuck, the only time Eddie has ever confessed his feelings to someone, she ended up breaking his heart without a single care in the world.

And for this entire month, you’ve been slipping from Eddie’s hands, but this is the time that he’s actually felt it. He feels dizzy and sick and so angry with himself.

“I— well, how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

It’s like time slows as you gaze up at Eddie, eyes filled with so many words and uncertainty that Eddie has only himself to blame for. “I don’t know.” You softly reply.

Eddie says nothing as he stares back, gently nodding as you slink your arms around yourself, “I don’t know, Eddie. I’m… I don’t know this side of you— and that’s not to say I don’t like or want it, but— but what happens when we get bored without the chase?”

Eddie’s heart breaks.

“When?”

Your eyes fall shut, and you shake your head, “That’s not what I meant–” “But that’s what you said.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. You know what I mean, Eddie.”

Eddie scoffs as he steps back, “No, Birdie, honestly, I don’t. I’m actually, like, really fucking confused right now.”

Your face twists in defense and your eyes glint with something that Eddie can’t quite put his finger on, and it makes him want to scream. “You seriously can’t be upset with me for being hesitant on this, Eddie.”

Eddie looks at you, pauses, and holds his breath before shaking his head, “No, I’m—” He steps forward, “I’m sorry. I’m not upset.”

Your lips are pulled into a frown as Eddie reaches out to softly skim his knuckles across your elbow, silently asking for you to stay open for him. “I’m not upset with you.” He repeats.

You don’t step closer or move away, and Eddie takes that as a win either way. But before either of you can say anything else, Eddie is being whisked away with his assistant and promising to finish the conversation afterward.

You don’t see Eddie for the rest of the day, and for the first time, it’s not Eddie’s fault but yours.

You regret to admit that the small dispute you and Eddie had caused you to spiral within your thoughts, and you spent most of the day holed up in your room packing, writing, pacing, and thinking until you exhausted yourself. On a good note, though, the day passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re making your way down the Madison Square Garden backstage halls.

You’ve walked these halls enough to know your way around by heart now, so you don’t have trouble finding the dressing room. The usual small group of ladies that stand outside are there in their Sunday best for the show finale, passing a blunt between each other— and you don’t even notice the missing leader of the group until she’s storming out of the room.

“Fuck you, Eddie!” She turns to yell into the room. You watch from a few feet away, stunned and slightly terrified. She’s beautiful, even as mad as she is now; her red hair is styled in bouncy curls that jump and jolt with each wave of her hand, her heeled boots clicking on the ground with each stomp of her heel. She steps into the room, pointing at someone who you can only assume to be Eddie, but the door obstructs your view, “I knew you before you had a single fucking dime! If you think for one second she’s gonna stick with you through all of your bullshit rock and roll facade, then you’re wrong!” She snaps.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kenny, please get rid of her.” You hear the familiar grumble of Eddie’s voice. Kenny, the security guard by the door, steps forward and ushers the angry woman away from the threshold. “Don’t fucking touch me.” She snatches her arm from his hold, and Kenny lifts a hand in surrender, “Look, I’m gonna have to get you banned from the building if you don’t leave. Make my job easier, please.” Kenny replies in a bored tone.

The girl scoffs with a roll of her eyes before turning around and storming down the hall, her posse quickly trotting behind.

You don’t hear the usual chatter in the dressing room, so you’re slightly suspicious as you walk up, kindly smiling towards Kenny as he lets you in. The door shuts behind you, and you take in the empty room, void of the usual hustle of band members and staff.

“Kenny, I swear to god, if it’s another groupie, I’m gonna fire you.” You hear Eddie say from the ensuite restroom. Eddie doesn’t notice you as he walks into the room, busy ruffling his hair up for the show and walking toward the vanity, “I already told you who to let in.”

Finally, Eddie lifts his head, a cigarette hanging from his lips as his eyes brighten when he sees you through the vanity mirror. You smile, shifting in your spot as Eddie whips around to look at you, “Hi.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he takes in the view, eyes raking over your body as he blindly snuffs out his cigarette on the wooden vanity, face stunned as he walks over to you, “What the fuck?” He lowly says.

He’s reaching out to loop his fingers around your wrist and bring you closer, eyes traveling further and further down your frame, “What the fuck?” He repeats.

“Eddie,” You groan. “Where the fuck have you been hiding this, princess?” He exclaims.

“It’s nothing. Stop.” You grumble, but Eddie only shakes his head, “Nothing? Are you insane?” He steps back, hand wrapped in yours as his teeth dig into his bottom lip, “Let me look at you, come on.”

Your dress is black, tight, and form-fitting, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a puffy lace hem matching the long sleeves' scrunchie endings. Two thin black straps hug your shoulders, tauntingly digging into your collarbones. The dress stops just above the middle of your thigh, leaving little to the imagination—- much in Eddie’s favor. Below the dress peeks out a black garter belt, two shiny silver clips winking at Eddie as they hold up your black thigh-high stockings. Your feet are held in shiny black stilettos. Sex.

Eddie nearly whimpers.

Eddie wants to sink to his knees, push up the skirt of your dress, and stuff his face between your legs. He wants to make you cum on his tongue until you’re pushing him away and begging for a break. Wants to feel the nylon stretch of your stockings scratching up against his ears as your legs clamp around his head. God, Eddie wants it, he wants it so fucking bad.

You smell sweet and taste even sweeter when Eddie presses his lips to yours, practically swallowing you whole— he would if he had the choice. Your lips split into a smile against Eddie’s, breathily laughing as he blindly leads you to the vanity, walking until he feels your body softly thud against the counter.

“Jesus. I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it,” Eddie grumbles against your lips, sloppy and wet, as he trails down to your jaw, neck, and collarbones. His hands are greedy as they grapple at your hips, squeezing the thicker parts to tilt you towards him, groaning when your pelvis drags against his quickly hardening length. You pant his name, one hand dropping to steady yourself against the counter as the other hand sinks into his damp, curly strands. Eddie groans, stuffing his face into your neck, licking and biting as he grinds you against him. You’re all whiney breaths and moans, and Eddie just can’t help himself when he nudges his nose against the strap of your dress before sticking his tongue out and dragging it up the length of the flimsy black piece.

Your head drops back, chest rising and falling with a sinful glisten under the vanity lights as Eddie drags his tongue all the way from your shoulder to your chin before smashing his lips back onto yours, fingers curled around the base of your neck. Wet, hot, and heavy.

Your lips curl against Eddie’s mouth, hips grinding against him, “S-should I be concerned about the angry woman that just stormed out of here?” You lowly ask.

Eddie laughs, smearing his lips against yours, teasingly flicking his tongue into your mouth, “Definitely not. Good fucking riddance.” Eddie can’t wait to tell you all about how he learned about Lany’s money-greedy actions that led him to the page of every tabloid with a false girlfriend.

You fail terribly to hold the snort that rises in your throat, and Eddie cuts it off with his mouth, swallowing your hums as he presses his body into yours.

“Want you.” Eddie needily whispers. You whine, fingers curling against Eddie’s roots to draw a throaty groan from him. “Need to have you, baby—” “I— wait, wait, wait.” Your hands are pressing against Eddie’s shoulders, and god, Eddie feels lightheaded as he pulls away, blown-out eyes blinking down at you.

You huff, squirming against the counter, breath heavy and bated as you reach down to tug your dress down, “We need to talk.”

Eddie swallows, running a hand through his hair as he gazes at you— and fuck, he’s so hard, and you’re so pretty, and Eddie thinks he might bust just looking at you.

Still, Eddie blinks through the thick fog of arousal and nods, taking a moment to not-so-discreetly adjust himself within his pants.

Ever the gentleman, Eddie offers you the seat at the vanity, but you only shake your head, and well— fuck, Eddie just wants to get back to kissing you so he doesn’t fight it. He hops up onto the chair and gazes at you as you lean back against the vanity, fingers fidgeting with one another.

You’re avoiding Eddie’s gaze, and Eddie doesn’t like it very much, so he distracts himself by lighting a cigarette, but it does little to aid him in distraction when the words slip from your mouth.

“I think we need time away from each other.”

Eddie’s looking at you like you just told him you killed his dog, and you hate that you start feeling as if you’re wrecking everything when you know— when you both know— this is the best thing for the future.

The unlit cigarette between Eddie’s lips is removed and tossed to the side as he blinks at you, shaking his head with a confused and hurt expression, “W–what do you mean?”

You slink your arms across your body from instinct, mentally pushing yourself to stand on the rocky island you’ve built— because even though you want nothing more than to cave and throw yourself into Eddie’s arms and start over, it’s not right. You didn’t start on a good note, and it’s unfair to yourself or Eddie to avoid fully acknowledging that just because of your intense pull toward one another. You both need time.

“I don’t understand.”

“Just so we can have the space to figure out what we want and need from each other, you know?”

Eddie runs a hand over his face, “Is this about what happened earlier? Because I was being an asshole, I know, and I’m sorry, but just give me a chance–” You shake your head, stepping closer to Eddie and running your fingers over his wrists, “No. No, that’s not what this is about— I mean, it might’ve spurred it on, but it was on my mind before that.”

Eddie’s face twists in defeat, “I want to fix what I did, baby, just give me a chance.”

You push his long bangs from his eyes, “I am, Eddie. I promise I am. But I need space— we need space.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at you, and your heart aches. “Everything’s been so quick, Eddie. It’s only been a month, and there’s been so many emotions—”

“That’s bullshit, Birdie, and you know it.”

You tense at his harsh tone, “Excuse me?”

“You said when,” He reminds you, “When you get bored. You really expect me to believe you ‘just want space’? You’re scared.”

Your eyebrows dip in anger then, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you as your chest tightens, “And you’re not?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, ringed hands flailing in exasperation. “Yes, I’m fucking scared, obviously. I never would’ve fucked up this bad if I wasn’t scared.”

Your eyes are brimmed with tears, and you’re beginning to think maybe you shouldn’t have even come tonight. Maybe you should’ve just left without a single word and made Eddie hate you all over again. At least the foundations of your relationship were solid and clearly stated then.

How could everything have gotten so confusing in such little time?

Eddie notices your shifting demeanor and breathes, rubbing his eyes and smudging his eyeliner. You fight the instinct to reach out and fix it for him. “Okay, so… you want time apart.”

You nod, fingers twisting amongst themselves. Eddie turns his rings around his knuckles as silence cracks down on you both. Eddie swallows, eyes catching yours for a split moment, “Okay.” He nods.

You want to sink your hands into his and tell him you’re hurting just as much, wanting him just as much, but if you touch him now, you’re afraid you’ll never let go.

“It’ll be good, Eds.” You softly say.

The curtain of his hair obstructs Eddie’s face, but through the tiny windows, you can see the twitch of pain that flashes across his features. “Are you staying for the show?” He asks, eyes trained on his busy fingers, rings glistening in the lights. God, you want to give in to him so badly.

You shift in your spot, clearing your throat and blinking away tears, “I’ll never leave if I do…”

As if on cue, Kenny opens the door and pokes his head into the room, calling for Eddie to notify him of the running clock. You and Eddie only speak through gazes for a split moment, and you both know if he stays any longer, neither will leave this room. You only have enough strength to nod towards the door.

You can’t even watch Eddie leave. Because watching Eddie go seems to be the recurring theme of the month— but now, you’re sending him away— and it hurts. You were so close yet so far away from justice.

The dressing room is vast and holds Eddie's phantom presence and smell, and you can’t seem to hold the silent tears that end up soaking your cheeks. You can hear the distant screaming of fans, the loud booming of the opening to a song, and deep down, you understand that if you don’t leave now, you’ll end up in the crowd, there’s no doubt.

You don’t recognize the opening song for tonight, but you hear the words and Eddie’s voice crystal clear— tugging you back with every step you take towards the arena's door.

My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost

I need to feel something, 'cause I'm still so far from home

Cross your heart and hope to die

Promise me you'll never leave my side

…..

So, you can drag me through hell

If it meant I could hold your hand

I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell

And you can throw me to the flames

I will follow you, I will follow you

The song echoes in your mind from the time the door slams shut to the moment you step into your cold apartment in Michigan, and it never stops.

————

part twelve

————

a/n: OHHH PLS DONT HATE ME IT HAD TO BE DONE AND IM SORRY THIS IS ON NEW YEARS EVE !!! these two will be back for one more round of fun in 2024. ok let me shut up before i start saying all my sob shit

as always, thank u for reading if you've made it this far and i appreciate any feedback, ILY AND I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL NEW YEARS, STAY SAFE PLS <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn @mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking

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shanastoryteller · 8 months

Note

Hello! Thank you for taking the time to open prompts! Could i ask for some lady mo, or anything with wei wuxian? He’s my fave!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

When one of the servants A-jie had brought with her when she married catches his eye and then disappears, Jiang Cheng’s stomach drops.

He leaves Shuchun to deal with the official mingling, which earns him a dirty look, but he refuses to feel bad about it. Wang Yan is hovering at the edges and either she or Jin Ling will save her from any truly obnoxious conversations.

He makes his way to his sister’s rooms, knocking twice before pushing inside. “What’s going on?”

The first person he sees is Jiang Xingyi, which is never good, but A-jie appears whole and healthy. She grabs his arm with both hands, pulling him close before whispering, “Would you be able to get genkwa before the end of the night hunt?”

“Yes,” he says, even though doing it without getting caught is going to be nearly impossible. What his sister needs, she gets. “How far along?”

She doesn’t look any different to him, but then again she never does. But if she needs it before the end of the night hunt, she must have caught it late this time.

This isn’t the first time he’s needed to do this.

A-jie’s body might not be able to handle another birth. He knows that she wants a big family, but none of them are willing to risk her life for another child.

Well, he and Jin Zixuan aren’t. Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin would do it gladly, which is why they can never, ever know of the times he’s had to smuggle the crushed purple little flowers into her hands.

“It’s not for me,” she says which leaves him blinking. “Maybe we won’t need it, but she won’t stop crying, and I don’t want to offer her something that I can’t carry through on. You’re sure?”

“Yes,” he says, “but who are we talking about?”

If it’s A-jie, everything has to be handled with the utmost secrecy, only Jiangs, Jin Zixuan, and Jin Guangyao privy to her condition. But a servant girl or even a noble’s daughter doesn’t garner enough attention to warrant their normal subterfuge.

A-jie gives him a look so full of grief that he’s already reaching for her before she turns and crosses over to the entrance to her private bath. She knocks then leans against the door, “Meimei, can you come out? There’s someone else here, he can help you. You can trust him, I promise.”

The endearment tells him nothing beyond it’s a woman younger than A-jie.

The seconds drag on and then the door slowly opens, a women clad only in one damp robe stepping out. He lifts his eyes to her face, red and splotchy from crying and her hair a mess all around her, and feels his mouth drop. “Lady Xuanyu?”

The wife to the second jade of Lan is not some servant girl or even just a noble’s daughter.

She sees him and fresh wave of tears roll down her face, but she’s smiling too, and A-jie is relaxing. “Hi Jiang Cheng.”

“Is it his?” he asks, mind spinning. “Lan Wangji’s?”

A-jie glares at his lack of tact, but he’s trying to make sense of this. If she’s sleeping around on Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng is hardly going to blame her for it, but it’ll explain why she needs to end the pregnancy.

She hiccups, lifting a sleeve to wipe at her cheeks. “Y-yeah.”

On the bright side, it’s not like Lan Wangji can hate him more than he already does.

