#in my head I see him as attempting to be her shield…and when I think of this I immediately think of his hair as one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ozzgin · 2 months

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okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere nerd #yandere loser #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenarios #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #tw yandere #female reader #obsessive love

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funnyexel · 3 months

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Pervy husband staring at his wife's big chest and her actually noticing his expression~

She got flustered and immediately covered her chest with her arms

a thrill ride of obsession

you felt it. the weird looks. the lingering glances. but you passed them off as prolonged glares. looks of disgust and of realization that he's going to be marrying you in a few short days.

but you read it wrong. so unbelievably wrong.

Secondborn!husband who's becoming sloppy, lazy in his sneaky ways of going through your drawers to steal your intimate clothing. Secondborn!husband that notices how lazy you are getting with covering up your chest, noticing the way you walk around the room with less and less fabric covering your body as time counts down to your wedding.

Secondborn!husband that openly stares at you when he purposely accidentally enters the fitting room, where you were trying on your wedding night attire. Secondborn!husband who is shoved out the female dominated room and mentally stunned by the outfit he got a glimpse of.

Pervert!husband that can’t ignore the way all his blood rushed from his head down to his dick. All his rational thinking getting lost on the journey to his bed chambers. Pervert!husband who whimpers and pleads for you when he rips off his pants and strokes himself to his vision of you. His vision of your curvy body and big tits squished into the bra of the tightly woven bralette.

Pervert!husband who’s knees buckle under him when the image of your faintly flushed cheeks cloud his mind, causing him to slide down the wall of his room, all the while not letting his cock breath from the tight fisting he’s doing. Pervert!husband who wants to cum at the thought of you squeezing your breasts closer together in your sorry attempt to shield yourself from him, your own husband.

Pervert!husband who could care less if someone could hear him on the other side of this door. Pervert!husband who’s mind just goes blank when he fantasizes about you on your knees in front of him, bouncing up and down on your heels as you push your tits against his straining cock. Strangling the muscle in his perverted version of quality time. Feeling the warmth of your tits around him and feeling the kitten licks you would leave on his tip. He can see it all unfold in his mind, the way you would breath so heavily from embarrassment and the excessive movement.

Secondborn!husband who acts like he didn’t have a manic episode of being so horny that he basically couldn’t breath or even think about anything but those gorgeous tits.

a/n: I didn't expect for this to take such a gross turn but hey, hope you like it. p.s. its black history month and time to spam my page as much as I possibly can.

more writing

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mydearesthrry · 9 months

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love in secret - h.s.

a/n: ohhhh my loves this one is a mess. please bear with me!!! it gets better. i promise. i love this one so so dearly and its very special to me so please be kind :’( i love you i love you i love you, thank you for choosing to read my work. enjoy <3

🎀 warnings/cw: a really weird creepy uncle (weird comments/advances on yn), a weird creepy guy at a bar, a weird girl at a birthday party, angst, harry yells lol, FLUFF CANT EMPHASIZE THIS ENOUGHHHH, PROTECTIVERRY nothing too out of the ordinary for me

🐇 pairing: best friend!reader x harry styles to lovers

💐 wc: 5.9k (not edited, completely unproofread)

summary: 5 times when Y/N and harry communicated with just a look to each other, or, 5 times where they just understood.

— 1

The lights in the restaurant were bright. Blinding, really. YN had a hard time even keeping a conversation with someone due to the lights being so bright and her needing to shut her eyes tightly every couple of seconds. It was unfortunate enough that she showed up to the dinner with a headache beginning to brew at the nape of her neck, and she cursed herself in her head at the fact that she let herself just ignore it. The room was filled with loud chatter and laughter, the other patrons enjoying themselves and letting loose with the alcohol provided to them. Her head was hung, hair falling around the sides of her face, allowing for a nice shield to dim the lights a little bit, providing her eyes a little bit of solace from the intrusive brightness.

“Alright y’guys, I’m really tired and I think ‘M gonna head out now.” She could hear Harry announce to the table, pushing his chair back with his legs as he tapped on YN’s thigh with his right hand. Pushing himself up with his legs, he leaned down to whisper a quick ‘get your stuff’ to YN. She agreed without another word, and stood to grab her purse from where it was hung on the chair, pulling it up onto her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling chilly out of nowhere. Harry noticed this– of course he did– and draped the jacket he had resting on his forearm over her shoulders. YN and Harry both said their goodbyes, no one questioning YN packing up her things. Everyone knew that wherever she went he would follow, and wherever he went she would follow.

Slinging his arm over her shoulder, Harry gave one last goodbye from the both of them, before leading her to the back entrance to avoid paparazzi, knowing how much that would hurt her head. He could sense that she was feeling weird from the second she grabbed a seat next to him, but didn’t question her about it. As the night went on, he noticed how she kept blinking harshly, kept rubbing her temples with her fingertips, or rested her forehead on his shoulder for comfort. Suddenly, when she let her head fall, he realized exactly what was happening– she was having a migraine.

Little to no words were shared between them during dinner in an attempt to catch up with their friends who they’d hadn’t seen in a long time, but they were still reminded of each others presence. Harry's been placing soft kisses onto her hair when he felt the weight of her head drop onto his shoulder while also keeping conversation to whoever he was talking to. YN linked their pinky fingers at the beginning of dinner, letting it hang between the two of them for the rest of the night until she had to rub her temples to try and ease the pain. While they didn’t really speak, they had conversations with their eyes that only they could understand.

Harry initially checked on her when she lifted her head from his shoulder the third time, turning his head to look at her only to see that she was already waiting for him. He gave her a look that asked if she was okay, and she answered silently with a small head nod. Even though he didn’t buy it, he left it alone since he knew that they’d be leaving soon anyway.

When she finally got to the sweet solace of Harry’s car, a sigh of relief left her at the darkness inside. The interior of his car was all black with tinted windows, so the dim of the streetlights couldn’t bother her as much either.

“Lovie, y’should’ve told me y’had a migraine, would’ve gotten y’home instantly.” Harry scolds in a low, quiet voice, a frown on his lips when he saw the way she slumped down into the passenger seat, head falling back onto the headrest.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just looked like you were having fun.” She whispered, knowing her voice at full volume would hurt her head.

“Y’are way more important to me than a dinner with our friends. We can see our friends whenever, and it would be much more convenient for the both of us if y’were healthy while doing so.” He grumbled, grabbing the steering wheel with his left hand and reaching over to rest his right hand on her thigh.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear I’m such a burden,” She spat, voice still low. She opened her eyes when she heard nothing but silence to see Harry giving her a look to which she sighed at, grabbing his hand to twist the rings around on his fingers. “I know what you mean. Jus’ being stubborn right now.”

He snorts, “Trust me, I know. ‘S like it’s y’middle name.” He squeezes her hand at the soft laugh she gives, his heart pumping the slightest bit faster.

“Back to mine?” He whispers.

“Obviously.”

— 2

YN rested her back along the arm of the couch, knees pulled up so that she only took up one cushion. Even if the rest of the couch was completely unoccupied beside her, she wanted to be as respectful as possible. The room was almost full by the way producers, writers, and managers scattered around, but she was only there for one of them; the boy in the booth. Harry’s been recording for about 2 hours now and she knew that he was overdue for a break, however, she also knew that he wouldn’t step foot outside of the booth until what he recorded was 100% to his liking, and they both knew that his perfectionist tendencies was his vice.

She sat around for a bit longer, silently playing games on her phone mindlessly while periodically checking the time, until she heard a muffled shout come from the booth– the booth that she knew only had Harry in it. Looking up, she saw Harry with the studio headphones pulled down to hang around his neck, stepping to the side so he wouldn’t be shouting into the microphone. She rolled her eyes and stared at him in annoyance, waiting until he would eventually catch her gaze. Right when he did, he could already see the look in her eyes which made him look down ashamedly, taking the headphones from his neck to put on the mic stand, coming out of the booth like a puppy with its tail between its legs. He already knew he was about to get chewed out by the way she looked at him, almost disappointed by the way he seemed to lack self care when he was working.

“Can we break for a minute, everyone? 30 minutes, tops.” She said loudly enough so everyone could hear her. Everyone immediately agreed and began to shuffle out of the room, leaving only YN and Harry in the space. Once the final person left and they heard the door click shut, she turned her head back to him with a distinct glimmer in her eyes.

“Really, H?” She sighed, gesturing to him to join her on the couch. She slid her legs down and opened them a little, already knowing that he was going to fall and put his entire weight onto her. And she was right. The second she opened her arms, he slumped down into a sitting position at first, before laying down with his head resting just below her chin, head turned toward the soundboard with a pout on his raspberry lips.

“I know, ‘M sorry,” He sighed, arms coming round to rest underneath her back in a loose hold, trying to get as much comfort as possible. “Jus’ hate when it doesn’t come out exactly how I envisioned it.”

“I know, but overworking yourself and your precious voice doesn’t equate to anything and it especially won’t equate to perfection if you’re tired. Looking at it all, especially from my perspective, it jus’ looks like you’re being mean. Like, lashing out on all of those people… they’re tired too, bub. They don’t deserve this kind of treatment from you, especially not when you can help it. Are you seeing what I mean?” She tried to lay it out in the most delicate way possible while also knocking some sense into him, and it all started to make sense to him after all.

“You do know you need to apologize to them, right?” She mutters into his hair, pressing the tiniest of kisses to his hair.

“I know. You’re right. I mean, you’re always right, but you’re especially right, right now. I dunno how y’always know me, or how you always know how t’make it better.” Harry grumbled. He hated this part. He hated when what he was envisioning didn’t come to full fruition right away.

“It’s because I’m your best friend,” She could feel the way they both collectively tensed at her words, “It’s just what I do. I know you better than anyone else in this world and I have since we were toddlers. There’s no way you can be surprised now, ‘M basically your only friend.”

He laughed along with her, trying his best to mask the rejection he felt when he heard her say that she was his best friend. “Y’are, lovie. The only one who knows me like this.”

She hummed. “The only one who ever will,” She said in full conviction. He lifted his head to meet her eyes, their faces close to each other. He could feel her breath on his face, and when he went to lift himself up a little to be able to meet her lips, she cleared her throat and nudged up a bit, creating distance between them.

Tangling her fingers back into his hair, she awkwardly whispered, “Now, rest for a little bit, bub. I’ll wake you up when they’re ready to go.”