A second reason for her to be so miserable at the news that she’s carrying her husband’s child occurs to him and the rage that sweeps through him is surprising in its intensity. “Does he hurt you?”

He drank with her the night before her wedding and told her that Lan Wangji wasn’t that awful, that he wouldn’t hurt her. He told her that she’d be safe as his bride.

But now she’s sobbing and pregnant and so clearly terrified.

Xuanyu hesitates.

“I’m going to kill him,” he says. It comes out perfectly calm, none of his normal bluster. Both A-jie and Jiang Xingyi pale.

He turns to leave, already planning on drawing his sword first and explaining after. Lan Wangji has made a liar out of him. Xuanyu is young and didn’t ask for any of this and he has a responsibility to protect his bride and Jiang Cheng told her that he wouldn’t hurt her and now she’s here and she’s hurt and he’s going to rip Lan Wangji’s spine out and shove it down his throat.

People don’t like him, don’t get along with him, generally. But she’d sat with him beneath the light of the moon and drank with him and it had been something warm and familiar that he hasn’t had since before the war. He tells himself that’s why he cares his so much when the truth is he doesn’t know why, it’s just that she feels familiar in a way he can’t explain, not when he the first time they met was that night.

“Jiang Cheng!” She lunges forward, hugging him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist. He braces for the feeling of discomfort, ready to push back agaisnt the urge to shove her off of him. It doesn’t come. “I didn’t mean like that! We spar, a lot, and I get hurt, but I’m always requesting it. It’s not like that.”

He turns in her arms, gently pushing her back but not letting go of her shoulders. “Then why are you crying? It’s okay, you can tell me the truth. I’m not afraid of Lan Wangji.”

“I just,” she sniffs. “I can’t – he doesn’t like me, you know? And – and I’m better than I was, um, healthier, but what if,” she blinks heavily, “what if I’m not strong enough, or something goes wrong, and then – what if I mess it up? And it’s all my fault, because I was weak, and then I’m a failure and he hates me–”

“Oh, Xuanyu,” A-jie whispers. He knows she had a lot of those same fears when she was pregnant with Jin Ling, and she and Jin Zixuan were in love, and he proposed to her fully knowing the state of her health.

Both Xuanyu and Lan Wangji were forced into this marriage.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says firmly. “If you don’t want to have this baby, then you don’t have to. Whatever the reason. And if anyone tries to force you to, I’ll stop them. I don’t care who they are. Understand?” He waits until she gives a wide eyed nod. “But I don’t – I don’t think that Lan Wangji will react like how you think he will. And if he disappoints you, then I will help you take care of it. But I don’t think he will.”

Twice now he has vouched for Lan Wangji to Xuanyu, this girl who feels like another sister even though he barely knows her.

If Lan Wangji makes a liar out of him, he will beat him bloody and not even Lan Xichen will be able to hold it against him.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

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pupcuck · 6 months

Text

WASTE ME 2

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. past rape/non-con referenced, unhealthy relationship, rape aftermath mentioned, blood mention, trauma, age gap, lots of victim blaming, creampie, pussy spanking

notes. hi :3 same warning as before this is just reader forming a trauma bond with their rapist but a onesided unrequited trauma bond 😭 leon is ooc so sorry ab that! probably vendetta leon but think ab any leon idk completely unedited bc i got lazy so ignore anything wrong I beg you. pov switches lots and leons character changes like 68 times

one / three

You must be sick in the head. Got more than a few screws loose. ‘Cause he just raped you. When you asked for his number, he assumed the worst, you’re gonna take it to the cops for sure. So he thinks of pulling out all the stops. Do you know who I am? I saved the president's kid back in ‘05, D.S.O agent, sweetheart, you’ve got nothing on me. Shitty move. Super villain type shit that is. He’s meant to be quite the opposite. Meant to be keeping civilians safe or whatever. You just looked good, alright? Bent over like a dog, like you were asking for it. Jesus. That sounds fucked. Jail worthy statement. This job has messed with his head.

Then you whip out your phone, give him a shaky smile, look at him like he’s a god or something. His gut churns. You’re not much of a looker; eyes sunken into your skull from a clear lack of sleep, hangnails for days, skin patchy. But he feels bad. The least he can do is take you out to dinner. Pay for your hospital bills in case he tore anything important. Doubt it. Leon’s not got that much going on down there. God, you look young. Real young. Can’t be more than twenty-five. Closer to twenty if he’s completely honest with himself.

“I like your jacket,” you say, scuffing your shoes on the ground. He pretends not to notice the droplet of blood on your otherwise white sneakers.

“Thanks,” Leon tries to stop himself from grimacing as he gives you a once over, “I like your…” There’s nothing. He doesn’t like a single bit of you. I like your ass, that’s why I stuck my dick in you by the way, pussy was pretty good too, had me acting like a total sleaze. He couldn’t say that. Or he could. He’s sure you’d take it well. Might even wag your tail a little. Get on your knees and suck his dick. What a fucked up kid. Glad he had enough sense to pull out.

You wait with bated breath, blinking at him with these big, sad eyes. The rope of silence burns.

“I like your eyes.” It’s a patent lie, but you don’t pick up on it. Instead you get shy and look down at the ground.

Leon passes your phone back, you pluck it out of his palm, careful not to touch him. Practised movements almost. He doesn’t question it. You ask for his name, he answers but doesn’t ask for yours in return.

“I’m sorry,” Leon tells you, it’s not enough, and it never will be. But he’d like to be absolved of this guilt. He already has enough. It sits heavy on his chest most days. Now he has to go and do this. A few drinks in and he starts thinking with his dick.

“No, it’s okay,” you brush him off, smile at him with all your teeth. The bottom set is crooked. “It was my first time, so thank you. I’ve been meaning to lose it.” Who even talks about sex like that? As if it’s paperwork you haven’t gotten around to.

Yeah. You’re gone. Thanking the man who raped you. Did he knock you around too much? Good work, Leon. Just ruined another life.

“I don’t think…” Leon trails off, shakes his head. “Call me.”

“Will you pick up?” You ask quietly, there’s nerves behind it, you must be used to fake numbers.

He wasn’t going to pick up. But he will now. “Yeah, I always pick up.” Good ol’ reliable Leon. Being falsely cordial even with his rape victim.

“Cool,” you smile once more, it reaches your eyes, makes them crinkle. “Well, I’ll see you soon?” Your tone lilts in question.

“Soon.” Leon nods affirmatively. You limp away and he swallows down the bile burning his throat.

To say you like Leon would be an understatement. You’d smash every mirror that doesn’t hold his reflection. Thinking about him is all you do these days. When you’re laying in bed, when you’re laying on the sofa, when you’ve got your hands down your pants. You don’t do much else anyway. So it’s exciting to have someone new to think about, someone to break up the mundanities of your stagnant life. He’s busy a lot. He might be lying, but you choose to believe him. You’re the only one lonely enough to bear his absence.

It takes all of your confidence to call him, the line rings thrice then goes to voicemail. He calls back late one night. You’re up watching some B-movie that’s classed as soft porn. “Hello, hi?” You suck with phone calls. Fucked up so many jobs ‘cause you failed to answer unknown numbers.

Silence, then the audio crackles when he sighs deeply. “Hey.”

“Leon, hi,” you wonder if he can hear the smile in your voice. “What’s up?”

“I missed your call.”

He’s missed a lot of calls, you don’t remind him. “That’s okay, I know you’re busy.”

“Yeah,” Leon says absentmindedly, “what did you want?”

You haven’t thought that far ahead. You just wanted to hear his voice. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Listen,” he starts, you assume the worst. He’s going to get a restraining order against you. “Can we get dinner one night? Get this over with.” It’s only just started and he wants to get rid of you so soon. Better than nothing.

“Yes,” you agree too quickly, “yeah, I’m free whenever.” Whenever means whenever. There’s not a single day you’re booked and busy. Never is.

He says Friday at six. You wait for it all week long. Pace around your room, mull over an acceptable outfit. There’s no such thing as formal wear in your wardrobe, haven’t even done the laundry in weeks. It’s piling up, gathering dust in multiple corners of the house. You shave your legs for the first time in months, get razor burn, clean your brows up to the best of your abilities.

Leon still makes a face when he sees you in the light. Your mug takes some getting used to. He’s dressed in what you saw him when he held you. That same leather jacket, the stiffness makes his shoulders appear bigger than they are.

When you smile, he smiles back crookedly. Shows his teeth to compensate for the fakeness of it. He’s real handsome. The type of handsome that makes you feel sick. That you feel you shouldn’t be in the presence of. Making you so anxious it’s giving you the shits. If you saw him in public, you’d duck behind someone taller, stick to the shadows, just in case he caught your eye and felt nauseous.

“Sorry I’m late,” you try to keep up with his pace as he strides along, the urge to cling onto his arm is there. He’d likely push you off, spit on you, call you gross. Not that you’d mind. Would be quite embarrassing though. So you hold back.

“It’s alright, I only got here a minute ago.” His disgust ebbs away. You think. ‘Cause he manages to glance over at you without keeling over.

“Was it good?” You take his wrist in your hand, dig your blunt nails into his skin.

“What?”

“When you… when it happened, when we had, like, sex, was it good?”

“Jesus, that wasn’t, that wasn’t sex,” Leon tips his head back, brows drawn together. His head is killing him.

You’re at a loss for words. Opening your mouth to speak and coming up with nothing. You’re hurt maybe. When you do talk, it’s pure fluff. Really shows your age. “It wasn’t? So what was it?” When he shrugs, you keep going, “I wanted to know if it was good ‘cause I knew this girl, like, in school, her name was Emma,” you pause to wave at a baby snuggled up in its stroller, “her mom was a hooker, and she said it was, like, genetically loose. Like her y’know, down there.”

“What?” He repeats, equally baffled as he was by you calling rape sex.

“Yeah, and my mom wasn’t a hooker or anything, but I was just wondering’ if it felt good? Like for you or was it loose?” You gaze up at him the way a beaten dog looks at its owner. Like you trust him with all of you. With your beating heart, with all the gristle and the tough parts, with your paper-doll body, like he wouldn’t tear you in half.

What’s he supposed to say now? It felt real good. Best pussy he’s had in years, the guilt just feels a lot worse. He sobered up after the initial rush. Started feeling bad too late. When he’d bloodied you up already. Left you walking funny, knees bent inwards in a crude attempt to hide the raw pain.

“Felt great,” Leon’s a people pleaser.

“Would you do it with me again, Leon?” You ask him shyly, worrying your bottom lip til it bleeds.

“Yeah.” Pussy is pussy. Even if it’s coming from someone ugly. Oh, he’s just being mean now. You’re cute. Well, cute in the way pugs are. People like to take care of things that are ugly, they feel bad for them, and decide to adopt pugs despite all their problems. He’s a sucker for pretty eyes though. And he’s started to like yours. There’s a deer-like quality to them. Maybe it’s that wide-eyed look of sheer terror you give him anytime he shrugs you off. Kind of addictive.

“Wait, really?” God, you’re shaking, shaking out of pure excitement as you loop your arm with his. “I’d like to see your face, but I really don’t mind. We could do it like that again, from behind.”

“Let’s not talk ‘bout that right now, okay, sweetheart?” Leon says it as tenderly as he can manage.

“Yeah, right, sorry, god.” You follow after him quietly.

Leon orders for you ‘cause you ask him too. You sit on your hands to warm them up, you pick at your skin, don’t really have many manners. Clear you don’t come out often. Not like he took you anywhere fancy.

You eat when Leon isn’t looking. When he’s focused on his own plate, when he’s busy chatting up the busty waitress. It’s strange. You’re strange. Like you don’t want anyone to see you doing anything normal. It’s like breathing is embarrassing for you. Then you open up your mouth and tell him some bullshit, and it’s all very confusing.

He doesn’t want to take you home. You’re not like anyone else, not a cutie he’s picked up from the bar, not someone he’s known for more than a while. But he raped you, so he owes you. Now you’ve got some trauma bond with him. Imprinted on Leon like a duckling. Couldn't you just take some government apology money and leave?

There’s not much to talk about, nothing he wants to find out, he has no interest in getting to know you. Leon asks if you have a job, you shake your head, tell him your parents love you enough to give you more than you need, but they don’t quite like you. That you go to college, but not often, that you don’t really have many goals, that you’re okay with dawdling through life. Nothing has ever worked out for you, and that’s why you’re glad you met him.

Leon has to stop himself from gagging. When he looks your way he’s repulsed. Not by you. Promise. He’s seen some shit. An ugly thing ain’t enough to scare him. Just remembers the blood caked on his cock, how he tucked it back into his pants and it dried up on the drive home.

He takes you to bed soon enough, saw your knee bouncing with excitement, and Leon’s never been particularly good at small talk. You smell nice at least. Tad too sweet for his liking, but that’s alright. Clearly, you’ve put a lot of effort into looking nice for him, and he can appreciate that.

The hair on the back of his neck prickles when your smaller hands find purchase on his waist. You’re shaking as he hovers over you, too close for comfort. Avoiding eye contact like anything. Shy little thing you are. Might as well make a meal of it this time, take in all of you. You ask him to keep the lights low, beg him at one point when he reaches over to turn the lamp on his nightstand on.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even see what I’m doing,” Leon mumbles, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on your shirt, “might slip it in the wrong hole if I’m not careful.” Gross. When did he start saying shit like that?

“Hah,” you laugh softly, airy and nervous, hands coming to rest on his firm chest instead, “I wouldn’t mind, Leon.”

“You would when your fuckin’ guts fall out,” he manages to pop them, a few buttons clatter to the wooden ground noisily, “colostomy bag ain’t no fun.”

“I didn’t think that far ahead.” You’re smiling at him for sure, when he dips his head down to give an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, he feels it. Runs his tongue over your teeth. “I still wouldn’t mind, Leon.”

What a freak. He smooths your hands down your sides, over your tapering waist until he feels your belt loops, jeans low on your hips. The zipper is already down, the button is stiff, but he manages to get them open, shuffling them down and tossing them on the floor.

When Leon goes to undo his belt, you grab his wrist. “Can you turn on the lamp actually? I changed my mind.” You say quietly, fingertips running over his knuckles. “I want to see you.” So he listens. Leon wants to see what you’re wearing underneath. If it’s anything special. It’s not. Plain black cotton. You must not have anything else he supposes. “It felt bigger than that last time.” You’re looking at his half-hard dick, sitting up on your elbows and scrutinising it real bad.

Ouch. Well, you’re the ugly bitch who hasn’t managed to get him to his full potential. Leon’s being mean now, needlessly mean, ‘cause you’re just a kid with a big mouth, and you don’t seem to know when to shut it. “Yeah, ‘cause I raped you,” he laughs dryly. Tastes bile again. Funny saying those words out loud it is. Makes you feel like a real asshole.

“But I liked it, Leon, so I don’t think it was.” By the way you flinch when he spreads you apart, Leon thinks it really was exactly that. Poor baby. Pussy all sore ‘cause he split you open.

“You liked it, hm?” Leon drops his forehead against yours, tries to gage your reaction to his words. “You like being raped?”

Eyelids fluttering shut. Breath hitching. All smiles and warm skin. Yeah, you loved it. You don’t have to tell him that, he can see it. “Yeah… I loved it, Leon.” His thumb slips past your petal lips, he doesn’t even have to ask you to suck. He pulls it out with a pop, brings it down to your cunt and presses the pad to your throbbing clit. “Mmm, ‘cause you wanted me so bad you didn’t even ask me…”

Just his thumb and your hips are lifting up off the bed, cunt drooling all over his sheets. He has to admit, he made a real mess of you that night, can see the way he broke you in. Left you all sloppy. Ruined your perfect pussy so no one else could ever use it. Leon only wants the mess ‘cause he made it himself.