— 3

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for YN and Harry to have dinner with each other’s families, but there was something about tonight that made the both of them have a weird twinge in their stomachs that tonight would be different. It started off normal, really. They showed up to YN’s parents house, one of her hands pushed into the crook of his arm. YN had a bottle of wine in her other hand while Harry had his shoved into his pocket. Ringing the doorbell, there was something about the lack of commotion coming from inside that made them share a weird glance, before they shrugged their shoulders in unison and put it to the side when they heard the lock click.

YN’s mom opened the door with a sheepish grin on her face, and YN already knew she was going to spew out an apology for something.

“Hi, my loves, missed you. But, before you both come in,” Her mom wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist, “Uncle Rick is here.”

YN and Harry both groaned, already dreading the dinner that hadn’t even started. They knew something was up when they didn’t hear the shouts of little kids wrestling each other to get to the door, and now it was completely explained why.

Uncle Rick was her dad’s estranged brother who had only started coming around 5 or 6 Christmases ago, and the entire family has had a weird dislike for him since the beginning. He was creepy! As simple as that. He used to make weird comments on her and her sisters bodies, and he liked to talk to Harry about how much money Harry had, while also trying to push out a sob story so Harry would flit him some cash. It never worked, by the way.

“That explains why the rascals weren’t here t’open the door,” Harry muttered, an annoyed and pouty look already on his face. He was excited to see the little ones, and they weren’t even here!

“Harry, stop with the look, don’t be a brat. Both of you, lighten up! I dislike him as much as you do but you two are the only ones who showed up for dinner. Your sisters bailed the second I mentioned him, so please just try to be nice?” YN’s mom scolded Harry. Since they’ve known each other since they were practically still in diapers, she treated him like her own and Anne did the same for YN.

“I’ll try,” Harry grumbled, patting YN’s bum when her mom stepped out of the way to let them in. Unhooking their arms from each other, they pushed their coats off and hung them up. Turning to each other, they shared a look before inhaling deeply at the same time, entwining fingers. “We got this, lovie. I believe in us.”

YN only nodded, trudging forward with him trailing behind her, his arm lifting a bit from the small pull where their hands were conjoined. Walking into the kitchen, she greeted her dad with a side hug in an attempt to not let go of Harry, before pulling back to let Harry greet him as well. They stepped back and looked at her dad expectantly, a sigh emitting when he saw their faces. “Sorry, kiddos. Would’ve told you, but mom wanted you guys to be here to keep us sane.”

“It’s okay, dad, but you have to shut him down if he says something about me. You promised last time.” She sighed, leaning into Harry the slightest bit for no reason other than familiarity and comfort.

“I will, Princess. I promise.” He shook his head fast, immediately abiding to the promise he made a couple of months ago.

“Alright, bub, let’s go say hi,” YN mentally prepared herself as they walked over to the living room, humming when her mom told her to get him for dinner. YN subconsciously tightened her grip on Harry’s hand, him doing the same. “Hi Uncle Rick, you remember Harry, right?”

“How couldn’t I remember? Y’bring that bugger around more than anyone else, I woulda thought he got you locked down. Quite annoying, that one is.” Uncle Rick’s feet were propped up onto the coffee table, a feeling of disgust already swirling in both of their chest when they could smell the mix of beer and smoke oozing from his pores.

“Um– He’s literally right here, and you just called him annoying?” She said quite exasperatedly, a muffled groan leaving her lips. “Whatever, it’s fine. Mom wanted us to tell you that dinner’s ready.”

“God, finally! Your moms been taking forever, annoying how long she takes to get everything ready. I mean, isn’t that her job? To cook and clean? She does a pretty shit job at it if I’m honest.” The man groaned, struggling to even get off the couch. He walked past them and placed a hand on YN’s waist when he passed by, making her jump and twist into the front of Harry’s body. He caught her with ease, letting go of her hand to wrap his arms around her body. He could feel how tense she was, her unease and anger radiating off of her in waves.

“Fuck. My. Life.” She muttered, leaning her face fully into his chest, banging her forehead against it with each word. Harry hummed, placing a few kisses onto her head to conceal the fact that he too, was bubbling with anger.

“Gonna kill him, lovie. The fuck was that, anyway? Calling me annoying when I’m right here? 5 feet away from him? Not a lot of cogs turning in tha’ one’s head, I’ll tell ya,” Harry snorted, trying to relax his best friend a little bit. “Calm down, babe, practically shakin’ in m’arms.”

She sighed, nodding into him. Comfort slowly seeped into her when she felt the gradual pressure of his arms behind her back. “I know, I’m sorry. Thank you for being here, though, you’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”

Harry isn’t afraid to admit his heart shatters the tiniest bit at this. He even goes far to unwrap his arms from her frame prematurely, plastering on a fake smile before she can see the frown he had on. “‘S what I’m here for.”

A confused look made its way onto YN’s face, wondering what she said wrong to make him let her go. Opening her mouth to ask, she shut it right after she heard her mom call to them.

“Kids, come eat now!” She shouted.

“Coming!” YN called back, giving Harry one last look, a small look of hurt in her eyes, before pivoting on her heel to walk to the dining room.

They sat down, Uncle Rick at the head of the table with YN and Harry on one side, and her parents on the other. Harry frowned when she didn’t scooch her chair over a bit to be closer to him, and he looked at the amount of space that was between them. Taking initiative, he moved his chair over and rested his hand on her thigh, YN grumbling under her breath but grabbing his hand anyway and interlocking their fingers. Although he was right handed, he’d sacrifice his dominant hand to hold hers any day.

The four of them talked easily, Uncle Rick staying out of the conversations mainly, but he hummed or protested every so often to give pieces of mind (even though it was severely unneeded).

“So, YN, I heard that you graduated a couple of months out of medical school? How’d that go? Normally girls your age sleep around to graduate from something so difficult, hm?” Uncle Rick commented disgustingly, food spewing out of his mouth since he was talking with his mouth full.

“Um– sorry, what?” YN choked on the wine she brought, a fiery look already in her eyes. Her parents’ expressions dropped instantly, her dad already trying to sputter out an apology.

“If you’re implying that I slept with the higher ups to graduate then I’m sorry, you’re dead wrong. I worked so hard to get to where I am now, and maybe if you hadn’t been estranged, mind you, we didn’t even know who you were, then maybe you would’ve noticed. Or maybe, you’d still be the same sleazy prick you’ve always been. Either way, it’s no bother to me, I know how you feel after all. The way you try to subtly touch me and my sisters, we all notice it, but we’ve been biting our tongue for so long, because you know what? You’re family. But I’ve honestly had enough of it. Mom, Dad, me and H are leaving, thank you for dinner, but I really, really can’t.” She spewed out without missing a beat, tugging Harry up with her. He turned his head to look up at her, but he could see the upset look in his eyes and stood up without another word. He let go of her hand to go around the table to kiss her moms cheek and to clap her dad on the back.

He walked over to the threshold to leave, before deciding to give a little to this conversation as well. “Y’know, Uncle Rick, I tried m’hardest to be respectful as well, and I always wanted t’make a good impression, especially since I was with my best friends family, but I’ve been here f’longer than y’have to know that they’d love me either way, so I’ll just say this before I go; I didn’t mind when you’d make comments about me, but it’s another thing when y’making weird comments about her. She’s everything t’me, m’soulmate, really, and I feel bad that you’ve probably never had one. It would explain why y’so miserable, wouldn’t it?”

Rick tried to say something, but was quickly cut off. “And I pity that you’ll never get to see how wonderful YN is. I really do pity y’for that. She’s incredibly smart, beautiful inside and out, and y’threw away the chance to have something amazing with her. So for your own benefit, I hope something changes f’you so you can get t’know her. But if not, don’t worry, really, we’re very fine off without you, anyway. Goodnight, Y/M/N and Y/D/N, it’s been wonderful seeing y’both again. ‘M sure we’ll be back soon in better circumstances, I hope.”

And with that, he leaves the kitchen, leaving the three of them in awe.

Grabbing the both of their coats, noticing how YN had forgotten hers, he slammed the door shut and stalked quickly to the car, noticing how she was already in her assigned seat (He’d always joked about how she was the prettiest passenger princess), gnawing on her lips as glimmering tears lay stagnant in her eyes. He walked faster when he clocked this, knowing that her biting her lips was an anxious tic of hers. Popping open the door, he sat and settled into the driver's seat as fast as possible, turning on the ignition to power on the heater as quickly as he could.

She turned her head to him, and he grabbed the back of her head in a tight hold, his other hand wounding around her waist. Sobs starting to fill the car, followed by soft shushing by Harry.

“It’s okay, bub, y’so okay, I’m here, it’s okay.” He reassured, heart clenching at the gutwrenching sobs that left her.

“Love y’so much, you’re s’perfect, and he’s so so wrong. You’re m’best friend in the world, the best person I know... Precious girl, wish y’saw yourself the way I see you.” He placed the softest of kisses to the side of her head, whispering sweet words to her until her sobs calmed and he felt her move her eyes from his shoulder, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“I love you, H, no one I trust more in this world than you,” She whispered, pulling back to lay her temple on his cheek. Pulling back a little more, they now looked at each other, his eyes searching her watery ones. Their breaths hitched when they realized just how close they were to each other, knowing that if they were to move even an inch their lips would touch. They both moved forward a little, before jumping away from each other when Harry’s elbow pushed a little too hard on the center of the wheel, the horn honking.

A shy laugh left her lips as she spun back to face the windshield, a soft blush coating her cheeks. “Home?”

Harry cleared his throat, nodding slowly, a smile growing on his face when he realized that she referred to his house as home. “Yeah, bub, let’s go home.”

— 4

“Harry! YN! Come in, come in!” They smiled at her friend Alex, who was already noticeably drunk, a pink flush on her cheeks. As much as they didn’t like parties, they decided to show up to Alex’s birthday party, the decision hard for the two of them since they knew it would pretty much be like a party at a frat house. Alex pulled on YN’s hand, dragging her inside to the party, Harry being tugged along as well when he grabbed YN’s outstretched one. They get dragged to the kitchen, being heavily encouraged by Alex to make a drink, before running away when she gets distracted by another one of her friends.

“I guess bartender Harry’s making an appearance,” Harry shrugged, “What can I make f’you, bub?”

She tilted her head, thinking it over. “My usual, please.”

“One cherry vodka with sprite coming right up, sweets!” They talked for a little, giggling when Harry had opened a fresh liter of Sprite to make sure it was safe, which started spewing everywhere and in turn, all over his white shirt. “Fucks sake!”

“Messy boy.” She giggled, taking the drink with a gracious smile. She took his hand to lead him to the living room, finding a few of her friends and talking to them, also making conversation with Harry who they knew because of how many times he’s met them. When YN had thought about it, she realized that he really is there every single time she goes out with her friends. It’s like she had her own personal bodyguard.

After a few of her friends had come and gone, she placed her now empty cup on the counter that Harry was resting his back on, trying to stabilize himself as she relaxed herself into his body. “‘M gonna go up and use the bathroom real quick, will you be okay down here?”

“Of course I’ll be okay, but you be safe, bub.” He sent her away with a pat to her bum, a squeal leaving her lips. He watched her walk away with a smile on his face, not even realizing how lovesick the grin must’ve looked. A poof of blonde hair in front of him distracted him from her figure, and when he looked down, he saw a girl with curled and messy blonde waves, thick eyeliner paired with red lipstick that’d grown messy throughout the night. “Hi?”

“You’re so hot.” Blondie commented bluntly. He stepped back to create some space between them, sliding his arm out of her rough grip. He couldn’t pinpoint the reason why her hands felt like sandpaper on his tanned skin, but it felt like he’d just been burned with a flat iron.

“Oh, um… thank you? That’s very sweet, but I’ve got a girl-” He started.

“She doesn’t need to know…” She purred, and disgust filled Harry’s face.

“I’m flattered, but I really do have a girlfriend, and she’s here with me tonight, I’m not comfortable with this, ‘M sorry.” He tried again, but every time he would take a step backward, Blondie would take a step forward. Can she not take the hint?!

“Is the girlfriend in the room with us?” She started to get annoyed. A small weight lifted from his chest because he thought maybe if she got tired of him, she would just leave. He tried to wait for this plan to work, but he realized he didn’t even need to when he saw his precious girl descend down the stairs. Her eyes caught his, and he tried to iterate in his eyes that he needed help, and fast. She noticed and tried to go down the stairs a bit faster, not even caring if she stepped on someone. She walked fast to close the distance between them, burrowing herself in the space Harry provided when he lifted his arm as she was on her way over.

“Hi baby,” YN started, pecking a kiss to his cheek sweetly, before turning her gaze to the girl in front of Harry. “Oh! I’m so sorry, that was so rude of me! Hi, I’m Harry’s girlfriend, YN. And you are…?”

Blondie stared at YN’s outstretched hand in confusion, rolling her eyes and flipping her messy blonde hair over her shoulder, whacking YN in the face with the tips as she walked away. YN pulled a face of disgust, Harry immediately brushing her face off softly with his hand.

“Fuckin’ bitch, thinks she can take y’from me,” YN muttered under her breath, quiet enough to the point that even Harry himself couldn’t hear, which said a lot since they were practically telepathically connected.

“Hm?” Harry questioned, but she didn’t say a word.

“Nothing, just crazy to think that these girls think they can get you without getting through me first, that’s all.” She smiled up at Harry innocently.

He snorted. “I send my luck out to anyone who even ends up trying. Thank you for saving me, bub. I owe you, big time.”

“Just take me home now. Can we watch a movie?”

“Anything f’you, Sweetheart.”

— 5

They didn’t really like these galas.

To be honest, it wasn’t really their scene and they’d much rather be at Harry’s house, cuddled on the couch with her feet on his thighs, his fingers digging into the heels and soles of his feet mindlessly.

They were in matching outfits, a silky emerald dress hugging her body whilst also accentuating her curves. Harry was clad in a velvety dark green suit, a black button up buttoned to just the middle of his torso matching her black YSL purse that she got as a graduation gift from him (among many other things against her wishes). They walked into the event arm in arm which wasn’t unusual for the pair. She tended to be his date to these once in a while events he’d agree to going to. The two had already walked in whispering and giggling about how they caught Glenne and Jeff sucking face in a darkened hallway near the entrance.

Harry found a couple of his friends he’d made while in the process of making the album, YN standing close to his side with a polite smile on her face. After a couple of minutes, she’d become thirsty and, unnoticeably to anyone else, tapped her fingers on his forearm that her hand was hanging on. He looked to her, a soft but questioning smile on his face, and she scrunched her nose, clearing her throat to speak. “‘M gonna get a drink, bub. Getting a little thirsty, do you want anything?”

He shook his head, turning fully to face her. She unhook her hand from the crook of his arm, nodding toward the bar. “D’you want me t’come with you?”

She shook her head no, already stepping back to move towards the bar. “I’ll be okay, jus’ keep an eye on me in case I need saving, yeah?”

“Of course, only have eyes f’you anyway.” He unashamedly flirted, chuckling at the bashful look on her face, turning her gaze to anything but him to will away the blush begging to make itself known on her cheeks.

“Cheeky boy, I’ll be back.” She smiled, shaking her head. He pulled her in a little, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before sending her away, following her figure with his eyes to ensure she was safe on the less than eight feet walk to the bar. Once assured she was there safely, he turned his gaze to his gaggle of friends, making small talk with them, nothing more than work and the weather. He’d shared a couple of laughs before his brain made itself aware that his other half wasn’t back to his side as quickly as it would normally take her, and he turned his head to look for his girl– not his girl, but– no, she was his girl. They’d both known it anyway.

His heart dropped to about his toes when he saw her turn her head too, a quick panicked glimmer in her eyes. He was unsure if he was reading her correctly, but when he kept his gaze trained on her for a little longer and watched as she gave him the same panicked look, he knew she was in trouble. She looked back forward, trying to be as polite as possible, and he excused himself from the group in the blink of an eye. Striding over as fast as his legs would allow, he slowed his pace down a little to not look suspicious to any onlookers. He found her quickly, her head turning once more, a now relieved and slightly amused look in her eyes. Clocking the creepy looking guy standing in front of her, he said fuck all to looking suspicious and picked up his pace once more.

He closed the distance between them quickly, pressing his front against her back gently, trying his best to not be overbearing. The heat radiating from his body automatically calmed her, feeling the way he let his arm snake around his waist to let his hand sit on the small space between her hip and her waist, a large tattooed hand resting on her tummy. She placed the drink onto the bar, laying her cold hand onto his warm one. He leaned towards her head, kissing her hair and humming when she leaned her head a bit into his lips.

“Hi m’love, who’s this?” He asked while tilting his head down to look at her, finding her eyes to send her a message to go along with him. She looked up too, reading his eyes instantly and knowing what they were going to do. Just like they did at the house party, they were going to fake date for a little bit. This was him returning the favor.

“Hi baby, this is Jack, Jack, this is my boyfriend– um… Peter.” She giggled, not being able to think of a better name. “He said that he’s Jeff Azoff’s personal assistant,” Looking toward the guy who shriveled into himself with fear, a smirk present her lips. Obviously they both knew that Jeff didn’t have a male personal assistant– Glenne had given the job to her friend’s daughter, and they were just as close with her as they were Glenne herself. “He even said that he’s gotten to know Harry Styles quite well himself, also offered to take me to meet him after this event, isn’t he so sweet?”

Harry had to lift a hand to rub his lips to prevent himself from laughing. “Oh yeah, darling, that would be wonderful. Think I can tag along with you? I’m a huge fan, and would love to meet the guy. Tonight might not be the best, though, I heard he’s at a fancy event or something.”

“Oh, of course, baby, how could I forget? Could I have your phone? I could get Jack’s number so we can arrange something,” Turning to fully face Jack, she giggled a little at the way his complexion now was pale like he saw a ghost. The three of them knew he’d been caught in a lie. She felt the weight of his phone on her hand and pulled it up to her face, her face ID unlocking it instantly. “What was your number?”

Jack stumbled over his words. “I- um… Uh- I just– Forget it.” Scrambling away as fast as he could, the two laughed together as she turned in his hold. She moved her arm down to drop his phone back into his pocket. She wounded her arms back up to place her arms on his biceps, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Boyfriend, huh?” He grinned, resting his chin on the top of her head when she dropped it onto his chest, a groan leaving her lips.

“You started it!” She whined, lifting her head back up to meet his green eyes.

“I know, I know. Can’t believe it took you a Rory imposter to call me y’boyfriend, though. Been waiting forever for that, really. Sounds pretty coming from y’lips, if I’m honest.” A sigh tumbled from his lips, trying to subtly let her know what he was feeling.

“Me too. In our very own romance book, eh? Fake dating trope and all.” She giggled, lifting her arms to wound around his neck, obviously picking up on what he was putting down.

They were finally having their moment.

“Gonna let me make it real, Sweetheart?” He whispered, ducking his head down to be level with hers.

“God, hurry up with it will you? Been waiting for this since we were teenag- oh!” She was cut off by his lips on hers.

It was natural. Of course it was.

The way their lips met made her truly believe in the romance books she was just joking about not even a second ago. She could taste the sweetness from the cookies they snacked on in the car on the seams of his lips, softness from the chapstick he borrowed from her still moisturizing his lips. He could feel every dip and crevice in hers if he focused enough– as if he wasn’t completely drowning in all of her. Her perfume, her hands on his neck, the taste of her lips.

Pulling away with a quiet smack, he grinned as widely as humanly possible, bunny teeth making its full appearance, as well as his dimples. He placed another sweet kiss to her nose, making her scrunch up her face.

“Fuckin’ finally. So in love with you, sweet girl, m’best friend.”

“Mm, love you, H.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines

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bunny-yan · 11 months

Note

yandere hacker and yandere ai pt 2? i loved it 🫶🏼

This post will be apart of our sharing is caring series. Thanks for 200!

yandere!hacker & yandere!ai x gn!reader x yandere!stalker

TW: language, implied masturbation, stalking, implied vouyerism, language, no minors allowed —

Sitting in front of a ridiculous amount of monitors, he worked diligently. Fingers flew across his keyboard, eyes flicking back and forth to make sure things remained consistent and there weren’t any errors in his task.

As per usual, he was behind on handling one of the requests from a client, but he would catch up and get it handled on time. He always did. He supposed he could’ve done his work while spending the night watching you go through the mundane list of tasks you repeated every night, but he was afraid that his distracted eyes would make a mistake and he would be searching for hours trying to figure out what he did wrong. If he told the truth, he just didn’t want to take his eyes away from you. The time he spent watching you shower after a long day of work, brushing your teeth, and getting ready for bed was sacred. He didn’t want to miss a single thing, especially if you strayed from your normal routine. Sometimes you’d spend hours scrolling through whatever social media you decided to keep at the time, but there were some days where your action of choice proved to be more… interesting.