“That’s right,” Leon nods his head, “‘cause you were stickin’ your ass in the air like a bitch. Can’t blame me can you, sweetheart?”

“No, ‘s all my fault,” your brows pinch together when he pulls back the hood of your clit, rubs figures eights into the twitching bud. You mewl, snapping your legs shut, he pries your thighs apart easily, splays a big hand over your tummy to keep you down.

“Weren’t me, was it?” He pinches your clit between his thumb and pointer finger, dips the middle into your drippy cunt to test the waters. “Did that all to yourself ‘cause you wanted some dick, ain’t that right, baby?”

You’re awful cute like this, tears making your eyes all glassy, teeth chattering with the nerves, nostrils flared. Dumb little pup. Wonder what you looked like back then, with your face in the concrete, did you cry this pretty?

“C’mon,” Leon urges, “tell me again, sweetheart.” It’s snug in your cunt, two fingers squished together nicely by your pulsing walls, hot and wet. Makes a sticky sound when he pushes them knuckle-deep.

“Oh god,” you whine, hips bucking up into his palm, clit mashing into the bump of his palm, “it was my fault.” There’s a shaky breath between each of your words, so worked up, heat coiling in your belly.

“Coulda got me in so much trouble,” Leon tuts, shakes his head and you lower your gaze. Squeeze your eyes shut to hide behind the lids. Don’t wanna be blamed for it. “Don’t even care, do you?” He’s quick to remove his fingers, readies his palm to give your cunt a firm spank instead, the pleasure making your entire body jolt. “Just thinkin’ with this stupid fuckin’ pussy.” He spanks you again, cunt makes a wet squelch with the impact. Shit. There’s practically a puddle beneath you, leaking slick down your thighs, all over his jeans. Soaking him to the bone. Like he’s been caught in a monsoon or some shit.

“I’m sorry,” you choke on a sob, let out an ugly sounding hiccup that makes him coo, tilts your chin upward to kiss the salty tears away. “Didn’t mean to do it, Leon.”

Leon clicks his tongue, spanks you once more for good luck. “I know you didn’t, sweetheart, you’re just a bit slow, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you agree tearfully, he can’t help but laugh.

“Oh, that’s alright,” he croons to you so sweetly, like he might be in love with you. He’s not. But this is fun. Most fun he’s had in a long time. “Useless little thing, not good for much, are you?”

“Mhm,” you nod at him, so stupid, empty fuckin’ head.

“That’s alright, you’re good for one thing, sweetheart.” Leon squeezes your thighs, watches the skin dimple, “know what it is?”

“I’m good for you.” You give him a dopey smile, makin’ goo-goo eyes at him. God. Not in a million years.

“Not for me,” he pulls you towards him by your ankles, legs dangling off the bed until you wrap them around his waist, hold him close to you. Leon stands at the edge of the bed, his jeans fall loose around his ankles, he kicks his boxers off. Just to make his life easier. “Just for dick, yeah? You’re real good at taking dick.”

“Only yours, Leon,” you’re so taken by him it’s sickening.

“Nah,” he palms himself, thumb digging into the weepy head, “I think you’ll take any dick you can, sweetheart.” Your ears perk up at the schlick, schlick, schlick as he readies himself, droplets of pre running down his fist.

“I like you so much, Leon,” you’re begging him with your eyes, they flit from his cock to his eyes. Dick to his eyes. Blinking so much it’s making him a little dizzy. You’re all lashes and pouty lips, hands clasped together like you’re praying. “Oh!” You grab at his shoulders when he bullies his cock into you. Pupils blown out, doll lips parted in surprise. There’s not as much pain this time he bets. Cunts like a fucking slip ‘n slide, he’s sure it must feel good.

Leon bottoms out with a grunt. He draws his hips back, shallow thrusts that get you keening, babbling like a little baby ‘bout how much you adore him. Just ‘cause of some dick. God, you really know how to make him feel good. The fat head of his cock hits that spongy spot inside of you just right, ‘cause your back arches up in a way that looks painful. Exorcist type shit. Even hears your bones crack.

“That good, baby?” He laughs lowly in your ear, has to swallow back a groan when you clench tight around him, “c’mon, stop pushing me out, darling.” Leon gives a sharp thrust, pushes his way past your tightness, leaky tip nestled up against your cervix, fleshy and warm. Tiny little pussy you’ve got, no wonder it hurt so bad back then, just about managed to take all of Leon.

“I love you,” you whimper a fervid confession, baring your neck like an animal. He bites into your skin with the aim to break it. Hot and carnal. His heavy balls slap against the fat of your ass, he’s fucking you so good, so deep. Each thrust garners a whiny noise that he hushes with a kiss, gushes of slick running down his shaft and wetting his balls. Messy pup. Never fucked anyone that got so damn wet for him. Mostly ‘cause Leon has a knack for hitting on people who don’t reciprocate. His fingers on your clit is all it takes. Leon feels it, how your cunt forces him out when you cum, with each upwards thrust is a squirt of wetness.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let it all out for me,” Leon rolls his hips into you, the sweat on his brow begins to trickle down his face. He tastes it on his brow.

You're spent. Can’t even lift a finger, going lax on him as he drives himself into your cunt, slams his hips into yours till they bruise. Groaning, his cock spurts all it can inside of you, skin stretching taut as his abs tighten, spilling his load in your cunt. Right where you’d like it. Pulling out didn’t even cross his mind. Pussy is awful good for such a dull face.

“Leon,” you’re giving him a dopey smile, so stupid, lovesick on dick alone, he hasn’t even done anything nice for you.

He hums for you to keep going, slips his cock out with a lewd pop and flops down beside you.

“I really like you,” you nuzzle your nose into his neck, “like loads ‘n loads.”

“I know you do,” Leon states, “I don’t mind keepin’ you around or anything, darling,” like a pet, “just can’t have you fallin’ in love with me.” You look away from him with a scowl. Too late. He knows that.

“I like you, Leon,” you hug his arm, “I don’t… you can stick it in my ass if that’s what you really want, I really don’t mind. I don’t think it’d feel that bad.”

You think that’s gonna keep him around? Might’ve worked when he was twenty. “When I call you, you’ll pick up, won’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I will, Leon.”

“Then we can talk, but you can’t keep calling me, alright?” Work has always been a problem. But now he has you. Loser who’ll stick around to the end of time for him. It’s nice this way. The whole rape thing is behind the both of you too. You’re so set on liking it anyway, not gonna turn him in or anything.

“Okay, Leon,” you’re pouting, but you’re not spoiled so you agree. “What if I miss you?”

“Then you just gotta wait for me.”

“I’ll always wait for you, Leon,” you smile wide, “I don’t have anyone else to wait for.”

Not like he had anyone else either. Quite nice finding the one person in the world that might be lonelier than him. Sadly, it makes Leon feel better about himself, ‘cause at least he has contacts in his phone. He’d be dead if he ended up the way you did. Would’ve knocked back a few pills years ago.

“I really like you though, Leon, and you can rape me again if it makes you like me too,” you’re so incessant, he might just take you up on that offer.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #tw noncon

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 7 months

Note

I know you wrote for Kappa/Euro. Hear me out.. could you write for Euro/Dead from lords of chaos? No one writes for jack kilmer and it drives me insane‼️😭

Pure Fucking Armaggedon

Summary: In the midst of a heavy night of partying with the Black Circle, you crave your boyfriend's attention but just like so often lately, he's very much not interested, leading you to meet your needs somewhere else…

Pairing: Dead x fem!Reader x Euronymous

Word Count: ~3.7k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Talk About Depression/Mental Illness, Talk About Self-Harm, Very Angsty, Hurt/Comfort...ish, Alcohol, Smoking, Cheating…But With A Twist, Fingering, Unprotected P In V, Creampie, Pet Names

A/N: Hi, anonnie! Thank you very much for this ask <3 Before everybody jumps into my inbox about Jack Kilmer: Please don’t, okay? He’s not tickling my brain like Rory does and I’d hate to let y’all down by having requests sitting in my inbox collecting dust 🖤 However, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a lot of fun writing this chaos!

Massive thanks to @spookyorchid for endlessly entertaining my rambles and inspiring me!

Disclaimer: This is solely based on the characters depicted in Lords Of Chaos!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

Could you stomach it anymore

Could you stand to be a breath away

Can you feel the way your face distorts

Did you think that it could be this way

- Stomach It By Crywolf

Your upper lip twitched a little as your gaze darted right into your boyfriend's chestnut-coloured eyes. In a rather stark contrast to yours, Pelle's expression was indifferent whilst he stared back at you, face smeared with a now gray amalgamation of once black and white corpse paint.

"Sorry…" He muttered, his voice lacking the depth and sympathy to really sell his point.

"No…it's, it's okay, really. It makes no sense to pressure yourself when you're not in the mood, no." You shrugged your shoulders at him, very much meaning what you said whilst you still felt that massive rock of repeated disappointment settling down in your stomach.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer then…can I get you something?" Pelle shook his head lightly.

"No, but thanks. I think I should just go to sleep now." The Swede with the long blonde hair allowed himself to slump deeper down into the old, worn out sofa, crossing his arms in front of his chest and with that not just verbally but also physically blocking you out.

"Nighty then…" You mumbled, turning away from your boyfriend to hide just how hard you fought to keep your composure.

Neither the heavy leather jacket, the edgy metal studs and spikes all over nor your trusty Darkthrone shirt hugging your torso were able to shield you from the emotional hurt raging inside of you. It's been months since Pelle last touched or so much as kissed you on the mouth. You knew just fine that something wasn't alright with him, that he was going through an episode again and the last thing you intended on doing was putting any blame for that on him but fuck was it challenging you this time. It didn't go past you how the I love you's had become more and more scarce, how he turned his back to you at night whilst you stared at the ceiling hoping for the oncoming episode to wash over him in a few, swift weeks but his current black hole of depression was unlike anything before. You hardly recognised your boyfriend anymore and felt like nothing but an accessory to the whole band persona he'd put up to cover up how much he was actually hurting on the inside.

To not come off as a soft, little crybaby to everybody else, you stifled your breath and wiped the emerging gush of tears from your lower lash line as fast as you could before making your way out to the densely crowded yard again. Empty bottles of beer lined the way whilst partially smoked-up cigarettes laid scattered all over, the heavy smell of a raging bonfire filled the crisp night breeze. Whilst almost violently looking to the ground to avoid anybody seeing you being about to burst into tears, you rushed to one of the cooling boxes to grab a beer or preferably something stronger. A sense of recklessness washed through you as you dug a deeply green, still halfway full glass bottle from the cooler. Jägermeister would serve you just fine right now.

Armed with the strong booze, you went right back into the house, hiding yourself away from all the action to simply get drunk in peace and solitude.

"Ugh…" Your whole body quivered as the herbal liquor shot down your throat, drenching your mouth in its bitter taste.

Right after the sensation eased up a little, you chased the first swig with a second, deeper one, the alcohol burning its way through your stomach before you'd even reached the corner of the house that could be described as a guest room to slump down on an array of dusty mattresses. With the intense warmth of heavy liquor washing through your body, you curled yourself up, shoving an old pillow underneath your head and before you really realized it, vagrant, quiet tears trickled from the corners of your eyes, pooling at the tear duct to eventually swap over the bridge of your nose. If you were honest with yourself, you felt sick of it, sick of being ignored and pushed away but at the same time you just couldn't bring yourself to point the finger at Per. He simply didn't choose this way of being and feeling yet it felt like he wasn't even trying anymore…which, again, would just be another symptom. You sighed in defeat before treating yourself to another numbing mouthful of booze.

Allowing the tears to just run down your face at their very own pace, you simply wanted to get drunk as fast as possible but even that wouldn't be granted to you, a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door pulling you from your thoughts.

"Huh?" You muttered, sitting up straight again and wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

"Hey…are you okay?" The familiar voice belonging to Øystein asked.

His head peaked through the open door, a messy bunch of black hair framing his face in wavy strands.

"Saw you rushing through the yard and thought checking up on you wouldn't hurt…" He slid his lean statue through the small opening, stepping towards you before crouching down to meet your gaze.

"See? That's part of the problem…you, you care and Pelle just…he just sits there." The words blubbered out of you in an uncontrolled rush accompanied by a new surge of hot tears.

"Hey now…", Euronymous quickly sat down, tucking the frizzy hair behind his ears, "What's going on, hm?"

"I'm so sick of this shit, Øystein… I can't help him, I can't fix him and he just pushes me away time and time again. I'm so done with this bullshit." It practically gushed out of your mouth in a poorly choked-back wail.

"There's a whole horde of people out there, Euro, yet I feel so terribly fucking lonely all the time. Everybody's cheering for Mayhem and for Dead, going on about how fucking cool and true he is for what he's doing to himself on stage but you know what?", You tried to stifle your shaky breaths, "It's not cool. None of it. It's actually fucking terrifying…and it's me who's got to stitch him back to gether every damn time."

With every one of your words, Øystein's eyes widened a little more, partly in understanding about just how much his friend was dragging you through but also in plain sympathy for you.

"Come'ere, yeah? C'mon…if it helps you can squeeze me as hard as you want to, okay?" Euronymous spread both his arms, inviting you in for a tight hug.

Not wasting a second thought on it, you leaned in, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders to squeeze and press as tightly as you could.

"There you go…that's it, right there." Euronymous encouraged you, the palms of his broad hands resting at the back of your head to soothe you with gentle pets and strokes.

"I wish I could help you but none of us really gets through to him anymore…I'm so sorry." Øystein sighed into the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose almost touching the cold, black leather of your jacket.

"I don't even know what's going on with him anymore. Everything is just so terribly wrong and I don't know how much longer I can do this shit, Euro, I really don't." You sniffled, inevitably having the vastly different scent of Euronymous right in front of you sneaking up into your nostrils.

Unlike Pelle, he smelled like stale cigarette smoke, cheap aftershave and beer…maybe not exactly a crowd pleaser but you found comfort in it.

"It's okay. I don't judge you." He whispered to you in a soft tone and it threatened to break you apart from the inside.

"Thank you…", You croaked into his hair, your voice getting weaker with every letter, "I feel so shitty for thinking about it like that but…but I'm so goddamn tired. I-...I just wanna feel loved again."

"To remind you…there's a whole horde of people out there who love you." He tried to cheer you up but ultimately missed the point.

"Not…not like that. Ugh, I sound stupid…" You felt the need to take the words straight back and to just go with Øystein's attempt of calming you.

"No, you don't, seriously.", Euronymous led his fingers to get lost in your hair, fingertips softly stroking across your scalp down to the nape of your neck, "I can't imagine how you came up with enough energy to stay this long in the first place. We both know it's not his fault, neither is it yours or mine but we've all been watching you breaking away because of him. You're not smiling anymore, not screaming your lungs out at the gigs, you're barely even here anymore…he's eating you up."

"I can't just leave, Øystein…" You gradually loosened your death grip around his torso to lean back, your face wet with slowly subsiding tears.

"I know…all I'm saying is that it might be time to think about yourself a little more. It won't help anybody if you get lost in his chaos, too." Before you could raise your own hand to wipe the sleeve of your jacket across your face, Euronymous was already on it, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Whilst taking a deep breath to steady yourself a bit more, the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. You followed how he slightly grinded his teeth together, jaws clenching, withholding something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Øystein?" You furrowed your brows a little, the feeling of something being violently off ebbing through your chest.

"I'm sorry…" That's all he offered to you before cupping your face with the full length of his palm and leaning in to press an anything but timid kiss to your trembling lips.

A part of you, the voice of reason within, practically screamed at you to pull away, to scurry back and to let this go down as nothing but an awkward, boozy, little slip-up, but you didn't move by just an inch as the pungent taste of smoked cigarettes and cheap beer swept into your mouth alongside Euronymous' daring tongue. You simply let it happen, allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and intoxicate you with the dangerously addictive feeling of being wanted, desired by someone.

"Fuck…" You groaned into the nearly bruising kiss, hands reaching out to claw at his utterly worn out Venom shirt to pull him closer to you.

Catching the notion that he had dared to make the right move at the right time, Øystein's palm left your face, both hands roaming over your back down to your ass to simply scoop you into his lap, your legs wrapping themselves around the cold of his bullet-shell belt as the hem of your washed-out, gray denim skirt rode up generously over your fishnet-stocking covered thighs.

"I got you…just hold on to me." Euronymous muttered, trying to catch his breath a little whilst his fingers dug themselves into the curve of your behind, causing you to whine out as you arched your hips impossibly close towards his crotch.

The aching need to feel just something again practically pulsed through every nerve ending and every muscle, pulling you into his tight grasp and for your hands to slip under the soft fabric of his shirt, skin against skin leaving you to crave more. Whilst one of his hands left it's place cupping your ass to hurry down between your bodies, awkwardly fumbling with the buckle of his belt before almost violently pulling down the zipper, a short but heavy pang of guilt jolted through your ribcage, nearly causing you to flinch on the spot. Nothing about this situation at hand was right or somehow, in some crooked way, justifiable to you and yet you made not a single move to stop any of it from happening. You didn’t grasp for Øystein's hand as it hushed from his unzipped pants amidst your legs, the sound of your tights tearing and ripping thundering in your ears, right before curious fingertips brushed over thin lace panties, no. The only reaction it pulled from your body was a needy moan.

"Right there, yeah?" You heard the smirk in his tone without even needing to see it.

Nodding softly, you placed your mouth back onto his, teeth teasingly grazing over his bottom lip.

"Bet that feels even better, babe." At first you didn't know what struck you harder, the endearing pet name or Euronymous' fingers snaking past your slip, dipping right into your soaked folds to draw achingly slow circles around your entrance.

"Please…" You hummed into the kiss, your forehead leaning against his.

"Please, what?", He inquired, fingertips prodding and nudging against your cunt, "Want me to fill you up, no? Such a greedy little thing."

You choked back a whine as Øystein withdrew his hand from your slip to shove the fabric to the side, fingers freeing his rock-hard cock from the confines of his shorts right before thrusting into you with a precise rock of his hips against yours.

"Oh, fuck…" Your moan got lost in his mouth, the delicious feeling of being stretched out so harshly rippling through you.

"How long has it been, huh?" He pushed, drilling himself into you until it threatened to hurt.

"I dunno…four months, maybe five." You couldn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut, the burning heat of arousal and shame creeping into your face in equal parts.

"Yeesh, couldn't leave a girl like you untouched for that long." Euronymous huffed, his other hand steadying your posture with his palm flat against your back as he started rolling his hips, practically bouncing you on his cock.

With your entire body flush with the sensation of Øystein spearheading into you in a firm pace, the last bit of your coherent brain busy muffling and holding back desperate mewls and whimpers, you rendered completely oblivious to what was happening around you…unlike the black-haired guitarist. From the very corner of his eyes, Øystein's attention got pulled towards the semi-open door, the old, wooden floor in front of it creaking treacherously. Just by the way a well familiar pair of thoroughly worn out combat boots barely peaked across the lines of the door frame, he knew that the both of you had been caught right in the act but he didn't so much as even bother to stop from guiding you up and down his throbbing hard on.

"You at least got yourself off here and there, no?" You shook your head.

"Didn't feel right. I- I just hoped things would get back to normal…" You groaned, the sensation of Euronymous' cock stroking over that extra sensitive spot inside of you sending cold, little shivers down your spine.

"Oh, love, then I better make sure to give it to you better than Per ever could…lazy fucker." Øystein scoffed more to his friend and singer hiding next to the door frame than to you but you didn't take any notice of that, your senses way too busy with just keeping it together.

For a moment, Øystein felt actual and very real rage gushing through him. Anger towards his friend for being such an oblivious prick regarding the suffering and all-round neglect he was dragging you through. It was a terribly self-righteous emotion, that he knew for sure, however, he couldn't help himself but to let it fuel the way he rutted into you, burying himself as deep as possible inside of your wet pussy.

The rather morbid thing both of you failed to take notice of was what Dead was doing hidden away in the shadows of the hallway, the crushing humiliation not only going straight to his heart but to his awfully throbbing cock as well, the bitter-sweet masochistic rush leading him to palm himself through his trousers whilst biting down on his fist to not let just one singular sound escape from his twitching lips. The Swede was shamelessly jerking himself off to you getting railed by his closest friend.

"Gonna take good care of you, babe." Øystein groaned in a lust-riddled tone, both of his hands now closing down around your hips to hammer your form onto his cock with every jut and snap of his hips.

It had you bashfully nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the cigarette smoke soaked leather of his jacked cold against your cheek, whilst you still clawed at his sides underneath his shirt.

Your fingers dug into his skin as you felt your walls starting to flutter and contract around Øystein's hard on, the first crushing jolts of your pent-up orgasm rippling through your body, senses being sent into blissful overdrive.

"Good girl…fuck, pulling me in so hard now, huh?" Euronymous' voice cracked and eventually faltered just like the rolls of his lap against yours.

"Issok…", He talked you through your release, shoving himself balls deep into your spasming cunt before flooding your insides with white-hot ropes of his seed, a guttural groan ripping itself free from the depths of his lungs, "Just let yourself go. I gotchu."

The earth-shattering sensation of all the pent-up sexual desperation mixed in with shame and crushing guilt washing through your system had you biting down on his leather-clad shoulder, a fresh surge of tears threatening to swap over your lower lash line at any second.

"Aw, shit." A sore croak from outside the room led both of you to turn your heads so suddenly that it nearly gave you whiplash.

"The fuck?!" You shrieked out, practically jumping from Øystein's lap whilst he was equally busy with tucking himself back in and getting off the mattress.

"I got this!" Euronymous tried to calm you, awkwardly stumbling away from you before tearing the door open and vanishing into the dark hallway.

For a split second your overworked synapses tried to get a vague grasp on what was going down. Feet were hammering down stairs, noisy commotion erupted from inside the house before the sound of shattering glass and incomprehensible screaming and shouting filled the yard.

"Oh fuck no…" You huffed under your breath, wobbly legs nearly giving out as you tried to pull yourself from the mattress.

As soon as you stood upright again, you felt Øystein's load oozing out of you, soaking the flimsy fabric of your slip with every step you took. You dreaded the scenario that was unfolding outside because the yelling didn't seem to die down but much rather escalate further.

"You fucking traitor!" Pelle's raspy voice cut through the night air, hitting you as soon as you slid out the front door.

"Fucking traitor?!", Øystein spat right back whilst your eyes scanned the scenery anxiously, "You're the spineless loser, Per!"

"You fucked my girlfriend, Øystein!" Dead yelled and with his words you noticed Metallion and Jan Axel staring right at you, nothing but drunk confusion washing over their faces.

"And you pathetic fuck got off to it!" Euronymous had to duck down to dodge an empty beer bottle being sent his way.

"You what?!" You directed the question right at your boyfriend before you noticed a tell-tale damp and soaked-through spot right around his zipper.

"Yes, please tell her how you stood outside the room jerking off to your girl breaking down in front of me, Per!" Your bewildered stare rushed towards Øystein now.

"Huh? You…you saw him or what now?!?" The guitarist shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Jan Axel tried to intervene but both Per and Øystein shushed him almost simultaneously.

"You shut the fuck up!" Pelle sneered, looking like he was about ready to throw one of the plenty empty bottles of beer after his drummer too.

"No.", You huffed, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso to shield you from the creeping cold, "He actually got a point, because…what the hell?!"

"Pumpkin, I can explain, I promise." Per raised his hands in a soothing manner but you didn't feel like having any of it.

"Don't you dare sweet-talk me now, Pelle! You've been pushing me away for months but…you get off to, well, this?" You indirectly confirmed all that had been happening between Øystein and you.

"No. Just no. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck this shit. I'm not even remotely drunk enough to deal with this shitshow right now." To undoubtedly cement your point, you took a few swift steps toward Øystein who was looking at you with wide eyes as you fished for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, drawing one for yourself before deliberately putting it to your lips.

"Yes, I fucked Øystein.", You threw your hands into the air after lighting the cigarette, "Maybe I should've done that much sooner, who knows?"

The last sentence was solely aimed to hurt Per as much as he had hurt you.

"Fucking hell, I'm so sick of all this dysfunctional shit…", You just shook your head before heading back inside, "Better none of you disrupt the date I have with a piss-warm bottle of Jägermeister now or you fucking bet I'll cut your dick off!"

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #rory culkin lords of chaos #lords of chaos #jack kilmer #euronymous x reader #euronymous smut #euronymous #dead lords of chaos #euronymous x fem!reader #dead x fem!reader #jack kilmer smut #jack kilmer x fem!reader #mayhem fic #mayhem

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joenotexotic99 · 1 year

Text

The pleasure before the storm

masterlist

Five Hargreaves x f!reader

Warning: slight spoilers for season 3, smut, oral f!receiving, hand job male and female receiving, bathtub sex, riding, unprotected sex (rember it won't harm her to wear some armor,) cream pie, language, squirting, face riding, and of course fluff.

Lmk if I missed any :)

-Five and reader are both in there 20s-

Word count: 1.5K

-I am not responsible for what you read on the internet so please do not blame me for adult content-

A/n: I know this is not my regular Fandom however I ABSOLUTELY love the umbrella academy and there is a SEVERE lack of smut in this Fandom so I did a favor for all the whores for five out there and wrote this

Enjoy

*I'm too lazy to write a whole ass backstory for this so just imagine that you and five got wrapped up with each other in the 60's and fell in love or some shit and just went with them to the future*

Everything was finally ok for the most part. Everyone was finally able to let out a sigh of relief, especially five. His entire life he never got the chance to feel a feeling that wasn't stress or worry or anger. He wasn't fighting or getting hurt. The only emotion he was enveloped in was his love for you.

God, you drove him mad. You were able to find that soft spot in him, so. fucking. quickly. And he loved it. He loved that no matter what he could come back from God knows where or when and be with you. To hold you, kiss you, fuck you.

Steam filled the room as you laid your head on five's chest, back to his front. You let the warm water of the bath relieve any tight mussels that were left. Five had rubbed your thigh up and down in a loving manner.

You were letting the warmth of the atmosphere slowly lull you to sleep when five's hand crept slowly up to your inner thigh. Your sleep was quickly replaced by a different warmth that was rapidly turning to heat.

"Five" you breathed. Praying that he won't stop.

He didn't reply, instead drawing his middle finger to the place you needed him most. Lazily rubbing your clit.

You squirmed due to the sensation but before you could do much, five moved his free arm around you keeping you in place.

He didn't say a word. He simply quickened his pace on your sensitive nub, keeping a strong hold on you. Making it so the only thing you could do was grip the bathtub and take it.

You moaned his name like a prayer. Over and over and over. A colorful array of language spewed out of your mouth. Head thrown back. The slight feeling of five creating a hickey on your neck. The feeling of your quickly building orgasm took over everything you simply need a little push just one. small. push.

You heard five say one word that tips you over the edge.

"Come"

And it was over. You squeezed the bathtub until your hands turned white. Letting pleasure wash over you.

Your senses came back as you laid to catch your breath. Five's arm that was around you moved to your side and prompted you to turn around. As you sat down in his lap facing him. Five stroked your cheek. And leaned in to kiss your lips. He pulled back, hand still resting on your cheek.

"You did so good for me my love" he stated. While pulling you back to another kiss with more fever this time.

You whined into the kiss wanting more. You reached down between your body's to stroke his already hard and leaking erection.

Five closed his eyes at the feeling of your soft hands around him. As much as he adored the feeling of your hand he wanted something else.

He moved his own hand down and stopped your movements. You looked up at him with the most desperate hungry eyes. Fuck, five could Cum from that look alone if he wanted to. Five gripped your sides and brought you closer, hovering right over his length. He put his mouth right up to your ear and whispered

"What are you waiting for? Ride me"

That's all it took for you as you sunk on to his dick. Both of your heads are thrown back at the action. Five kept his hand on your sides as you slid up then back down. You repeated the action until you set a fast rough pace. The burn in your thighs long forgotten due to the overwhelming sensation.

You sunk down as five pushed up to meet you halfway. Water splashed over the sides of the tub creating a puddle around it. The temperature of the room quickly rose as a layer of sweat started to form on both of you. The sound of your moans were music to his ears as you grounded down on him. God he never felt better. If he were to die he was a thousand percent sure that he would wake up to find that this was his heaven. And he would not complain one bit. The way your breasts bounced every time your body's slammed into each other. The way you would throw your head back and chant his name or tell him to not stop. He Wasn't completely sure if this was even real. Maybe he did die in the jump because this moment right here was fucking ethereal. The way you squeezed around him brought him back to reality. He knew you were about to come. And so was he. Your pace got more brutal until you stopped letting your orgasm consume you. White spots clouding your vision. You felt so good. So fucking good. Five spilled into you letting out his own groan from his high.

The water was now cold making you shiver.

Five noticing the drop in temperature as well he sat up and spoke.

"here let's get you out and back to our room huh?" Five asked as you tiredly nodded your head in approval. Five stood and picked you up bridal style. He set you down on a bench. He grabbed one of the towels you two left out prior to your bath. And wrapped in a round your shoulders. He soothingly rubbed your arms. You clung to the white towel as five stood up to fetch the other one. He wrapped it around his waist and walked over to the bath and leaned over to take out the plug letting it drain.

You stood up to remove the towel from around your shoulders and wrapped it around your front.

Five reached his hand out letting go you know to take it. You to walked hand in hand to your rooms miraculously without anyone noticing.

Five being the responsible one had the key with him and unlocked the room to find it pleasantly empty. You both walked in as the door closed behind you with the sound of a click signaling that it had locked.

Five turned around facing you and slowly walked forward until your back hit the door.

Five played with edge of the towel as he looked into your eyes

"You think you can take one more for me sweetheart?" Five asked

You nodded your head yes not trusting your voice.

"I need to hear you say it" Five stated

"God fuck, please" you whined

Five Immediately ripped the towel off your body and threw it to God knows where. He quickly dropped to his knees and skipped the teasing needing a taste of you. He grabbed your thighs and put them over his shoulders. Diving into your heat. His tongue licks up every square inch of your sweet sweet cunt. Eventually landing on your already overestimated clit. As his finger pushed into your sex. Pumping in and out fast. His tongue doing figure eights. He closed his eyes loving every second of this. You ran your fingers through his hair as you pushed his mouth closer, practically riding his face, chasing your high.

"Fuck five" you moaned out pulling on his hair making him moan into you.