Of course, he could only live with the knowledge that it was happening since Eve saw fit to shutdown your cameras whenever you were in a precarious state. He was still thinking of ways to bribe the AI to let him have a bit of fun, but his current offers proved insufficient as her walls only got harder to break through.

A flashing in the middle of one of his monitor’s caught his attention and despite his sleep-deprived state of mind that usually ignored any and all distractions, he paused as he looked at the red text alerting him that there was movement in your apartment.

“They’re supposed to be at work. Why did they come back so early?”

They are at work. They’re currently having lunch Sophie Anders. 32. Blood type: A. Has been working since-

“Okay, okay, skip the details. If they’re at work, what’s tripping the sensors?”

An intruder.

“What?” he asked, feeling a spark of irritation as he cleared his screen to pull up the cameras he placed for “protection” in your apartment.

Clicking through cameras that showed your bedroom, bathroom, living area, he stopped when he saw a bulky figure in the kitchen.

“What the fuck?” he whispered underneath his breath, attempting to get a closer look at the creep who broke into your apartment, but they were wearing a mask and hat that shielded most of their face.

From what he could see they were pretty built. The long sleeve shirt the stranger wore, stretched nicely to show off his body.

Gritting his teeth, he put the camera view of the kitchen on full screen to see what this guy was doing and to his disbelief, he was using your kitchen to make food, humming “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” as he did.

Was he just some stranger off the street who wanted a quick snack?

He shook his head as he watched the guy moving expertly through your kitchen, not hesitating in his reach through different cabinets to get the materials he needed.

It was suspicious.

A strange guy looking for a snack shouldn’t have been so intimate with your kitchen. Unless he’d done this before.

It only further proved his suspicion when he began to organize the items in your kitchen. Pots of varying sizes were stacked neatly, seasoning was arranged by type and size, he even rearranged the placement of your cups and plates for better access.

It was crazy.

When he finished making the food, he placed it on a plate before putting clear wrap over it and placing it in the microwave.

The food wasn’t for him. The food was for you when you got off work.

He didn’t even have enough time to come to terms with that fact as he instantly left the kitchen. Scrambling to follow this guy around your apartment, he watched as the stranger went in and out of your bedroom, gathering clothes that were haphazardly lying around before placing them in the washing machine in your laundry room.

I have no record of them hiring a maid.

It’s because this guy wasn’t a maid, though it wasn’t odd that Eve assumed that.

He washed the dishes he used to make your dinner, swept, mopped, vacuumed, climbed into your bed before burying his face in your pillows.

No, he wasn’t a maid. You had a fucking stalker.

His horror at the realization only grew when the guy unzipped his pants, still lying comfortably in your bed as he-

A pop-up block appeared on the screen as a nervous emoticon.

“That fucking-”

Should I alert the authorities?

His fists were white as he grabbed his desk, trying to stop himself from throwing the monitor across the room. He wouldn’t lose control. His anger would only grow at having to replace the monitor.

“No.” he said through gritted teeth.

There was no guarantee that they’d catch the guy. He also didn’t want to tip them off that something was amiss and have them accidentally stumble upon one of cameras, although he doubted that would happen it was better he was safe than sorry.

I could send them a concerning email and have them come home early to catch him in the act.

“And have them in the same place? Absolutely not.”

This guy was smart. Considering he came while you weren’t around, it was safe to assume that he knew your work schedule. He didn’t have to worry about getting caught since you lived alone and from how laid back he was about exploring your apartment, it was clear that he’d done this before. If you were to go home he’d either hide until he found a way out without being discovered or take that as a chance to take advantage of you. He didn’t like either of those options.

“Can you figure out his identity?”

He would have to remove his hat and mask in order for my facial recognition software to work properly. As it stands, I am unable to ascertain his identity.

Eve had only infiltrated your electronics. It wouldn’t be difficult to gain access to the cameras that surrounded your apartment, but he would have to set that up manually or risk exposure.

His eyes made their way back to the monitor when the block disappeared. Clearly spent, he removed your sheets to throw them in the washing machine after moving your clothes to the dryer.

He had never been so pissed off and clearly at a loss for what to do. The situation only worsened when the stranger went into a bag to retrieve what he recognized as mini cameras.

He felt fear stab his gut when he walked towards the corner of your room, going exactly where his own camera was placed before pausing as he peered into the lens. He watched as the stranger’s eyes narrowed, cocking his head to the side before laughing.

Bringing his face close to the camera, he wondered what the guy was doing before freezing when he pulled down his mask and mouthed the words, Fuck. Off.

He didn’t hesitate to remove the camera before crushing it, screen going static.

Oh, dear.

He knew Eve couldn’t really comprehend emotion, but there must’ve been something in his expression that let the AI know that he was truly pissed off. His anger only grew as the stalker swept ever corner of your apartment, destroying all of his cameras one by one before replacing them with his own.

He was forced to access your computer camera and he temporarily gained access to it in order to threaten this asshole.

Are you sure that this is a good idea?

“This asshole doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.” he growled underneath his breath.

It didn’t take long. He watched the figure bring the dried clothes into your room to begin folding them before he paused to read the blaring message on your computer screen.

GET OUT, blinked repeatedly and obnoxiously.

The figure tucked the paid of underwear he was going to fold into his back pocket before getting up and going to your desk. With his hands on the side of the screen, he was afraid that the anonymous figure was going to shut your laptop without acknowledging him, but he pushed the screen back instead.

“Can you hear me?” he asked.

Yes.

He was going to get upset that Eve responded without his prompting, but he was too distracted by what this guy wanted.

“Good. I was worried I’d have to make contact earlier than I planned in order to chase you away.”

Who are you?

“I’m their boyfriend.” he said, sitting back in the chair.

This is a lie. They are not currently in a relationship. Any contact from potential suitors has been blocked.

“Well, they just don’t know it yet.”

You are a stalker.

“That seems a little harsh.” he said, narrowing his eyes as he looked into the camera. “I’m just keeping them safe from creeps like you.”

“You’re the creep. Walking around in their apartment as if you own the place. Doing what you did in their bed. You’re disgusting.”

Even transcribed what he said, but after reading it, there was a visible grin from behind his mask as his eyes crinkled.

“Jealous?”

His fist smashed through the monitor before he knew what he was doing. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the fury he felt. He had never wished to be able to strangle someone through the monitor as much as he did right now.

He’d be pissed that he ruined his monitor later, but the fact that the broken screen showed multiple strangers only made his anger worse.

“I’ll do you a favor and not let them know that there’s someone creeping around them so return it by fucking off. You come anywhere near them, you’re dead.”

He ended the conversation by closing the laptop and the monitor went dark. He sat in silence for a while, fist throbbing as he thought over the interaction with that stalker.

He had been provoked. They knew of each others’ existence and now it was a race to see who snagged you first. He had intentions to approach you and although he was content with simply watching, he’d rather die than see you end up with that asshole. Of course, he had ever intention to ruin whatever relationship you eventually got in, but this was different. This was personal.

You should get your hand looked at. I can put in a new order for a monitor if you would like me to.

“I would like it if you shut up.”

Just trying to be helpful. I understand that with competition comes an intense desire to win and due to your reclusive nature, there is little chance of that happening.

“Not helping.” he growled.

My apologies. I will review the helpful part of my program and make changes regarding the section dealing with honesty.

This fucking AI.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yan!valentino #yandere hacker #yandere ai #yandere stalker #sharing is caring

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ The Fish Like Your Shirt

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader warning: language, too much fluff for the soul to handle author's note: i just realized i had been teasing this story for so long on my masterlist...deepest apologies. it's been sitting here done, collecting dust, and just waiting for me to post it lol. my bad lol. here it is, i hope someone is getting excited for this like a taylor swift album being teased for a long time lmao

leo liked to be romantic whenever he could. he needed y/n to know she was loved, every moment of everyday. he sharpened her swords without being asked, he learned how to braid and always carried those rubber elastics just in case. hell, he figured out how to make her a ring that could turn into a shield when she rubbed it a certain way. he loved y/n like it was breathing, it just came naturally to him. y/n, on the other hand, struggled when it came to showing her affection. leo knew she loved him, she was just unsure of how to show it. in her defense, she had never seen it before, blatant or subtle displays of love being something she thought was only in the movies. leo has distinct memories from the start of their relationship, y/n stomping up to him and shoving something against his chest before promptly running away. it turned out to be one of her gold shell bracelets, which he proudly wore everyday. she’s gotten better at it, though she had her moments. like today.

“there she is! hey, mi amor,” leo mused as y/n made her way up to him, pressing a kiss to her cheek. the girl blushed, shoving him off her with a small laugh.

“are you…are you free tomorrow?” y/n asked, averting her eyes and rocking on the balls of her feet. leo looked over at her with a wide smile before leaning against the wall of bunker nine, raising a brow at her.

“depends. i think this pretty girl is planning on asking me out, so i might need to cancel,” he flirts and y/n shoves him again, shaking her head in an effort to hide her rising blush.

‘fine, be that way. i’ll just take percy with me to the aquarium instead,” the girl huffed back, raising her head high and beginning to walk away from him.

“oh, no, you don’t. i’m going alright. you and me and all the fish in the sea,” leo mused, singing in a pitchy way. y/n laughed, weakly attempting to leave his arms to no avail.

the next day came, y/n and leo easily sneaking out of camp and catching a bus to new york. y/n was happily curled up in the bus seat, her eyes trained on the view and leo’s eyes trained on her. he’d argue his view was better. they each had one headphone in, listening to the same songs and occasionally talking but they were mainly just enjoying each other's company. finally, they arrived a few blocks away from the aquarium, y/n growing excited. she began yapping, talking about what made this aquarium stand out and what not. leo couldn’t help but look at her like she was the most important thing in the world as she talked about the size of tanks and osha regulations.

y/n presented her pre-paid tickets to the lady once they reached the aquarium and the two were off and running. leo’s hand was firmly in the back pocket of her baby blue cargo pants, watching as she pointed out a rare breed of sea cucumber. there was a tour going on next to them, but leo felt no need to listen as y/n must’ve already known everything. but then his adhd kicked in and his ears zero’d in on the guy’s voice.