The vibrations making scream from overstumulating pleasure. You couldn't care less about your neighbors. As you rode his face, the coil in your lower abdomen got thinner and thinner with every second until it snapped. A rush of heat ran through your body. Every nerve In your body was on fire. When you came down from your third high of the night you looked down to see five's face covered in your juice. You hadn't realized what you had done, to wrapped up In the moment. You weren't even sure you could squirt until now. Five stood up and looked at you.

You were scared of his reaction seeing as how you had never done that before. However a wide grin took over his face. He picked you up, legs wrapping around him as he walked over to bottom bunk of the bed. Setting you down. He pulled the towel off his body doing the same to his towel as yours. He was already hard again

He fell on top of you letting his hands catch him. He kissed you hard again again and again before he pulled away.

" I want you to do that again," five declared. Sex and want dripping from his voice.

"Do what?" You asked, making sure you were thinking the same thing as him.

"You know what" he whispered, lining up with your entrance and pushing, just to start a brutal pace of wonderful pleasure.

You were in for a long and fun night.

#the unbrella academy #five hargreaves x you #five Hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves smut #the umbrella academy season 3 #tua x reader #the umbrella academy imagine #aidan gallagher

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

Text

As The Gods Intended

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x original female character (Aela Targaryen) Warnings: DD;DNE, twincest/incest/Targcest, explicit smut, dubcon/noncon, angst. 18+ Word count: ~4k

Summary: In the wake of Lucerys' Velaryon's death, Aemond panics and makes some life altering choices that will have catastrophic consequences for his twin sister, Aela. Based on this request.

Thanks and spanks to my emotional support grotbag @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for enduring my snippets, beta'ing this into something readable and her unparalleled knowledge of High Valyrian. Love you forever.

The head and neck of Lucerys Velaryon’s dragon, Arrax, washed up beneath the cliffs below Storm’s End three days ago. Lucerys’s body has yet to be found.

It has been almost a week, six agonisingly long days, since Aela Targaryen last saw or heard from her twin brother, Aemond. He is presumed dead, along with his beloved Vhagar.

Aemond had been sent to Storm’s End to acquire Lord Borros Baratheon’s allegiance to their brother King Aegon II in exchange for agreeing to marry one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters. It had transpired that Lucerys had also been sent, acting as a messenger for his mother, Rhaenyra, to acquire Lord Baratheon’s allegiance to her own claim to the Iron Throne. When neither prince had been heard from following their arrival, further messengers were dispatched. Lord Baratheon had revealed that Lucerys had arrived in the Round Hall while Aemond was present and had received a frosty reception from his uncle. An altercation between the two had caused Borros to ask them both to leave. The two had not been seen since and neither had their dragons.

Aela had wept upon hearing the news of the discovery of Arrax’s remains. It was not difficult to imagine what had happened and it had clearly ended in tragedy. She’d lost her nephew and her beloved twin brother. The colour went out of Aela’s world that day. While a funeral for Lucerys had been held, one for Aemond had yet to occur. Their mother, Alicent, could not bring herself to say goodbye. For this Aela was grateful; she was not ready to let him go either.

It is long past midnight as Aela sits by her window, staring out over King’s Landing. Sleep has evaded her since Aemond went missing. Whose bed will she climb into when she has a nightmare now? Her twin flame has been snuffed out and she is lost.

A shadow in the candlelight of her peripheral vision causes her to turn her head toward the door and she freezes. Aemond. There he stands, a serene look in his uncovered blue eye, staring at her from the doorway. Her heart leaps into her throat at the sight, quickly replaced by a feeling of overwhelming joy as he closes the gap between them and pulls her into a tight embrace.

“Hāedus, it is so good to see you,” he murmurs, stroking her long white hair. Sister.

Aela feels tears of happiness prickle her eyes. She pulls back to study his face, still unable to quite comprehend that the man in front of her is really her twin brother. “Aemond… I thought you weren’t coming back… You are alive!” He gives her a gentle reassuring smile. “I am alive, but for how long is up to you, dōnus mēres. Will you help your brother?” Sweet one.

She nods her head without hesitation. “Anything for you, lēkys. But first, we need to tell mother you are safe. She will be so pleased!” Brother.

“No!”

Aela flinches at the harshness of Aemond’s tone. He has never spoken to her with such a lack of care before.

His face softens and he cups her cheeks. “Forgive me, Aela; I do not mean to be so cruel. But you must understand that my life depends on your discretion.”

She looks up at him with wide, imploring eyes. “Why can no one know that you are back?” He takes a step back from his twin sister, grasping her hands in his. He inhales a deep breath before he speaks. “There has been a terrible tragedy… one that I will surely get the blame for.” A sense of unease creeps over her. “You mean - what happened to Luke?”

He pauses for a moment, his thumbs rub circles on the backs of his sister’s hands. “So you have heard? You must understand that it was an accident. Would you really allow your brother to be punished for something that is not his fault?”

“Of course not!” She is horrified by the very idea. “Then you must come with me, hāedus. Only you can save me. Get dressed.” The urgency of Aemond’s voice is enough for her to know there is no more room for questions or arguments. She hurries behind her modesty screen, strips out of her nightgown and begins to redress in the clothes she had discarded earlier that evening.

Her eyes go wide with surprise as she sees him reach for her nightgown as it hits the floor. She wonders what he is doing, but her train of thought is cut short when he throws a hooded cloak over the screen at her. It is the same one she has worn many times to sneak around Flea Bottom unrecognised.

“Put that on. Hurry,” he commands.

Aela does as she is told and wraps the cloak around her body, coming out from behind the privacy screen.

He steps towards her, pulling the hood over her head and stroking her cheek. “Good girl,” he praises, taking her hand and leading her through the same passage they have used to sneak away from the Red Keep many times before.

Aela notices her nightgown is still bunched up in Aemond’s free hand. He is walking at too quick of a pace for her to be able to ask about it, despite her burning curiosity. Her legs struggle to keep up with his long strides as he hurries them down Aegon’s High Hill, along Shadowblack Lane and out towards the Blackwater Rush.

She gasps as she watches him discard her nightgown onto the muddy bank.

“Aemond - what are you doing?”

He turns to her, his face eerily calm as he speaks matter-of-factly. “They will say you were so stricken by grief over the death of your twin that you drowned yourself. Don’t you see? It is the perfect plan. We can disappear forever.”

She feels a chill run down her spine. She stares at him with abject horror. “You want… people to think we’re dead?” The negative intonation of her response seems to go unheeded by him. He simply nods. “It is the only way. I cannot face what I have done. I will be branded a kinslayer.”

“But you said it was an accident…”

She feels like she is experiencing a nightmare from which she is desperate to wake up. Her heart races as she stares at her twin brother’s face, searching for any sign of regret or remorse for his actions. Waves of nausea pulsate through her stomach.

“It was an accident,” Aemond insists. “I only meant to scare him…”

She feels her heart constrict, and a sob bubbles in her throat. “Gods, Aemond… What did you do to Luke?”

“I didn’t do anything!” he snaps, his nostrils flaring with annoyance as he stares down at his sister. “If that stupid bitch Maris Baratheon hadn't taunted me, I would never have gone after him. Had Vhagar heeded my commands, he would not be dead. So, you see, none of this is my fault.”

Aela reels at the revelation. Hot tears roll down her cheeks. She shakes her head, backing away from Aemond. “You are a murderer-”

He grabs her by her upper arms, his grip so tight it will surely leave bruises.

“I am your brother! He was a bastard, he took my eye! How can you be so cruel?” He shakes her slightly, continuing. “Have I not suffered enough? Would you prefer to see me dead? Do you not love me?”

A pang of guilt blooms heavy in Aela’s chest as she looks tearfully at his frantic face. “Of course I do-”

“Then you must come with me. Do this for me. There is no one that will ever love you like I love you, Aela. We are twins.”

He takes her hand once more and leads her along the banks of the Blackwater Rush and away from King’s Landing as he speaks. She is too overcome by grief and shock to fight it.

“It will be a bit of a walk, I’m afraid,” he informs her. “I could not land Vhagar too close to the city without drawing attention.”

At the mention of his dragon, her pace falters a little, remembering her own. “What of Myrmex? I cannot simply leave him.”

When Aela and Aemond had been born, they’d each had a dragon’s egg placed in their cradle. While his had never hatched, and he’d later claimed Vhagar, her own had. A beautiful emerald green dragon, named Myrmex who she’d grown and bonded with over the years. The thought of leaving him behind in the Dragonpit was simply too much for Aela’s heart to bear.

He does not look back at her, leading her along the riverbank. “A necessary sacrifice, I’m afraid, dōnus mēres. Taking him is too much of a risk. You’d be seen.” She sniffles, allowing herself to be pulled along by her twin brother. “But he is my dragon… I love him…”

He stares coldly down at her. “I am your brother. Myrmax may have hatched in your cradle, but you and I shared the same womb. How can you be so selfish?”

His voice softens, and she looks away guiltily. “He will be well cared for in the Dragonpit. And who knows? Perhaps he will find you again one day. Your bond with him is strong. Almost as strong as ours.”

Aela’s heart aches for her dragon. She and Aemond walk the rest of the way in silence until the gargantuan frame of Vhagar looms ahead.

“Where will we go?” she asks meekly.

“I have found us a place. You need not worry. I have spent the last few days preparing for your arrival.”

“You - you planned this?” She knows she doesn’t even need to ask this. Of course he has. Aemond had always been too clever, too calculating for his own good. It was a quality she had once admired. Now, it frightened her.

“I knew as soon as I saw Luke fall from the sky that there was no coming back from this. And I could not just leave you,” he says, helping to lift her into Vhagar’s saddle, climbing on behind her. “Worry not, hāedus, lēkia will take care of you now.”

Her mind goes blank as soon as Vhagar takes to the sky. The rush of cold air and the weightless roiling of her stomach with every movement supersedes all other thoughts and feelings. Though she has ridden on dragonback many times with Aemond before, she imagines she feels his chest pressed tighter to her back than usual. His arms seem to wrap more firmly around her waist. Surely it is just that, though; her imagination.

Eventually, as dawn breaks, Vhagar lands in the foothills of the Red Mountains, close to the stormlands' border with the Reach, east of the Cockleswhent and southeast of the Blueburn. She looks out over the ruins of Summerhall Castle, once used as a place for members of House Targaryen to spend their summers. It had been almost destroyed in a fire and never restored to its former glory.

“Here, Aemond? You can’t be serious,” she says as her brother helps her down from Vhagar.

“I know it’s not much to look at, jorrāelītsos, but I think you’ll find it rather comfortable. And no one will come looking for us here.” She hopes that he is wrong. There is nothing she wants more than for them to be found and an end to this madness. As though he senses her trepidation, Aemond’s eye makes contact with hers, her feet finally reaching the ground. “And you’d better hope no one finds us - you are implicated in this, after all.” Little love.

She is too trusting of her twin brother to pick up on the subtle threat in his voice. Anguished, she protests. “But I haven’t done anything!”

“It would not seem that way to anyone from the outside looking in.” He cocks his head at her. “You are my twin sister. You have faked your own death and come away with me after I killed our nephew. Some might say you’d had the whole thing planned all along… I would simply hate for that to happen to you, hāedus. My heart could not take it.”

She wails piteously at this. She dreads to think what people will say about her. Her heart breaks at the idea that she could ever be considered a co-conspirator to murder.

“Do not worry, dōnus mēres,” he soothes, pulling her tight to his chest. “Lēkia will protect you.” He holds her a few moments longer, until her tears finally subside. “Let’s get you inside and show you around your new home, hm?”

Aemond places a hand on the small of his twin sister’s back, ushering her inside. Large portions of the castle are without a roof and in complete ruin.

“We will repair all of this eventually, restore it to its former glory,” he says airily, guiding her through.

The few rooms that are habitable have had the remaining furniture pushed into them to create a makeshift solar, sleeping quarters and a space for them to eat. It does not quite live up to the lavish surroundings of the Red Keep, but is certainly not the squalor that she had been expecting.

“This is… nice,” she says, a slight hint of surprise to her tone.

He smiles warmly. “It will be the perfect place for us to start our family.”

“Start a family?” she asks. Dread is beginning to gnaw its way through her insides. She is almost afraid to hear Aemond’s answer.

“Yes, hāedus. We will marry and create heirs. We will start our own faction of House Targaryen.”

“Aemond, we cannot! You are to be betrothed to a Baratheon and me to a Lannister. You are my brother. My twin!”

Her heart races as she looks at him with pleading eyes. He remains utterly unaffected by her resistance.

“Those betrothals are null and void. They are a part of old lives. We are forging a new one. And so what if we are siblings? Helaena and Aegon are married, and the Conqueror married both of his sisters. Why should we be any different?”

She is panicked. She does not know what to say. “Because… because… I don’t…”

“You don’t love me!” he accuses, cutting her off, his brow furrowed, his blue eye alight with outrage.

“I do love you, lēkys, I do!” she attempts to argue back, tears welling in her eyes.

“Then you will obey me,” he states coolly.

She gasps as Aemond’s mouth descends upon hers, the sound cuts off as an “mmmph” as he presses his lips to hers. He tangles his fingers into her hair, holding her head in place as he kisses her. It feels wrong and yet she kisses him back, ignoring the pit that is opening in the depths of her guts, eager not to anger him further.

She has kissed her brother on the lips before, but they have been chaste kisses between siblings. What he is bestowing upon her now is a passionate kiss, filled with lust, the type reserved for lovers. She has never experienced a kiss like this before. She never anticipated that the first time would be with her twin brother. She feels nauseated.

When he finally pulls away, he scoops her into his arms, carrying her towards the bed. “We shall create an heir today, jorrāelītsos.”

Her blood runs cold at the suggestion. “Aemond, we can’t - I can’t - I’ve never… My virtue is still intact!”

She attempts to squirm out of his arms, but he is too strong for her.

His voice is saccharinely sweet as he smiles down at her. “As it should be, hāedus. You have waited for your brother like a good girl.”

She shakes her head, panic rooting itself deep inside of her as he lays her on the bed. She opens her mouth to speak, but the words will not come.

“You see, Aela, we are two halves of the same whole. You and I were created for each other. Isn’t that beautiful? No one else can have you but me.”

He cards his fingers through her long, white hair and strokes her cheek, before pulling at the lacings on the front of her bodice.

Aela finally finds her voice, feebly attempting to push Aemond’s hands away. “Lēkys, no, please!”

Aemond shushes her, swatting at her hands and continuing to undress her. “You love your lēkia, don’t you? I have waited many years to see you all grown up. You will not deny your beloved brother his prize, will you?”

She whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut and trying not to think about the fact that her twin brother is now stripping her naked.

The cold air causes her skin to break out into gooseflesh as Aemond finally pulls away her small clothes.

“Open your eyes for me, dōnus mēres,” he whispers.

As her lilac eyes open slowly, she is met by the sight of him sitting above her, drinking in the sight of her with appreciation shining brightly in his gaze.

“Gevie,” he states simply. Beautiful.

It is then she realises that he has also removed his clothing. She stares at him wide eyed. She has not seen her brother naked since they were children. They had shared a bed up until they were thirteen years old, until one morning she’d awoken to find the hardness of his arousal pressed against her buttocks. She’d been unsure of what it was and after speaking to her mother and seeing her horrified reaction, she’d understood it was something wrong. Aela and Aemond had been made to sleep apart ever since.

“Feel what you do to me,” he murmurs, taking her hand and wrapping it around his hardened cock.

She whines, attempting to pull her hand away, but he keeps it there. He is firm and warm to the touch.

“You - you cannot put that inside of me,” she squeaks. “It will not fit.”

“Silly girl,” he chuckles. “You were made specifically to take me inside of you. No one else. But I will prepare you first.”

Tears well up in her eyes as he passes his digits through the delicate silver curls of her mound, swiping his fingers through her folds. He roughly inserts his middle finger inside of her, curling it upwards and dragging it in and out. She has never even touched herself so intimately, so to have the intrusion of her brother between her legs is surreal and makes her want to curl in on herself to hide her shame.

“So tight,” he comments, almost as if he is speaking to himself. “And becoming so wet.”

“Aemond, I don’t like this!” she whines, covering her face with her hands.

“Oh, but your body tells another story entirely,” he says, his tone mocking as he inserts a second finger.

She cries out at the sensation. “That’s too much! You’re putting too much inside of me!”

He chuckles dryly. “You’ll need to take much more than two fingers if I’m to fuck you. How else will you bear my children, idañītsos?” Little twin.

She shakes her head against the pillows, attempting to close her legs around Aemond’s wrist and halt his movements. “I don’t - I don’t-”

Never slowing the movement of his fingers inside of her, he cuts her off. “You don’t… love your twin brother? You’d refuse me and break my heart? Are you really so cruel?” She sobs, her own guilt outweighing the disgust and shame she feels at the unwilling invasion of her body. “No, no, no. I love you, Aemond, I swear I do!”

“Mmm,” he concurs. “Then this is how you show me you love me. Do you understand?”

She freezes as he withdraws his fingers from her, replacing them with the tip of his cock. She screws her eyes shut, screaming out at the pain as he pushes inside. It feels like she is being torn in half.

“Gods…you are so tight,” he grits out. “You have to relax, or I will never get inside.”

Her body is wracked with sobs. She feels like the intrusion is unending. The pain is unlike anything she has ever experienced. White hot flames of agony lick their way between her legs and up her spine.

“Allow me to put you out of your misery,” he says softly.

For a moment, she dares to hope he will have mercy on her and stop, until she feels him clamp a hand over her mouth. In one rough shove, he pushes himself into her to the hilt. Her agonised shriek is muffled by his palm.

His eye flutters closed in satisfaction. “Finally, we are one. As the gods intended.”

Her mind reels. Surely the gods would never intend for something that feels so vile and so painful?

Beginning to thrust in and out of her, barely giving her body time to adjust to him, he grunts. “Does this feel good, hāedus? Is lēkia making you feel good?”

She is mortified by the question. Why would anything so vulgar ever feel good?

“No,” she answers honestly, “You are hurting me.”

“It doesn’t feel pleasurable because you don’t love me the way that I love you,” he states, continuing to thrust inside of her. “This feels good for me, because I love you with all my heart. Lēkia will help you to love him. Don’t worry.”

Aemond presses a finger to the pearl at the apex of her sex, rubbing tight circles as he continues to rut into her.

Her hips jolt at the new sensation, unsure of what’s happening to her body. Her hands fly to his shoulders, clutching at them desperately. “What - what - are you doing to me?”

His face is smug as he moves above her. “You’ve never touched yourself have you, idañītsos? So innocent and all mine. I will bring you pleasure like you have never felt before. Only I can give you that.”

He speeds up both his ministrations to her bud alongside his thrusts, and Aela can begin to feel the inside of herself clench around him. It is completely involuntary, but it’s apparent that he feels it too.

“Oh, you like that?” he mocks. “Good girl.”

The moan that escapes her mouth sounds alien to her. The slow burning ache between her legs that builds towards a heated pressure is unfamiliar to her. Her eyes go wide and she feels like she needs to push towards something, but she is unsure how. She whines, clawing at his shoulders, desperate to ground herself.

“You are about to peak, hāedus,” he tells her. “Let go for lēkia.”

He gives her nipple a harsh tweak and increases the pressure he is exerting between her legs.

Aela’s back arches off of the mattress with the force of her pleasure, jerking her body against his. He places a hand against the rear of her pelvis, holding her against him as he fucks her through her orgasm. White hot sparks shoot their way through her body, a loud cry of pleasure releasing from her mouth. Her body goes limp in Aemond’s gasp. Her eyes are heavy lidded and pleasure drunk.

He uses her body, seeking his own end. A few more thrusts and he spills deep inside of her with a low groan. She barely registers the feeling of him filling her up.

When he pulls out, her cunny is a mess of blood from her maidenhead being broken and his seed leaking out of her. He hums appreciatively, mixing it together and pushing it back inside with his fingers.

She hisses, a mixture of pain and oversensitivity causing her to jerk her hips away from his touch.

“Forgive me, hāedus. We do not want this to go to waste if you are to be with my child.”

Aela knows she should protest, but what’s done is done. It is too late.

She is pliant, allowing him to pull her to his chest and hold her close.

“Avy jorrāelan, idañītsos”, he murmurs, kissing her temple. I love you, little twin.

Too tired to fight him any longer, Aela finally gives in. “Avy jorrāelan, lēkys.” I love you, brother.

Aemond smiles as his twin sister drifts off to sleep on his chest.

“I know you do, jorrāelītsos. We will make such a happy family.”

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stickyspeckledlight · 26 days

Text

Boop! 🐾

(L didn't get this out yesterday but I was also a smidge busy balduring my gates and stockpiling knock off thin mints)

Unfortunately I do not have enough thoughts to write a drabble, but yan!aventurine would totally boop you.

The worst part is that you have no one to blame but yourself. On one particular night, when you weren't quite pushed to your limit but where your thoughts certainly did verge on the homicidal, an idea crosses your mind that, you believe to be utter genius in the moment: if you cannot overpower him or outwit him, then you certainly can use your meager mental faculties to bamboozle the fucker.

It's ingenious, you're certain! A touch that is not provocative, not aggressive, but OH so...powerful. A primordial innocence primed with mischief and tomfoolery. An action of such utter stupidity that no one in their right mind could even begin to react to.

He has been attempting to goad you into playing one of his games for the past five centuries (and no, you affirm that your sense of time is quite in order), and from having performed this song and dance innumerous times, it is about now when he says or does something to make you give in, and then entraps you in his hold before you can escape.

It is you who takes the initiative.

A demented grin full of malice and desperation spreads on your face as you ready your finger, and rush over to him, and

Boop! right on his nose.

And it works. He is too stunned; either by the stupidity of the situation, or that you've initiated contact. But you do not fret over the reason. You seize the opportunity and slip into the bathroom, locking it and securing it with a chair you grabbed for good measure. In the throes of your victory, no rational thought crosses your mind.

But all actions have consequences, and this very true fact catches up to you. Aventurine has not come banging on the door or mocking you as you thought he would. You have not heard from him at all. This is a good thing, but it makes you nervous---compounded by the fact you cannot stay in the bathroom forever.

Sure, you could theoretically survive here for three weeks, as the only thing you'd be lacking was food. You had a toilet, and a shower and bath to decompress in, even! And if you wanted to lay down? You could merely set up a haven of comfort with the millions of towels Aventurine keeps in his gargantuan bathroom. It was a great place to bunker in for sure!

.......but do you really want to starve? Like, do you really, really, really want to put yourself through that over him? You do hate him and want to see him suffer, but your mother and every self-help book ever says that you should love yourself! And unfortunately and fortunately for you, you do love yourself enough to not want to go through it. But, you can at least be strategic about it. Nabbing supplies in the night? No, Aventurine has proven himself capable of operating without a wink of sleep for good knows how long. The key to this operation is to leave when he's left! Ahahaha! Good job, you! You really are a bonafide genius! Nous ought to send you an invitation to the ranks of the Society!

(you're aware that he could just bust down your door without issue, but you'll take reprieve when you can get it, you know?)

So, you wait, and keep on waiting even after you hear the entrance close. You will not take any risks, and you wait for what you think is a good hour or three. And then, you emerge.

You are swift and precise, making a beeline towards the kitchen to stock up, and just as you are about to open the cabinet to nab a box of succulent bioengineered cheese crackers---

"Boop!" a gentle pressure mounts on your nose.

There really isn't any winning with this guy, you think. After this nasty surprise, he "revokes your bathroom privileges," mounting it with a lock and essentially requiring his permission with the key card he gives you for it.

And worst of all, your concept of utter genius comes to haunt you in your every waking moment. Coming home from a long day of work? Boop! Threatening your family and friends? Boop! Playing Animal Walking? Boop! Throwing you into a bare room handcrafted for sensory deprivation? Boop! Post nut clarity? Boop!

You then see the one glaring folly in your initial thought process: why did you ever assume Aventurine to be in the right mind in any way or any situation?!

#lol i wonder if i can even post this to ao3 #eh maybe i can adpat it into an actual drabble but also this is so inherently tied to tumblr that it's tough #it's fine i wrote this in like twenty minutes or something as a breather from actual fic writing lmao #no what do you mean i have to read three chapters before next class that's stupid #yandere #yandere aventurine #yandere hsr #honkai star rail #aventurine hsr #reader takes home a massive L #well then again they aren't home but aventurine would also then beg to differ #yandere aventurine x reader

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ilici · 1 year

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eywa sent.

jake x metkayina!avatar.

Summary: Jake thought that he could only ever have one mate.

Warnings: Mention of death.

Full Story! Series may happen!

Word Count: 956.

After the death of Neytiri, Jake sought refuge and a new home. Which led him and his family to the Metkayina clan, where he would soon head off. The move was hard for the family, they had lost their mother in a freak accident. One that the kid's blamed themselves for.

Jake reassured them that it was not their fault. Though, nothing could change their mind on the issue. Lo'ak felt the most guilty, as he was the one who came up with the idea to go to the battlefield. Now it led to them losing a family member.

"We are almost there, Tuk."

Kiri whispered to the youngest, holding her close. The family was exhausted, to say the least. They lack sleep and their eyes were dry from the amount they cried. The salt from the sea was not helping them, as it kept blinding their vision for seconds.

As they landed, everyone fell together, huddling next to one another for security. Jake who had been in front of them protectively, greeted those who passed him. Soon a herd was surrounding them, making most nervous. Neyetam had sensed that they would not be welcomed warmly, as they were getting mixed looks.

"Toruk Makto."

Jake looked up at the sound of the voice, and he mustered up a welcoming smile, as he greeted Tonorwari.

"Long travel? Where is your mate?"

At the mention of Neytiri, everyone's heart clenched and Jake looked over his shoulder at his children and sighed looking back over at the Olo'eyktan, and tilted his head slightly.

"My mate is no more. We sadly lost her in the midst of war."

He told him, and Ronal finally made her appearance, a scowl on her face at the sight of the forest Na'vi.

"We do not want war. Do not bring your war here."

Tonowari stated, and Jake shook his head and pulled Tuk closer to him when he felt her grab his leg.

"Our war is over. I came here to seek safety for my family. A new home."

Ronal hissed at this, walking and grabbing Lo'ak by his hand, raising it up disgusted at the sight of a fourth finger.

"They have demon blood in them."

She announced, and Jake scoffed and raised his hand showing he was once human, and that he himself adapted to the Na'vi way.

"He is to stay. My children will teach you our way."

Jake was in his Marui as his children were in the water being trained, he constantly tried to focus while he was training but his mind was somewhere else.

"Zola‘u nìprrte’."

Jumping at the voice, Jake looked up and his yellow eyes met those of light blue. Freezing, he got up quickly and walked over to her, and greeted her.

"Thank you."

He said as she welcomed him. Looking around, he looked down at her, taking notice of how much shorter she was in comparison to him.

"Nga za‘u ftu peseng?"

She asked, her voice silky and quiet, Jake could melt at the tone of her voice.

"Oh uh. I come from the forest."

He stammered, his mind foggy as he was realizing he heard her native language instead of it coming to him like English.

"I am sorry for not greeting you when you landed. I was out hunting."

She explained to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his Marui.

"Come. Brother said you struggled to train."

Then it clicked with Jake, this was Tonowari's sister. The one he had heard so much about since he had been here for the past couple of hours. The great hunter.

"I will train you."

She told him and Jake followed in behind her, noting that she was as excellent in grammar as he was.

"You're Tr'gik?"

He asked to confirm and stopped his movement when she turned around abruptly smiling up at him.

"You're the great Toruk Makto."

She said up to him, in one could only suggest envy. Jake chuckled and nodded his head, and she smiled brightly.

"Jake. You can call me Jake."

He told her as she dived into the water, resurfacing in a matter of seconds.

"Jake. Come."

Looking back to his Marui where Neytiri's bow was visible, he looked down at the female and smiled slightly. Jumping in Jake resurfaced and followed her as she began swimming.

"Your children are lovely."

She told him as they watched them train from a distance as Jake was attempting to bond with a Skimwing. Tr'gik gave him encouraging words, as he kept falling off under the water.

After weeks of being here, Jake grew accustomed to the way things worked. He knew how to ride his Skimwing, and even grew a fond relationship with the Olo'eyktan's sister. Though his children were wary of their newfound closeness, they realized how happy he seemed.

Kiri even told him that Neytiri sent her his way through Eywa. As they grew closer, Jake started questioning if he could only ever have one mate for the rest of his life.

"Jake!"

Hearing her voice, his heart sped up as he walked over to her as she was splashing Tuk with water carefully. The younger squealed in delight as she played with the elder.

"Nga yawne lu oer."

Blinking, Jake had to repeat the words in his brain before he finally understood. His ears went back in delight as he looked at her.

"I love you."

He repeated as he pulled her close to him once Tuk ran off to Lo'ak. Looking at her, he could only think about how her eyes mimicked the ocean. It held so much love and so much life, that he could feel was all for him.

#jake sully #jake sully fanfiction #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #toruk makto #jake sully x reader #jake sully imagine #neteyam #neteyam sully #lo'ak #lo'ak sully #jake sully x oc

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

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territorial woes | k. leona

✮ tags ; fem!reader (referred to as leonas woman very briefly) fluff, territorial / needy leona , he is sickly in love in this sorry they're so domestic, one singular sex joke, this is a college au so everyone is over 18 for sake of my sanity, sfw but this blog is 18+ so minors don't follow please and ty

✮ wc ; 2k (? ? ?)

✮ a /n ; im so embarassed that this is leaving my fingertips actually. i do have to clarify like... i dont rlly think leona gets jealous easily but he can be kind of childish bc he's spoiled if that makes sense lmao. i was so Plauged by this i couldnt sleep its like 4am. i took my melatonin at midnight im so sick. blame @/petrichorium i am not responsible.

✮ synopsis ; leona kingscholar is often annoyed, but not usually over something like this.

He shouldn't have come to class.

The clock on the wall is agitating. Tick, tick, tick. On repeat over and over, plainly the same and piercing. Leona is sensitive to his surroundings, and particularly to noise.

He hates loud noises and sharp cries and he hates the sound of the damn clock in Trein's classroom. He's never been a fan of the classroom setting, general lack of motivation aside. It goes against his very nature to listen to boring lectures and sit through assignments he's already done hundreds of times.

All of his education from being young royalty paid off but ultimately amounts to nothing, because if he wants to graduate he still has to do this all over again.

He's a hunter, so he's not opposed to sitting and lying in wait if there's a promise of reward at the end. If all this sitting around with a twitching ear and bored sigh would amount to anything he'd be a little less annoyed with attending.

And there was one, originally. A thing, that Leona had wanted (which he can only admit to himself begrudgingly) that was worth hauling his ass out of the peaceful botanical garden and into class today. That very thing which is currently giggling their heart out to one of those idiot freshman from the Heartslyabul dorm.