“and these are butterfly fish. fun fact: these little guys mate for life, something that’s decently common in the ocean. if they happen to get separated from their lover, they will swim up higher to get a better view to find them. cute, huh?” the guy prompted before moving his tour along. leo brought his attention back to y/n, who had clearly also gotten caught up in the tour guide's speech.

“wanna be a butterfly fish with me?” leo smirked and y/n laughed, leaning up and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“couldn’t see myself doing it with anyone else. as long as you promise to swim upwards to find me,” y/n giggled as she began to walk away. leo followed, lovestruck and enamored. note to the reader: leo would later reference this in his wedding vows to y/n.

later, the two stood in front of one of the larger tanks, watching the fish swim around and around. throughout the day, y/n would randomly burst into giggles, before leo even had the chance to say something funny. she would just wave the boy's glance off with a sneaky smile, like she knew something he didn’t. y/n leaned over to leo, who’s eyes were currently trained on a school of bright orange fish.

“the fish like your shirt, by the way,” she whispered to him, like this was a normal comment. leo’s brows furrowed as he looked down at her smiling face.

“what?” “they like your shirt. the colors and graphics are nice. at least, that’s what they told me,” y/n shrugged this off, her eyes turning back to the tank. leo looked down at the vintage harley davidson shirt that piper had ‘thrifted’ for him. (he was certain she stole it, considering she had to pull it out of her shirt to give it to him.)

“tell them thanks, i guess?” leo replied, unsure, with a light laugh. y/n seemed to be lost in thought for a moment before she turned back to leo, her smile back.

“they said you're welcome. something about them being fashion experts or whatever. it’s those fish over there,” explains y/n, waving at the school of orange fish that caught his eyes earlier. despite the fact he knew he looked stupid, he couldn’t help but wave with her. at least they’d look stupid together.

“and you’re sure it was the fish and not just your subconscious telling you to compliment your boyfriend?” leo questioned with a smirk, watching the blush dust y/n’s face in waves. she gently shoved her elbow into his side, shaking her head up at him.

“whatever. you should’ve heard what the stingray was saying about you earlier, hammer head,” y/n huffs at him, crossing her arms and turning away from him. leo wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his head on her shoulder, still smirking.

“oh yeah? did he not like my pants or something?” “no, he thought you were very handsome. perhaps the most handsome demigod he’d ever seen. he just didn’t like that you don’t take care of your hair,” y/n replied and leo rolled his eyes, knowing the ray did not say that.

“liar,” he whispered into her shoulder. “hmm. you’ll never know,” y/n smirked back, turning her head slightly to rub her nose against his. leo shot forwards, pressing a short kiss to her lips.

the two left after that, y/n cuddling a shark plush to her chest proudly. she had squealed when she saw it in the gift shop and leo’s main goal in life was to make her happy. they caught the bus back towards camp, y/n’s head resting against leo’s shoulder as she squeezed the plushie to her chest. leo kissed the top of her head, watching as she lazily blinked.

“thank you, for today,” he whispered to the drowsy girl, who hummed in response. “ ‘course. we could be dumpster diving and i’d love it if you were there,” the girl replied, extremely candid in her sleepy state.

“i know, that’s how i feel too,” leo muttered back in tandem. “good. then the sharks were right,” y/n hummed against his shoulder, leo’s brows furrowing.

“about?” “how perfect we are for each other. some of them even started contemplating mating for life because they wanted what we have. they were very sweet…we should go back and free them,” y/n murmured, somehow wiggling closer to leo, who couldn’t seem to lose the dopey smile on his lips as he looked down at the daughter of poseidon, the love of his life.

“whatever you want, y/n l/n,” he whispered before realizing she’d lost her battle against hypnos, her breath evening out like waves lapping against a beach and grip loosening on her shark but never letting go.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #percy jackson #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez #percy jackon and the olympians

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majornaxxx · 6 months

Text

"You're mine you stupid slut."

ღ "Can you write a toxic baby daddy neteyam finding out reader went out flying with her boy bsf and he argues with her just to manhandle her and fuck her?" Req from @lowryv

ღ. I ENTIRELY FORGOT ABOUT THE BABY DADDY PART UNTIL I FINISHED WRITING IT I'M SO SORRY

But this has been the most fun (and most challenging to write) to date! I hope I did the prompt justice! (Please enjoy im sensitive (jk))

ღ Warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, a little dubcon??, ooc Neteyam OOC NETEYAM OMG ,P in V, possessive Neteyam, Name calling @ reader (stupid, bitch, slut, ma,), Name calling @ Neteyam (Daddy), slapping, hair pulling, brief choking, rough blowwjobsss, reader no get to cum :(( (It made sense to me), mentions of Y/n

The view in front of you was beautiful, various shades of orange and pink, the night sky just slightly peeking out from above the clouds. You sailed through the air atop your Ikran, breathing hard from the adrenaline rush you were coming down from. An excited yip sounded behind you, and you turned to see a figure passing you. Large wings flapped gently as the creature dove down to land on a rocky ledge, the rider hopping off and turning towards you. He yelled something and waved his arms above his head in a "come here" motion. You obliged and began your descent, landing beside his Ikran.

When your feet touched the ground, he playfully punched your shoulder with a wide grin. "Y/n, that was incredible what you did!" Atu'ran exclaimed. "It was nothing!" A short-winded laugh left you as you tried your hardest to catch your breath. "Oh, nonsense!" His tail lashed behind him as he described your adventurous escapades from hours before. He excitedly chatted on, his arms and hands creating big gestures as he acted out the scenarios he narrated.

Atu'ran had been your best friend since childhood. Your parents had been best friends long before you were born, the relationship trickling down to the two of you. Today your friend had convinced you to go flying with him all afternoon. "Calm down, Atu'ran." You laughed as you stretched your arms and wrists, grunting at the soreness from holding the harness for hours. "Now, why should I?" He extended his arms above his head and slid down onto the ground with his legs crossed. "I can barely get you out anymore."

"Bullshit.." You'd learned the word from Neteyam, the unfamiliar human syllables rolling off your tongue. "What makes you think that?" His expression changed quickly, and he sheepishly ducked his head. "Well.." He started. "He's been taking up a lot of your time since the announcement that you are to be mated. In all honesty, it's begun to worry me."

For some reason, his statement irked you. "Spending time with my future mate is not a crime, Atu'ran." You said, turning back to your Ikran to fiddle with the harness. "Of course, but you two are attached at the hip. I worry you're, I don't know, losing yourself to him?" You sucked a sharp breath in through your nose and turned back to look at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"N-Nothing bad, of course!" He waved his hands in front of him as he looked up at you in an attempt to save his ass. "You're just- You've changed." He was not helping his case. You rested one hand on your Ikran and the other on your hip as you looked down at him. "Neteyam and I spend a perfectly normal amount of time together." Your eyes narrowed.

Atu'ran frowned and slowly stood up, standing an entire foot taller than you. "I just-" He hesitated. "I care about you, Y/n. I only wish for the best for you."

"Atu'ran-" Your voice cut off as the screech of an Ikran echoed around you. As the massive creature soared overhead, you instinctively shielded your face with your arm. The winged creature landed beside you, and the rider quickly dismounted. You barely had a moment to see who was coming towards you before they shoved Atu'ran to the ground. "Back the fuck off!" They barked.

Oh, Eywa. "Neteyam!" You flitted forward to grab onto his arm. "Leave him alone!" He paid you no mind and continued to reprimand your friend. Atu'ran shuffled his way back towards his now growling Ikran as Neteyam yelled. "Neteyam, we can talk about this-" Your future mate promptly cut him off. "If I catch you around Y/n again, I will hang you as an ornament in my hut!"

He suddenly stood on his feet, baring his teeth at the warrior across from him. "Over my dead body." His sudden boost of confidence was seemingly a death wish. "She is MY mate-" "and you have done nothing but puppet her to do whatever you desire." Atu'ran cut him off. It felt like forever as the two men stood, gaze locked on one another, expressions filled with hatred. Atu'rans gaze flicked towards you, silently posing the question, "Whose side were you on?"

"I-" Neteyam turned, his gaze boring into you. His eyes sent shivers down your spine, and you twiddled your thumbs as you lowered your head. "Atu'ran, he IS my mate.." Your friend scoffed, turning his head away. "I expected more from you, Y/n." He said, grabbing onto his Ikran harness and pulling himself onto the beast. "Wait! But-" "I'm done waiting." He scoffed, yipping and sending the Ikran flying into the distance.

After a moment of silence, Neteyam turned to you. "You were late." You could hear irritation in his voice. "W-We just went flying, 'Teyam!" Your voice cracked as you shrunk into yourself. "Just flying my ass." He hissed, snatching your wrist and pulling you towards him. "You know I don't want you around him, Y/n."

"He's my friend!" You exclaimed. His grip tightened around you at your words, causing you to suck a sharp breath through your teeth. "You're mine. Do I need to spell it out for you? You do what I say," His free hand slid into your hair, "When I say it." He suddenly gripped a chunk and pulled you closer to him. "Look at me, Bitch." The action caused you to cry out, eyes squeezing shut. His breath was warm against your face as he growled. "Now." He pulled harder.

Your eyes shot open to stare into his. "Stupid fucking girl.." He chuckled. He let go of your arm, running his fingertips down your sides and stopping at your hips. He suddenly brought his hand down on your ass, firmly grasping the flesh, causing you to gasp. Knees wobbled, and your bottom lip quivered as the action sent electricity between your legs. "Who do you belong to?" He sighed, ducking his head down to your neck and running his tongue across your collarbone.

Your attempt to pronounce his name failed as you trembled. He released your hair, running his hand down your back and stopping to untie your top. "Who do you belong to, Y/n?" He suddenly nipped at the sensitive skin on your neck, causing you to yelp. "I- You! You, Neteyam!" Your hands flew forward to grab onto his shoulders. The loss of his warmth as he drew back caused you to whine, the noise cut off by a slap across your jaw. Before you could grab your face, you were turned around and bent over. Your arms bent behind your back, Neteyam held your wrists with one hand. "Who do you belong to, you stupid slut?!" He snarled, his free hand cracking down on your rear.

"You, Daddy!" You cried out as tears pricked at your eyes. He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back as he began to grind his hips into you. Somewhere along the way, his tewng had ended up by his feet, his bare erection rubbing against your ass. "You need a reminder, Ma. A good fucking reminder."