Tick, tick, tick. Leona snaps his jaw close and tears his eyes from the sight, nose scrunched in frustration with a knuckle pushed against his temple.

He wants to go back to his dorm. But he can't. He won't until he gets what he even came for.

The presence of another person alerts his senses, but he relaxes upon realizing it's Ruggie, sitting on the edge of his desk with that usual smug air about him. Leon passes him a glance but doesn't say a word.

"Somethin' troublin' you, my liege? Shyehehe."

Leona all but growls.

"Shut your trap or I'll hang you up by your tail."

"Ouch. That bothered by it, huh?"

"I'm not bothered by squat."

Ruggie laughs hard at that and Leona considers throwing him through a wall. Ruggie is also looking ahead where you at, staring a little more openly than Leona is. He whistles under his breath. He can't remember the names of the two brats, but they're always together. One of them with orange hair and the other with the short blue.

"They're pretty close with those two, yanno. Heard they were having sleep-overs and all durin' their first year.''

Leona narrows his eyes. The clock ticks on. Ruggie grins and Leona knows he should just up and leave. It's stupid to be hanging around here. It's lame that he's even looking. He should just go up there and—

"They're best friends, basically. Been like that since before you two had a thing going too. Way before that, I think."

Leona knows well enough what Ruggie is doing. What Hyena's are good at, goading his annoyance to push him to act. He's looking for a show, and Leona is nearly tempted to give him one. Nearly.

You're not the fierce type like the women back home. You probably wouldn't think twice about it, just bat your little lashes and wave your friends goodbye like the herbivore you are if he decided to drag you away. You'd pester him, follow him around while he acted moody and cold for a while before frowning.

You'd get mad at first, before huffing and saying sorry for something you didn't even do. Mumbling and poking around until Leona eventually drags you in his bed to nap instead of being outright about any of it. If his sister-in-law knew he was acting like such a kid to his woman, he'd never hear the end of it. It's that voice in his head that keeps him stuck in his chair, seething.

"Not like you to be so docile, King." Ruggie says. Leona shoots him a mean enough glare that he backs away in fear.

It's not like he's being docile. Not really. There's more to it than that.

Thing is, Leona is used to being chased. Regardless of his inferiority in birthright, he's still royalty. Royalty means plenty of people itching to get in his good graces to get a taste of the highlife. Leona is used to cheap tactics of seduction and luxury in order to earn his favor - he can smell it from away. He's always half expecting to uncover secret intentions.

It never happens. You are all by all measures, frustratingly sincere. Leona doesn't really know how to respond to it. You don't pay mind to his royalty or his ability aside from a normal amount of awe. You're an herbivore firstly, and a stranger to this world after that. Whatever traits in Leona you've latched onto, he can't wrap his head around nor does he understand.

It's the first time in his life that he's gotten into a romantic entanglement like this. Where everything is all lovey-dovey and things are so important. He's always been respectful to his women but he's never been seriously in love in his life. It's different from just being decent. He cares what you think to an extent that's unfamiliar. It's not like he'd ever fix his mouth to say all that, but it really matters that he does things the right way.

Leona doesn't usually act in self-interest, to begin with. Cocky as he may be - he's still king and kings act in the interest of his people. Regardless of what it looks like, you are part of his people. His pride, in more simple terms.

It's not being docile as much as it's an effort to show some respect for you.

Leona isn't usually jealous about petty, trivial shit. It doesn't matter to him what you do or who you do it with in your own time. He likes that you're independent, too.

He is however, a territorial apex predator and a prince. For better or for worse whenever he looks at you, all he can see is to prey animals encroaching on his territory.

That's the part of him that's raring to go. Teeth clenched and agitated, brows all drawn together in frustration. Leona wants to go back to his dorm, but he wont without what he came for. It's putting him in a bad mood.

But ultimately, he doesn't move from his spot. Ruggie leaves eventually when his mood has soured completely. His head is on the desk and he's got his eyes closed, but his ears twitched at the sound of your chair dragging on the floor.

"Can you guys walk Grimm back to the door? I'm gonna go with Leona. Thanks! See you later,"

And just like that, the classroom clears of the last nuisances occupying it. Leaving only you and Leona and that ticking clock together.

He hears you walk up to him before he sees it. Your voice is annoyingly pleasant to listen to.

"Leona? You sleeping already?"

He's starting to understand why his older brother folded at every single word that came out of his sister-in-laws mouth. He lifts his head just barely to look at you and you're looking at him all wide-eyed. He wants to tick you off a little, but can't conjure up any ideas.

"You done with those little yippin' herbivores you call friends? Can we leave now?"

You frown.

"You're in a bad mood. And don't be mean to them, they are actually my friends, you know?"

He scoffs and your frown deepens.

"Leonaaa," You drag out the syllables of his name as you stand beside him "What's wrong with you?"

He hears you pull a chair up. When he finally sits up, you're sitting directly in front of him on a chair turned backwards. There's hardly any room between you. Your face is twisted up with worry.

Leona reaches to pinch your nose. You pull away making his lips twitch upward.

"I shouldn't've came to class." He complains. You rub your nose but don't say anything back, considering him.

"I didn't think it was that bad today though. I guess it might always be for you though since you know like, everything, but I don't—"

Before you can keep going, he leans forward to press his lips to yours. It shuts you up effectively. Your lips are soft. They're sweet and a little sticky - mouth warm and welcoming.

When he pulls away, you blink at him.

"What were you sayin'." He asks.

You look a little taken aback.

"I don't know. Oh, uhm. I liked the lesson. It's fun to learn stuff about this world, I guess." You stumble over your words like you're shy. It's ironic to him, but charming all the same.

He grins.

"What? You nervous after a little kiss?" He teases.

You flush.

"You're not usually that forward, dummy. Which brings me to my question again, what's up? You're sulking."

"What the hell? I'm not sulkin'"

"Yes you are. Your doing the little nose scrunch thing too. Did something happen?"

He pushes the comment about his nose scrunch away entirely because he's sure thinking about too long is gonna get on his nerves. He glares at you for a while, debating on what he should say. Truth is, he is a little pissed. But he isn't going to tell you that your little chat with friends is making him territorial. That would be ridiculous.

There's a brief moment of silence before you pause. You tilt your head, eyes shining with curiosity.

"...Were you lonely?" You suggest.

His face drops.

"You're not the jealous type usually, but you're like a big overgrown kitty. So, you missed me right? That's why you're moping?"

The tone of your voice makes him want to pinch you again.

"Watch your mouth, herbivore." He grits, agitation rolling back into his tone like a wave. And you laugh, the nerve of you. Giggle a little as you lean in closer.

"You didn't say no."

"Shut up." He says, weakly.

"Leona," You say his name again, a little sweeter. Purposefully full of affection and he hates everything about how mushy it's making him feel. You reach your hand up to his head, petting behind his ears in the place you know he likes "I'm sorryyy,"

"Do you go 'nd tuck your tail between your legs like this for everyone? Where's your self-respect, huh?" He means to say with a lot more characteristic sarcasm.

But it all comes out gross and sweet sounding instead.

"Mm, no? It's just that my boyfriend is pretty shit at being honest about his feelings so if I don't dote on him he'll wither away like a houseplant and—"

He covers your mouth with his hand and glares at you, faux annoyed. And you're giggling against his palms, all bely laughs. It's all a little nauseating for him. He pulls away by cupping your jaw instead, squishing your face together.

"When'd you get so damn mouthy?" He grumbles.

"Since forever ago." You say through squished lips. He huffs, leaning forward to kiss you a second time. You're all soft everywhere. Squishy and mellow. Leona kisses you three times in the process, each one a little more impatient than the last before releasing you.

He doesn't let go, hand going to cup the back your neck instead. He cradles your head close, sighing against your mouth.

"Annoying," He says. You smile at him and he has to look away to deal with the intensity of it.

"You love me." You say with a smile. If only you knew the half of it.

He doesn't say that of course. Just scoffs as he stands to his feet, dragging you with him. He curls an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. The warmth of your body makes him purr.

"In your dreams. You owe me for cuttin' into my naptime."

"What can I do for you my liege?" You say sarcastically, grabbing his hand openly. He squeezes it "You wanna take a nap with me?"

"Can't promise I'll get you in my bed and not fuck you about it." He says with a lazy chuckle. You nudge his side.

"You're so crass."

"You love me," He mocks. You huff.

"Unfortunately, I do. Could use some rest though," You yawn, and blinking blearily "So nap time it is. 'kay?"

He kisses the side of your head.

"Sounds good t'me."

#leon x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #writing tag #if anyone says anything about me posting this ill explode myself in the michaelwave.... please do not #i was so haunted by this i just needed to get it out of me i am not even. look #i cant explain it like i started sweating

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odysirena · 1 year

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Atlantis (prologue)

series masterlist part 1

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

series summary: with the death of quaritch, the sullys return to the forest. not wanting to make your mate part with his family for your sake, you decide to come with them. how will the return of his responsibilities as the future olo’eyktan affect your relationship?

BEFORE READING: characters are aged up 2 years! no explicit content! this follows the movie EXCEPT: it takes quaritch 1 1/2 years to find him and he dies in the final battle! that’s it!!! hope we all have fun (2.3k)

Coming to live with the Sullys in the forest was an easy decision to make.

In the 2 years that the family lived with your clan, you found yourself sharing lives with their eldest son. Giving him pieces of yourself and receiving bits of him back.

It started with tales from Ao’nung and Tsireya.

Words of admiration slipping Ao’nung’s lips in passing, Tsireya commending his ability to keep his siblings in check, and your mother’s warnings to stay away from the newcomers just in case they end up turning their backs on the clan.

You never really found the family all that interesting, always preferring to keep to familiar faces. Even when the children you look after talked in hushed voices, telling stories of the great Toruk Makto, or when your own best friend gushes about the family’s youngest son, or when you’re tending to your friend’s face after a fight with said family.

The only time a member of their family ever held your interest was when you caught the eldest son with his ikran.

And as if to make up for the lack of interest you’ve had with the family so far, you find yourself gaping in amazement at the sight of the majestic beast.

The things that change the world, according to Chaos theory, are the tiny things. A butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe.

Yoki–the name of his ikran–flaps her wings and a part of you blames it on her.

You stood in his vicinity a moment too long. He glances your way and a part of you finds it comically hilarious everytime you remember the moment. Was staying still really all it took for this much to change?

Did it really only take the briefest of moments for you to get involved with a family you were previously so uninterested in?

It was almost like a switch was flipped after that. Encounters with the family becoming a regular occurrence, how did it come to this? You always ask yourself. Was it your subconscious? Were you gravitating towards them? Did another butterfly flap its wings?

Later, when you’ve gotten significantly closer, he tells you that he isn’t that unlucky, that his nets didn’t break by chance, that his belongings didn’t just go missing, that his siblings didn’t just happen to be around your area looking for their brother.

“It’s not the universe’s doing, my love. I saw you, got captivated and was filled with the overwhelming need to always be near you,”

Many nights have been spent like this, you sharing your fascination with fate and him telling you he would have found another way to talk to you even if you walked away at that moment.

—

Falling in love with him means learning to love his family as he does.

It’s holding Tuk’s hands when the storm gets too bad, even when all you want to do is curl into a ball and gently rock yourself to sleep.

It’s awkwardly patting his younger brother’s back when he and Tsireya have a fight, comforting him, making sure he feels okay before you talk some sense into him.

It’s walking in the greener parts of Awa’atlu with Kiri, listening to her rambles as you walk to take her mind off her failed attempt at weaving again.

It’s his persistence when it comes to visiting your family. A kind smile on his face despite your mother’s hostility in the earlier days.

It’s taking care of the village’s children in your place when you’re feeling sick. Or guiding Tsireya and Ao’nung the other way when he knows you’re feeling overwhelmed and in need of space.

Life with him consists of nights telling stories of the lives the two of you followed before your souls decided they wanted to be one.

You decide you want to actively love him the night he talks about the weight of a title promised to him and his struggle with coming to terms with that promise being broken for his family’s safety.

Not sparing another moment, you tell him just that.

"Oel ngati kameie”

I see you.

You look into his eyes as he bares his soul to show you all that he is. The mighty warrior. The golden son. The boy that had to bear the weight of being the heir for seventeen years just for the promised title to leave him, whispering this is for your own good as it closes the door. The boy that wishes he could be more. The boy that aches for his father’s love.

He lets you take in all he is and basks in the love you shower him with.

“Nga yawne lu oer,” He says softly.

I love you.

It brings you so much joy when you realise that every fibre of your being believies him. It wasn’t like when your dad said it, obligation seeping into every vowel. Or when acquaintances say it after a favour granted.

It’s quite simple. You instantly believe him because it’s all you’ve known.

He says I love you and he doesn’t mean it as a thank you for loving me. He says I love you and means it as a promise.

It’s almost as if your soul was made aware of the love he has for you long before the words even left his lips, perhaps his was aware before he even had the thought.

It’s known for longer than the two of you have because your love bleeds into your subconscious and seeps into your actions.

It’s why your mother grew so fond of him. Why his siblings grew so attached to you so quickly.

Because two people can’t build lives together and expect people to not take notice.

—

You’re about to turn 19 when he tells you that his family is leaving.

First, you ask him if he’s going. The question leaves your lips and it feels like betrayal when he tells you, No, you are my mate. I will stay where you are near.

It feels like you’re betraying the boy that loves his family more than himself. You voice out your thoughts and all he can do is smile at you before he presses you to his chest, forcing you to listen to the beating of his heart. Do you hear that? It beats for you now. I love my family but they understand that you are who I value the most now.

It’s his way of telling you that he loves you enough to stay.

You ask Tsireya to accompany you to the cove of the ancestors that night. She doesn’t ask you questions, but she lets you cry on her shoulders, soft hands caressing your back in an attempt to soothe your sobs.

When you reach the shore, she holds you back and pulls you into a hug before you go to join Neteyam. I will miss you, sister. She whispers, wiping the stray tear quickly and flashing you a smile, removing all traces of her downcast expression.

You give her hand a squeeze before you part ways, your mind stuck on the tear that fell from her eye and the others that were threatening to fall before she wiped them clear.

You allow yourself to reminisce on simpler days. When you were younger and were yet to be tasked with the job of making choices and carrying the weight of them. Knocking over Ronal’s herbs and her children–you didn’t know it yet, but they would soon become your best friends–taking the blame for you (They don’t know this, but you told Ronal it was you that knocked them over the moment they turned their back).

Making the bond with your spirit sister.

Oh. You chide yourself. How could you forget about Sutì?

The tulkun was beyond ecstatic for you when you mentioned the boy, she didn’t say anything then but you’re so sure she could feel the love from your body language, she could always sense things like that. You know your sister would be happy for you, still, you make a mental note to ask Lo’ak if payakan could send a message from you.

When you finally reach where Neteyam is waiting for you, your thoughts are clouded. He takes notice of the expression you have on and kisses your temple. The simple act clears your thought, even for just a moment, it’s as if he were the god of the skies himself, swatting the dark clouds away.

Neteyam doesn’t catch your exchange with Tsireya so he doesn’t actually know what’s bothering you. But he’s loved you long enough to know that something is wrong. A part of him knows you’re considering it–going with his family– a part of him wishes for you to offer. He would never force you to leave your home, he knows how it feels to leave behind all you’ve known and he doesn’t want you to suffer the way he suffered.