You shivered as he slipped your top off, reaching around to squeeze your breasts as he continued to grind against you. "Don't move your fucking arms." He demanded and promptly let go of your wrists. After a few moments, your uncomfortably wet tewng was slid down your legs, exposing your pussy to the evening air. You sighed, the noise cut short by a squeal as he slipped his cock between your thighs. You whined as he dragged his length overtop your clit, avoiding properly fucking you. He groaned, rolling his head back as he felt your warmth against his cock. "Fucking wet…" He moaned deeply. Suddenly, he pulled his hips away entirely, causing you to whine at the loss of friction between your thighs. "Nete-" You started, crying out when he suddenly thrust forward, filling you up entirely.

"Fuck!" You whined, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. Neteyams hand found leverage in your hair once more, causing you to yelp as he began to fuck you. His free arm wrapped underneath you as he held you up and against him. Your legs trembled and shook as his cock hit deep inside of you.

His breathing was rackety and hot against your ear with every movement he made against you. Your hands scrambled to find something to grab onto, eventually grasping onto the arm he had put around you. "You wanted this right? You hung around Atu'ran all afternoon just because you wanted to be fucked?" Neteyam hissed. "N-No! 'Teyam, I didn't!" Your voice cracked as you spoke. "Don't lie to me, Y/n. You just wanted to get filled like a stupid fucking slut." Cries and whines escaped your lips with every thrust as he continued to accuse you. His hand released your hair as he wrapped it around the base of your throat. "Talk to me, Ma. Don't just sit there."

A sob escaped your throat as the tears that had been building up cascaded down your cheeks. "I swear! I didn't want Atu'ran!" Your nails dug into his skin as his cock continued to abuse your sopping cunt. "I don't believe you." The hand he had used to squeeze your throat ducked between your legs, his index and middle fingers making circular motions over your clit, the onslaught of new sensations making you quake.

"I guess I'll give you what you want, right? To be fucked stupid? Only Daddy will do it better than that cuck Atu'ran ever could." He snarled into your ear as he continued abusing your poor cunt. "Fuuuuck, you're so much better than Atu'ran, Daddy!" You slurred as your vision became blurry, eyes half-lidded.

"That's right, Ma.." He chuckled as he laid another slap across your ass. "You're mine." Your legs shook as you began to recognize you were close to cumming. Neteyam seemed to realize, his thrusts slowing down to a painfully mundane pace. "N-No! Daddy, please, please let me cum!" You began to whine as he took away your release. "Stupid girl, did you forget?" He slowly pulled his cock outside of the warmth of your pussy and groaned. "You don't cum until I cum."

Your wobbly knees caused you to topple onto the smooth stone, panting and shaking. Neteyam's name spilled from your mouth in mumbled gasps as the disappointment sunk in, knowing you wouldn't get to finish. You sat on your hands and knees as he let you go completely. Carefully observing, he walked to stand in front of you, slowly lowering himself onto his knees. Your head snapped upwards to look at him with teary eyes as he chuckled, sliding his hand under your chin to grasp your face.

He ran his thumb across your bottom lip, and you shivered as his touch sent butterflies to your stomach. "So fucking pretty when you listen to me." He purred before sliding his hand to the top of your head. "Listen to me, and you'll get to cum." He said as he stood. Neteyam wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few slow strokes before positioning himself in front of you. He tapped it against your lips a few times before you opened up in an "o" shape.

His grip suddenly grabbed a chunk of your hair as he pulled your head down. You let out a choked squawk as your hands flew up to grab onto his legs for leverage. Neteyam settled into a quick pace as he started to fuck your throat, grinning as you looked up at him with teary eyes. "Hows my cock taste, slut?" The taste of yourself on your tongue from your earlier activities sent warmth between your thighs as you continued to swallow him whole.

He laughed as you answered his question with a muffled "mmhmm..", obviously unable to properly answer due to your throat being stuffed full. He balled his hand into a fist in your hair and began to push your head to meet him in the middle, groaning and allowing his head to roll back. You picked your hand up to cup it between your legs and he yanked you backward, his palm striking across your cheek. "You don't fucking listen." He hissed and grabbed your head with both hands. His palms on either side of your head, he began to thrust into your mouth at a quick pace.

Finally, you were able to tear your head away, gasping for a breath. "'M sorry Daddy.. I'm so sorry Daddy.." You panted as you forced yourself to meet his eyes. "Stupid slut." He snatched you and began to manhandle you as he fucked your mouth, causing you to squeal. "Not getting away from me now, bitch." Neteyam growled.

Nails digging into his thighs, tears fell down your face as he filled your throat. "Drink every fucking drop for Daddy." He grinned as his thrusts became inconsistent, eventually stopping as he came. You let out a muffled hum, Neteyam pulling your mouth off of his cock with popping noise. "Swallow it." You nodded, coughing, but swallowing and opening your mouth to show him nonetheless.

"Good fucking Girl.." He exhaled through his nose with a groan. His hand slid underneath your chin to tilt your head upwards, wide teary eyes meeting his. "Bet you'd spit Atu'ran's out." He chuckled, your face turning pink suddenly remembering your scorned friend. "Stand up." He commanded, and you scrambled to do so, wobbling on your feet. "Get on your Ikran. We're going home." Neteyam reached down and tossed your clothing back at you.

"W-wait, what?" You stuttered. "What about-" "If i'm going to let you cum after what you did, it's going to be in MY bed, Y/n." He spun to look at you, deep eyes boring into you and sending shivers down to your pussy. "Yes Daddy-" You squealed as you began to frantically tie your tewng back on with shaking hands. Neteyam yipped, and the two Ikran who had previously flown off returned to land in front of you. His squawked, and Neteyam laughed with the large winged creature.

He pulled himself onto the back of the beast and turned to face you. "Be quick. I won't let you cum if you aren't back within the hour." The statement made you immediately turn to him to protest, "Wait! But I can't get there in ti-" "Within the hour, Y/n. Unless you want to get Atu'ran to take care of it? I'm sure he knows your body well." He remarked. "N-No! No, I'll be there!"

"An hour." He stated before taking off.

ღ

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #fanfic #smut #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar twow #atwow #atwow neteyam

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taylormarieee · 25 days

Text

In my Feelings Luke Castellan

Summary: You find Luke talking to another girl and after taking action it backfires on you and now you might lose the love of your life...

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, fire, arrows being shot, hair burned off, threats, Luke being a douche and terrible boyfriend, sad reader, humiliation, drama, anger, reader being a badass, that's all enjoy!

Previously:

He faced your body away from the door and shielded you with his body that way if Chiron came in, he wouldn't see you.

"I got my eyes on you my pretty girl. Won't let anything happen to you baby."

He finally drifted off to sleep letting his dreams flow like a river, a river full of love and happiness.

He finally had a peaceful and loving dream rather than a nightmare. And he was grateful you were the cause of his fantastic dream.

Now:

Three weeks later your walking around Camp half blood and it's cooler than normal. Maybe it rained and brought cool breeze but the sun was still shining.

You were walking towards archery as this will be the first time you go back ever since the "Incident". The incident where that boy came onto you and when your heard Luke confess his love for you offically.

You both were now in a happy relationship that's been going on for a month now and personally, you think it's the best thing in the world.

He's handsome, smart, very sneaky, and a total goofball, but he's your goofball and that's all that mattered to you.

As you were walking towards archery you saw Luke there and your face lit up and you started smiling, but that smile sooned dropped when you saw him with a girl. It wasn't just any girl, it was Candice.

She was a demigod child of demeter, she was also head counselor of Cabin 4. You didn't mess with her or get on her bad side because you didn't want poison ivy in your bed sheets or some type of flower to put you to sleep.

He was laughing with her and she was touching him and was too close for comfort, way to close for your liking anyway.

You felt a little hurt, he never liked Candice, he always hated the way she acted so prissy and stuck-up. Those stuff he told you were clearly lies if he's laughing with her and letting her touch him like that.

You stared at the both of them before Clarisse and Percy came up to you. You and Clarisse became closer friends and you helped her and percy settle their differences, there not friends but they tolerate each other.

"What's up? You look sad." Percy asks, his face contorting into one of worry. "Luke and Candice. At Archery. Look." You say in pieces not even able to say a proper sentence. They both look to where your pointing and see what you see.

You hear Percy sigh and you can feel Clarisse roll her eyes. "Candice was always a bitch anyway, and Luke was too good for you. Let's go, it's almost lunch." She says grabbing your arm to try and turn you away.

You stay in place and look at percy, he has an apple in his hand. "Hey can I borrow that for a second? Thanks." You say not waiting for his reply and snatching the apple from him.

You hear him protest in the distance but just walk closer to the two. "Hey Candice!" you shout not even acknowledging Luke, you were pissed now, but you didn't wanna show it.

A couple of other campers were aware of your presence and were nosy enough to want to see what was happening.

"Oh, hi! What's up!?" She shouts but as you get closer, your nice facade drops. "Hold this apple and put it on your head and stay fucking still, got it?" You demand before finishing off your sentence with a charming smile.

Clarisse and Percy give each other a knowing look and sit back and watch not even attempting to stop you.

Candice, looking like the confused girl she is puts the apple on her head anyway and stands still. You smile at a little girl before asking if you can borrow her bow and arrow.

You get in position and hold it out, but of course you wouldn't be you without a little flair. "Light it up please." you ask politely. Candices smile drops and she gets scared.

Someone rushes over and lights the tip of the arrow on fire and you smile and thank them. "uh I didn't sign up for this." Candice says moving a bit. "Didn't I tell you to stay fucking still? You signed up for this when you decided to flirt with my fucking boyfriend." You snap back.

You ready the arrow and release it causing it to hit the apple but what you didn't expect was for the fire to burn some of candices hair in the back. Luckily Luke put it out with some water. She screamed and stormed off before looking at you one last time.

'She had it coming.' you thought. You looked at Luke, rolled your eyes and walked off before he could even chase you. You walk up to Percy and Clarisse and wrap your arms around them, "Anyone hungry?" You say with a smirk on your face. You and Clarisse laugh and Percy smiles.

It was a couple hours after the incident and Chiron decided to make an example out of you, in front of everyone.

"Y/N Y/L/N and CANDICE CAPONE! Come up here now!" He yelled, silencing everyone and making all their heads turn towards you and Candice. Your eyes darted around before they fall on Luke.

You were still angry but that anger would soon turn to sadness. You looked at Clarisse and then Percy and the Annabeth and lastly, Grover. You smiled at all of them as they had worried expressions because they've never seen Chiron so mad.

You walked up and Candice stood on the other side of Chiron. You two stop in front of each other but looked at Chiron. "You, y/n y/l/n did something extremely unexceptable. You shot an arrow at a fellow demigods head and burned her hair. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" He asked

"Yes, yes I do. Candice Capone, I'm extremely sorry for what I did. It was not nice and completely unfair to you. I shouldn't have done it, but I didn't think that was going to happen. So for that I'm sorry. Do you accept my apology so we can put this shit- sorry, this situation behind us?" You said.

You didn't actually mean it but you had to make it sound believable before you get stuck on horse duty for the rest of the week, month even. She stared at you for a few minutes not saying anything.

At that point you got tired of standing up there and was ready to sit down. "I accept your apology but I do have one thing to say to you. That's exactly why Luke doesn't even like you anyway."

The whole room gasps. Everyone literally knows you and Luke are the IT couple, you guys were perfect and everyone kew how much Luke loved you, or so they thought.

"He is so sick of you and your constant complaining, your random outbursts and just the way you always bother him with wanting to do cutesy stuff together. He said your annoying and he wants you off his back." She says with the evilest smirk on her face.

You were on the brink of tears. "That's all, but I do accept your apology because now we're even, you embarrassed me, I embarrassed you." She says before walking away to go sit down.

You stood there in complete shock. You know you shouldn't have believed it but lately the signs were coming back to you. Luke had an attitude with you yesterday because he was tired and you wanted to go swimming, you ended up going with Percy and Annabeth, and Clarisse tagged along for the fun of it.

You watched as everybody looked at you. Your eyes were dark and your expression emotionless. "Hey Candice, when your hairs all gone tomorrow and you can't grow it back, I'm gonna see whos embarrassed now. Watch your back." You threaten.

Her smile drops and you try so hard not to grab something to throw at her fucking face. You loom at Luke and that's when the tears come down. 'Don't cry, Don't cry, Don't. Fucking. Cry.' It repeats over and over again in your head but it's not working.

One tear falls and then you run off before anyone can say anything. You didn't wanna be in your feelings because then you would go into this isolation where you avoided help and avoided everyone.

You hated this and god why'd you have to be such a cry baby. You hated when you got in your feelings.

Why couldn't Luke just say something. ANYTHING! He just sat there, didn't even try to come after me and comfort me and tell me it's all a lie. Instead he sits there like a fucking jakcass and does nothing.

You wanted to drown, get struck by lighting, died in a war full of men or maybe just died in your sleep. Anything is better than this feeling. Anything is better than being in your feelings.

Slowly drowning in a pool you can't get out of. Stuck in a time loop of constant nightmares that fuel your overthinking and negatively shut you down physically and mentally.

'If only there was a way to get out. If only I could stop being in my feelings.' you thought...

Taglist: @elaratckker @lizziesfirstwife @angelicdanvers @prettyinsatiable @angelinajolie0213 @maryann2013 @kneehe-nehar7 @rhydianissuperior @urmomsbananabread @reader-bookling123 @istillremberthefirstfallofsnow @csifandom @repostingmyfavs @leo-lvr @glorywielder101 @aanoia @madelainelupin16 @ahh-chickens @callsignwidow @murdrdocs @bright-molina

A/N: i'M SORRY THIS ONE IS SO DEPRESSING STOPPPP! dw though they'll have their happy ending and their happily ever after in the last and final chapter! Love you guys and thanks so much for the support! MWAH💋

~COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE NEVER ASKED FOR BUT MUCH APPRECIATED~

#luke castellan #luke castellan fanfic #pjo luke #luke castellan fanfiction #lukecastellan #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan angst

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espinosaurusrexex · 8 months

Text

Forever, of course.

SteveRogers x Female!Reader

summary: Steve has a crush on you but your flirty character isn’t making things easy for him. Now he even has to marry you to please a 6-year-old superfan of his. Whether that’s a good plan or not, isn’t quite clear for Steve yet.

a/n: I think this will be the last AI-adaptive story but it was a lot of fun! Shoutout to @RandomTingsForFun on beta.character.ai for having created the character that helped me write this story (and the Bucky one).

Word count: 4k

warnings: a Stevie in love, an attempted funny reader, and a super excited 6-year-old (she carries the story tbh), this is really just super fluffy

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

Steve shook his head at the sight of your chat history. It wasn’t too long ago when he didn’t even know how to listen to music on the device he was holding in his hands, let alone write a text message in less than 30 seconds. Now, he was bickering with you, and he had to admit it was even a little fun to wait for a response from you. Of course, Steve didn’t do anything else in the time he waited for your reply. He just stared at the screen in his hand and willed his heartbeat to slow a little.

*ping* Why would that be important? So? Maybe I have been talking to Sam about you. Have you been talking about me with Bucky?

Steve: No I haven’t! And it is important because if he’s badmouthing me, then you’d believe him. What has he told you anyway?

You: Just the usual. Save the world this, Captain America that. I stopped listening when he started obsessing over your shield again.

You: Wait. Did you seriously think Sam would say something bad about you? That guy is obsessed with you.

Steve just laughed at your antics. Sam loved the shield for some reason, but every time Steve would give it to him to ‘throw it one time’ Bucky would intervene and ‘show him how it’s done’.

*ping* Anyway what I actually wanted to ask is if you’d come to my niece’s house with me this weekend. She’s a huge Avenger fan and I might have promised her to meet one as her birthday present 😬

Steve: Of course, I will! I would feel bad if you made such a promise and I wasn't able to make it. And I bet she'll know who her favorite Avenger is after a visit from The Cap 😉

You: ugh please don’t call yourself that. ever.

You: I’ll pick you up Saturday at 1:30?

Steve: Yeah, sounds good! I'll make sure to clear my schedule. How old is your niece by the way? And what’s her name?

You: You can call her Izzy. And she’s turning 6 this Thursday. Be nice. And make sure to talk me up a bit, will ya? I mean, I’m already her favorite aunt but just making sure...

Steve: How could she not love you? But I’ll do it anyway. I’ll talk you up so much you’ll never be able to escape my praise! What’s her favorite food?

You: weirdly enough it's carrots, that child is strange. Says vegetables make her a superhero or something.

Steve: I mean she’s not wrong. Carrots are great for your eyes! What does she think of Iron Man? I need to know my chances against the competition.

You: I just asked her and she said she doesn’t care about Tony because you are her one true love.

You: I told her that’s not possible because you are already mine. Now we’re in a big fight so thanks for that.

Steve: why would you say that?

You: I like to see her freak. Don’t worry about it, captain. It was just a joke

You: ...or was it 👀

Steve: I don’t believe you. You’re lying.

He got a little nervous. But it was a good nervous.

You: why? Do you want me to?

You: Am I making you nervooouuus?

Steve could practically see you wiggle your eyebrows with a grin. A silly idea flashed past his mind, and he felt like grabbing it.

Steve: You need to stop before I accidentally propose to you.

Nothing - just a second, though. Then:

*ping* you have a ring?

Steve: I can get one in less than an hour. Meet me at the chapel on main and I’m all yours.

You: I’m stunned. I’ve taught you well.

Steve: 😊 I’ll see you Saturday, doll.

Steve sat back on his sofa. That girl is really something. A smile broke loose on his face at the silly thought of marrying you. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind if it happened. Out of all the people he knew, you were the only one he’d want to spend the rest of his life with. You were fun and you made him loosen up. He was a whole new man around you and he loved it. Because being in your presence was easy, and comforting. There was nothing to worry about.

He sighed before putting his phone down and staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve stepped out of the door and smiled upon spotting your car. You were already waving at him, a beautiful smile adorning your face and Steve felt his heart skip. Car rides with you were nice. You always had some soft music playing. Always making sure it was nothing too funky so he felt comfortable. Still, he was a little nervous. It wasn’t every day that he go to meet someone who looked up to him - well, actually, it was every day - but this one was different. Because it was your family and Steve needed to make a good expression.

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to your sister's house. But before you could even reach the front door, a little girl jumped out of the door and ran toward you with wild screeches.

“Auntieeee!!!! OH MY GOD, you really did it! You invited Captain America!” The girl jumped up and down beside you and Steve couldn’t help his smile from spreading. Izzy was adorable - very loud - but adorable. Concentrating on it made his nervousness subside a little.

Then she turned around and stared up at him with wide eyes. He could have sworn there were little stars sparkling in them when he crouched down to her height and extended his hand.

“Hey there, little lady. It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

“I know that!” The 6-year-old giggled as Steve shook her hand. But when he was about to let go, her tiny fingers grabbed onto his wrist and dragged him up the driveway. “I want to show you something! It’s soooo cool!”

Steve was still a little cautious as she dragged him to her room. His only experience with kids came from Sam’s nephews and prior he had only gotten to hold a couple baby’s for pictures. He didn’t know how to navigate the situation, but he decided he would just rock with it.

Your niece pushed the white door with her name brightly colored on a sign hanging on her eye level open and revealed a tornado aftermath of action figures. He was able to spot most of the avengers laying scattered around a dinosaur toy but the overwhelming red, white, and blue covering her room was undeniable. There was a poster of Steve hanging by the desk and a bunch of her own drawings framing the magazine shot. Izzy appeared next to Steve again, holding a small action figure of himself in her hands.

“My aunt gave me this one. It’s my first one.” She reached up to Steve and barely passed his hip with her little arms. The figure was well loved - he could see it from here. And when he bent down to retrieve it, your niece pulled him down further and whispered a giggly ‘you’re our favorite avenger’ into his ear.

His heart swelled at the excitement presented in front of him. It was adorable, and he could see a little of you in the little girl nervously treading beside him.

“I’m your favorite, huh?” He said, his voice full of affection. Steve usually wasn’t the kind of person to get mushy over an adorable child, but the way her face lit up was too cute. The little Cap figure in her hands was pretty cute, too. “My, my. I must be pretty special then.” His thumb stroked over the blue helmet in her hands.