So he calls himself selfish, you’re so selfish. He says it multiple times, holding your hands as he does, in hopes that the feeling goes away because never in a thousand lifetimes would he wish for you to hurt.

But when he goes to sleep that night, his heart curled up in front of him, a part of him still wishes.

—

When you tell him that you wish to come along, he argues against you.

A part of him cheers. He tries his best to shut it down.

He calmly recalls his struggles with adapting and explains how he doesn’t want to put you through that.

He wants you to argue back.

Neteyam shuts his eyes, overcome with guilt for simply wanting and the overwhelming desire to keep you happy.

You smile up at him, as if you were holding that part of him between your hands, the words that leave your lips immediately calms him down, “We both want this.”

He searches your eyes, looking for a hint of hesitance. When he spots it, he opens his mouth to speak but you interrupt him yet again.

“I am scared,” he cradles your face as you speak, “but I trust that you will make me happy wherever we are.”

Yes and I could make you happy here, you could make me happy here, he thinks.

But you don’t stop talking, “We could also be happy here, yes. But I do not have siblings like you do.”

He asks one more time with his eyes, you smile.

“Besides, mother and father already approved of my departure.”

Your statement completely breaks his resolve, tears falling from his eyes before you could reach out to wipe them.

“I love you,” he holds you in his arms, “I promise I’ll make you happy.”

You smile, content in his arms, “I know you will.”

—

“This isn’t a goodbye, I will see you again,” The words leave your mouth but even you aren’t sure how much you believe it.

You talked to Jake, Toruk Makto. Asking him questions that were answered with honesty. He says he isn’t sure. Because even with his nemesis dead, the sky people were still in Pandora.

“Your family isn’t safe here,” you remember saying, observing his face as you spoke, “yet you gave your son the option to stay,” he stopped sharpening his spear, “why is that?”

Jake paused before he continued sharpening the spear, as if to collect his thoughts.

“He begged me,” Jake took in the shocked expression you have on and simply smiled, “I am a father, but I also know what it is like to love another,” he stood to put the spear away, “I don’t want my son to suffer like that.”

You’re shaken out of the memory by your best friend cutting off your circulation, “Ao’nung! Skxawng you’re going to kill me.”

You take in his tear stained face and let out an exaggerated gasp in an attempt to lighten the mood. You know it works when the corners of his lips lift and he shoves you playfully.

When his sister approaches to hug you, his face gets serious yet again. “If you’re ever unhappy there, you’ll always have a home here, never forget that.”

His serious demeanour has you and Tsireya laughing, “How are they supposed to do that skxawng? The ocean would eat them alive before they make it home.”

At Tsireya’s comment, he takes up an exaggerated thinking stance, going on for a moment before he nods to yourself, “Don’t be unhappy.”

You laugh at his resolve but he hushes you, “You can be unhappy once you get an ikran,” your eyes soften at his surprising thoughtfulness, “just so you can go home.”

Your trio disperses when a horn is sounded, signalling your departure. Tsireya and Ao’nung share a look before they tackle you, giving you one last squeeze before you move towards the centre of the crowd where the Sullys stand.

Neteyam reaches over and you join him, waving goodbye to everyone you recognise in the crowd.

Tuk rushes over to you and you lift her up, “I can’t wait to show you the forest!” She grins and you find yourself mirroring her expression.

Neteyam takes Tuk from your arms, allowing you a few more seconds of goodbye.

You catch Ronal and Tonowari’s gaze and smile at their gesture.

Oel ngati kameie. You gesture back.

Once you’ve hopped on the ikran, you catch their gaze again. This time, you catch yourself signing, thank you.

For protecting my home.

For giving me Tsireya and Ao’nung.

Ronal tears up at the gesture and you find yourself mirroring her.

Once you’re in the air, Neteyam lets his ikran fall back a bit. He holds you and you finally allow the tears to fall.

(A/N: and!! that’s it for the prologue!! had this idea 2 hours ago and knew i immediately had to start the intro because!!! i cannot wait to write the drama bit lmfao. as always!! reblogs and replies are appreciated! i hope you enjoy the series because i certainly had fun writing)

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yanderecandystore · 8 months

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I always wonder about the bully, what would happen if s/o just moved from the school, like they can't take the bullies anymore. And when they finally find them they see s/o kissing their lover and holding hands. Bonus point if the lover said "don't worry, no one will bully you anymore i'm here" just fluff pls no bad end for the lover but i want to see the bully get pissed hahahaahha

What time is it? It's "Eat the hearts of my ocs" o'clock! But we're WEEKS late!

(I'm so sorry for the wait ;-; I have no idea when it comes to passage of time)

I want to change the request just a little bit because it's been a while but I've been referring to my bully ocs as college age/older- I know it's just fluff but I want to just add a little sprinkle of pain✨

[🚚🧳🌉] This post has something similar to that-

TW/Tags: They/Them being used in the beginning as a neutral singular pronoun, just in case anyone gets confused, you can say it was either one of the twins// they went loco while you were gone // delusional, slight victim blaming mentality, bullying, stalking, slight mentions of pain/harm, mentions of insomnia // nothing happens in this one to be honest.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Breaking apart [Yandere!Bully!OCs x Gender Neutral!Reader - Headcanons]:

🎇 Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇

It was just so sudden that they couldn't avoid it sooner- Perhaps you managed to keep your mouth shut for long enough so that they wouldn't hear the rumors of it, or since you didn't have close friends (thanks to them) no one was able to snitch on you.

Maybe you didn't even give them any hints around your social media, nothing seemed out of ordinary in your posts-

Not even the teachers seemed to know of your plans, or if they did, they made sure to keep it a well hidden secret.

The only change to your usual routine was that small yet noticeable hopeful glint in your eyes, as if something was keeping you in a good mood even while having to deal with your bully each day.

Ah, for a few days they thought that it was because of them, going as far as thinking that now was that time- Finally, finally you would have come to terms with your own feelings towards them and finally confess it for all to hear! It would be a pitiful display but they were sure it would be all worth it in the end.

You never did that, however. The day after you changed schools, so quickly that they couldn't make any plans to stop you.

Their younger self felt more insulted than anything, you dare to run away from them your entire life than to deal with your responsibilities?… It was pathetic and cowardly, from their point of view.

Then again, in their point of view you were also responsible for the way they would treat you, for the countless nights left without sleep, and for the constant paranoia that plagues them.

It was so obvious (to them) that you just didn't want to deal with the shame of liking your bully, and although changing schools was an ""exaggeration"" on your part, they thought they could deal with your lack of presence just fine.

They didn't. It only made it so much worse.

But it wasn't until later on, after years of being away from you that they would be able to understand why you left school…

Finding you by chance after so long was a miracle, to be honest! It was impressive how you managed to hide yourself online so well and ever better yet in public.

You wouldn't be able to understand the joy, the rush that runs through their veins as they see you after such a long time of no signs of your presence or of your existence! Ah, but then again it made sense, right? They were awful to you, weren't they? They didn't show you how much they actually admired you.

But they're older now! They matured! They would never act the same childish way that pushed you away in the first place!-

That's what they thought as they kept pushing people out of their way so they could follow your silhouette, desperately wanting to call for you but not having the strength to fully scream it out- Ah, wasn't this like old days? Wasn't this just like the time they would chase you? Although, you haven't noticed them yet due to the busy crowd…

It was when you finally stopped walking, your back turned to them that they finally were able to see you properly, you changed yet not enough to be fully unrecognizable- You grew yet in their eyes everything seemed to be just like in highschool all over again, but this time they promised that they would make things right!... Until they saw you hugging a stranger.

They didn't know who it was, and for all they cared it could be a friend, a family member, it didn't matter at all, all that it mattered was that they could see you again-

Yet before they could make any advance towards you, to finally speak their mind, they see you and the stranger hold hands and kiss. An innocent and very short action that to your bully feels like an eternity in Hell.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

→ Adrien Coldwell:

It's been such a long, long time since Adrien last saw you, last heard of you- In general he might as well have thought you were dead! And for the longest time, he really thought that!

So tell me, how do you think he felt seeing you in the arms of some nobody?

It's a joke, right? An unfunny prank you want to put him through, surely this isn't actually happening in front of his sleepy, barely holding each other up eyes.

Oh… Wait. You were never one for jokes, especially not with him, of course…

"... [Y/n]? [L/n] [Y/n]? It's you, isn't it? It really is you, isn't it?" Adrien's voice is lazy, tired, devoid of all that smugness and confidence he used to treat you with. He just needs to confirm that you really are here.

Ah… but when you turn around, your happy face goes back to one he recognized oh so well, of horror.

"It's you.. It is you, I shouldn't have doubted it- You've changed..! I'm… it's been so long, hasn't it..?" His sorrowful words hit you as if he was talking to a longtime friend, which you're not.

Ah, his state however… It's deteriorating. You knew who he was by his voice alone, it would be impossible to forget it after having it drilled into your brain with all that resentment and fear you harbored. But to see him in this depressed, messy state almost makes you feel pity towards him… What happened while you were gone?

That didn't matter now, however, you couldn't simply turn a blind eye to all of what he did, and all that healing you've done shouldn't be so easily broken just because he recognized you in public.

You considered your options, you could curse him off, talk to him indifferently and politely… Or simply walk away.

You didn't owe him anything, talking to him would only make you more uncomfortable than you already are- Who would blame you for not wanting to talk with your past tormentor?? You took your partner's hand and urged him to leave with you.

"Are you going already?.. I… I need to talk with you, maybe another time if you're busy.." He almost sounded considerate and respectful of your boundaries if it wasn't for his hand holding your arm and stopping you from getting away. Possessively clingy onto you almost in a threatening way.

You felt this sensation before, yet you wish you didn't. You wish you weren't as terrified as you were but as long as the situation keeps on escalating you can't help but feel more and more like you were still in highschool being helpless and scared of turning your head to face him. Like a cursed time machine, you're brought back to feeling worried of what will happen if you tell him to stop, to leave you alone! You remember how no one used to believe you when you mentioned being bullied, how no one dared to say anything because "oh well, is just the Coldwell!" As if that alone gave him rights to treat you the way he did-

But this time you weren't completely alone, your partner took his hand away from your arm- A stern look in his eyes as he lightly pushed Adrien away.

"I don't know what you want but I'm pretty sure I know who you are, and they don't want to talk with you. Leave us alone." It wasn't a threat, it wasn't insulting nor intimidating and yet it set the message very clearly: He wasn't letting Adrien enter back into your life if you didn't want to.

"Who even is this, huh, [Y/n]?" Adrien gave your partner a little slap on his hand, it wasn't clear if he felt insulted by his presence in general or by him touching Adrien without permission.

"[Y/n], this isn't funny anymore, stop ignoring me, please-" A request that would go to deaf ears, as you continued to distance yourself from him while your partner stood in between you two.

"They don't want to. I'm warning you, go away." During high school every student feared the power and status that the Coldwell family held on their grasp, everyone envied and admired their wealth, but they all knew that if you crossed their family- No one in the world would ever be able to help you stand up against them.

But today was different from those dark days where you couldn't rely on anyone, it was comforting even if a bit reckless to see Sean protect you the way he did.

Younger Adrien would have made your new boyfriend's life a living hell, he would've made sure he knew his place in the school's hierarchy… But that doesn't work anymore. He could say he would tell his mom to use her money against this guy… But that doesn't work anymore.

He watched as you held hands with the man that had stolen you away from him, unable to stop him.

Adrien watched as your partner promised no one would bully you anymore and that you were safe with him…

"... Bastard… I could have said the same thing if you would've let me finish.." Adrien stood there, mumbling nonsense that you wouldn't be able to hear anyway, saying things he knows are not true.

For now, you were happy walking away with someone who actually showed how much he cared from start to finish.

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

It's been such a long, long time since Alexandra last saw you, last heard of you- In general she might as well have thought you were dead! And for the longest time, she really thought that!

So tell me, how do you think she felt seeing you in the arms of some nobody?

Oh, this is a dream, right? She is hallucinating again, silly her, her sleep schedule has been completely changed since the day you left- Now her eyes are wide open to everything and everyone all the time! She always swears she can see you in the corner of her vision. Always there to make fun of her….

Oh wait! You're real! Right?? This is real, right? She has woken up a few hours ago, she is sure of that-

"[Y/n]??- I-it's been a long time- H-How are you?" Alex falters as she makes her way closer to you, trying to stay focused on the more urgent matter that is talking with you for once.

Ah… but when you turn around, your happy face goes back to one she recognized oh so well, of horror.

"So it IS you!! You are you! Of course you are! H-How have you been?!" The excitement in her voice is palpable, even in her current state, she still strikes you as an extrovert with a very talkative personality.

Ah… Her state, however… It's deteriorating. You knew who she was by her voice alone, it would be impossible to forget it after having it drilled into your brain with all that resentment and fear you harbored. But to see her in this nervous, trembling state is making you feel concerned for her… What happened while you were gone?

That didn't matter now, however, you couldn't simply turn a blind eye to all of what she did, and all that healing you've done shouldn't be so easy to break just because she recognized you in public.

You considered your options, you could curse her off, talk to her indifferently and politely… Or simply walk away.

You weren't actually obligated to talk to her at all… so… why not just run away? You took your partner's hand and pretended as if Alexandra mixed you up with someone else.

"Hm..??! Wait- Where are you going?! I-I really need to talk with you!" She begged you to hear her, her meek voice contradicting the desperate hand in your arm. Her nails are still sharp as ever clawing at your skin, even if not intentionally this time.

You felt this sensation before, yet you wish you didn't. You wish you weren't as terrified as you were but as long as the situation keeps on escalating you can't help but feel more and more like you were still in highschool being helpless and scared of turning your head to face her. Like a cursed time machine, you're brought back to feeling worried of what will happen if you tell her to stop, to leave you alone! You remember how no one used to believe you when you mentioned being bullied, how no one dared to say anything because "oh well, is just the Coldwell!" As if that alone gave her rights to treat you the way she did-

But this time you weren't completely alone, your partner took her hand away from your arm- A stern look in his eyes as he lightly pushed Alexandra away.

"I don't know what you want but I'm pretty sure I know who you are, and they don't want to talk with you. Leave us alone." It wasn't a threat, it wasn't insulting nor intimidating and yet it set the message very clearly: He wasn't letting Alex enter back into your life if you didn't want to.

"[Y/n]... Who is this?? Who is this- Person?! Unhand me!" Alex pushed your partner away, it wasn't clear if she was mad about his presence in general or because he was holding her wrist.

"[Y/n], please! It feels like a nightmare whenever you ignore me!-" She was beginning to cry as she whined your name, your partner standing in-between her and you didn't stop her from trying to reach you.

But today was different from those dark days where you couldn't rely on anyone, it was comforting even if a bit reckless to see Sean protect you the way he did.

Younger Alexandra would have made your new boyfriend's life a living hell, she would've made sure he knew his place in the school's hierarchy… But that doesn't work anymore. She could say she would tell her dad to use his money against this guy… But that doesn't work anymore.

She watched as you held hands with the man that had stolen you away from her, unable to stop him.

Alexandra watched as your partner promised no one would bully you anymore and that you were safe with him…

" I… I wanted to say that.. I-I would've said that ages ago if you had stayed just a little longer…" Alex stood there, mumbling nonsense that you wouldn't be able to hear anyway, saying things she knows are not true.

For now, you were happy walking away with someone who actually showed how much he cared from start to finish.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #choco stuff #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere bully #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request #yandere bully x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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