Lost in thought and seriously flattered by being the hero that inspired this impressive collection, he almost didn’t notice how Izzy threw her hands in the air. “So special! My mom says I will marry someone as special as you one day, but my aunt says there is no one like you. That is so mean!” Her little chubby cheeks puffed with a pout and Steve had to hold back his laugh. The 6-year-old had no idea what you implied with that comment, but he still felt more pride from being called special by you and your niece than from any medal of honor he had ever gotten.

“Well, a girl your age shouldn’t worry about things like that. But who knows, maybe I will be part of your family one day.”

“Really?!” Wide eyes stared back at him and Steve could practically feel the floor vibrating when he nodded with a laugh. Izzy held out her finger and then she exclaimed a rushed ‘stay here’ before zooming past him and out the door.

Steve stayed a little longer and admired Izzy’s room before he heard an excited ‘Captain America said I can marry him!’ Which made him instantly rush to the source.

He spotted her clinging to her mother’s leg, giddy and jumpy. But your sister just shared a laugh with you over the kitchen counter. “I don’t think he meant it like that, buttercup.” Steve watched your sister explain before his eyes got stuck on the little frown on your face. Was that a hint of jealousy, he was detecting? “But if he marries your aunt, he will be your uncle and just as much part of the family.” A little fire hushed past your older sister’s face. It was a look of mischief he had seen you hold all too well. Steve’s cheeks heated when you caught him leaning in the doorway, scratching his neck at the slightly awkward situation.

“That works?”

“That’s how it works, baby.”

Izzy turned with excitement and within a second she was before Steve again. “You have to ask my aunt to marry you! Right now!!” She ordered with a stomp of her foot. “Then you can be my uncle and we can hang out every day!”

Steve’s eyes wandered from the six-year-old to you and his heart picked up its pace at the laugh you shared with your sister. There was no harm in a little play pretend, right?

So, he knelt down in front of you and when your name traveled past his lips softly, he almost imagined a grasp coming from you. “Will you,” his head tilted with a wink, “marry me?”

You hid your laugh behind your hands as they covered your mouth in feigned astonishment. But Steve caught the little glimmer in your eyes at his little show. He continued to take your hand as he threw together a little speech for Izzy to hear, and when the child began excitedly jumping up and down beside him, your face softened.

“Oh, Steve! This is so unexpected!” You clutched your chest and your sister chuckled beside you. Steve felt a tinge of nervousness wash over him then, but he would be okay with a fake rejection - he wasn’t sure if Izzy would, though. “Of course, I’ll marry you! Come here you big, hunky, handsome superhero!”

And as if he hadn’t been prepared for you to agree so quickly, Steve felt his cheeks heat up. He couldn’t deny that the words you described him with had his stomach tingle with excitement, and before he could help himself, he leaned forward and kissed our cheek.

“That was the easiest marriage proposal ever,” he mumbled beside you to which you just slightly pulled from his embrace.

“What? You’ve done that before? Are you already cheating on me, Rogers?” You raised your brows suspiciously, but Steve was only able to shake his head with a smile before Izzy blared into his ear again.

“A wedding! A wedding!” She swirled by him like a tornado, immediately collecting things around the house. “Mom, get all the stuffies, ready! We have to do a wedding!!!” And then she was off to prepare the quickest wedding in history.

Steve shook his head as his arm remained around your waist. “What did I get myself into?” He mumbled to himself before turning to you. “Do I dare ask what a six-year-old’s idea of an official marriage ceremony looks like?”

“I think Paddington Bear will be your best man and if I’m lucky, my sister gets to be my maid of honor, but who knows.” You shrugged with a laugh that warmed Steve’s heart all over again.

❁ ❁ ❁

Not even ten minutes later, Steve found himself kneeling beside a makeshift altar with a bunch of toys and stuffed animals as wedding guests. Action figure Cap had made best man and was neatly propped up behind him. Your sister had officially been crowned the ‘disco machine’ along with a lengthy speech on how important the right song was for the bride’s entrance. Steve had fought hard to keep his face steady, but when Izzy had suggested ‘Party Rock Anthem’, he’d lost it. When really, he was just proud, he knew the song because you had shown it to him the other week - it was Izzy’s favorite.

You had been instructed to wait behind the couch until the music started to play, and Steve felt himself get a little nervous. It was silly, but somehow his desire to have this wedding according to your niece’s wishes was a lot more important to him than he had initially thought.

“Now what do we do?” He asked as he leaned over to Izzy, but that was when the girl gave her mother the ‘sign’ - which was the chicken dance, of course - and his eyes immediately swerved to you. He could see the amusement in your gaze as you bit back a laugh.

Izzy wasn’t wasting any time, as soon as you had reached the altar, she put your’s and Steve’s hands together and immediately began talking. Steve had had barely any time to wipe the sweat from his clammy fingers before they connected with yours, but you didn’t seem to care. He smiled as he watched you listen to your niece’s little speech.

“We are gathered here today, to make Captain America my uncle,” she started, and both you and he struggled to keep it together. It was cute though, and something about becoming this little girl’s uncle excited Steve like nothing had in a long time. “Mr, Captain America, will you take my aunt as your wife?”

Izzy’s eyes were serious as she waited for Steve’s answer. And when he didn’t do so fast enough, she leaned over and whispered the answer to him.

“I will,” Steve chuckled and gave your hands a small squeeze.

Then Izzy’s eyes wandered to you. “Do I even have to ask?” She said with her adorably high voice and everyone started laughing.

“Yes, I will take Steve as my husband,” you answered with the same squeeze of your hand as Izzy imitated the audience cheering.

“You are now husband and wife. Now, kiss, kiss, kiss!!!” It was a little awkward, but Steve leaned in, anyway, to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. He looked at you again and the spark in your eyes was a little brighter as that smile lit up your face again. You looked beautiful, Steve thought, and his heart jumped in his chest at the realization.

“Wohooooooo!” Your sister cheered loudly and ripped Steve out of his trance.

“This is so awesome! You have to come to every family dinner and we can be best friends forever!!” Izzy must have eaten a bag of gummy worms with the way she was vibrating to the song coming out of the little pink CD player. Steve was sure he’d never seen such a hyper six-year-old before.

“Every family dinner?” He asked her as Izzy swayed his hands to the music. When his eyes caught yours, you just shrugged. "Forever?"

"Of course!" Izzy exclaimed as Steve spun her around. His eyes stayed locked on you, however. Forever didn't sound so bad...

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” You laughed, but Steve didn’t mind that in the slightest.

❁ ❁ ❁

The evening had come sooner than anyone had anticipated. Steve had been so occupied with Izzy all day, he had forgotten all about the time. It didn’t bother him too much, though. He had fun, but exhausting as well. And now that he was finally sitting in your car again, his head leaning against the headrest and enjoying the silence for a moment, he felt how much energy it had really cost him. He would do it again, though - especially if it meant marrying you over and over for eternity.

His eyes opened when you sighed beside him. You hadn’t so much as bothered to start the car just yet, and Steve was kind of happy about that.

You smiled at him when his head turned to you, still leaning back with a dreamy smile himself. “Who would have thought that we would get married today?” You chuckled with a shake of your head. “And you didn’t even give me a ring. I should reconsider my standards.”

“A ring, you say? Well, you are married to the greatest superhero in the world - according to your niece - so I think we’re going to need something pretty special...” Steve joked as he turned in his seat to look through the car, and when he spotted the right thing, the smile returned got his face. “Should I do the honors?”

And then he took the lid off his water bottle and popped the plastic ring off to place it on your finger.

“It’s perfect, blue like your eyes,” you laughed watching the big plastic ring hang from your finger. “I’m gonna have to get that resized, though. You must think I’m fat.” You shook your head. “Wow, not even a day in, and I already have things to tell my therapist about.” But the mischievous glimmer in your eyes told Steve that you were only joking.

“Do I really need to say it, doll?” He took your hand in his before spinning the plastic piece. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” He whispered, secretly meaning every word.

You laughed it off but Steve didn’t miss the stutter in your smile at his words. It made the butterflies in his stomach go wild.

“So what should our first act as a fake married couple be? Celebratory drinks at the Stark Tower rooftop bar?”

"Stark Tower... that sounds good to me.”

The engine roared to life and soon, the faint music was playing in your car again, the streetlights passed him by and the full moon shone above the New York City skyline. But Steve didn't care, he had more beautiful things to look at.

❁ ❁ ❁

“You’re what now? Married?! And I wasn’t invited?!” Sam’s shocked face yelled across the bar, making few agents turn their heads with intrigue.

You chuckled before leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder. The second Martini seemed to already work its wonders on you, but Steve loved how close you were.

“Married by a six-year-old. Count that as you will, but I have a ring on my finger and I’m not telling you how much it cost.” You stretched your hand over the counter to show off the blue piece of plastic and Natasha just laughed at the cute story.

“So, how is the newlywed life?” She leaned on her hands to play along while Sam still tried to get over his non-invitation to a fake wedding. “You guys talking about kids yet?”

That startled Steve a little but he tried his best to keep a straight face - he failed. The thought of having a family with you did things to him he couldn’t explain if he wanted to. The warmth in his stomach spread to his heart and his arm almost instinctively came up to press you further into his side.

“Who knows, I wouldn’t mind a couple mini me’s.” He shrugged with a low smile. He loved this little game more and more. It just got harder and harder to remind himself that it was just that - a game.

“Hold your horses, now. You’re not the one squeezing them out of your body, Mr. Rogers.” You patted his chest and sighed theatrically. “I can already see that I will be home alone with a bunch of kids and you’re working late every night. Our life will fall apart!” Your hand brushed over your forehead as your head fell back like that of a damsel in distress.

The group laughed at the little performance, but Steve was a little quieter now. Somehow, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he needed to tell you how much he really cared. He’d never let your life fall apart - not when he was able to prevent it. And while he sat there with his friends, laughing about something as ridiculous as Captain America settling down, he contemplated in silence, if all this life had really been worth it when he would end up alone in the end - giving up the dream of an easy life he’s had for a century.

❁ ❁ ❁

It was about 12am when Steve and you stopped before your door in the hallway. His eyes were glued to you, his mind racing with scenarios this could go. He had decided to tell you about his feelings about two hours ago, and ever since, he had tried to come up with the best thing to say. But even though talking to you was the easiest thing he’d ever done, and even though you were already married - fake married - he didn’t have a single idea. Not one word that seemed fitting enough to describe the exciting fireworks in his chest whenever he saw you, to somehow tell you how bad living without you would be.

He must have been staring for a while because you began to shift from one foot to the other before finally clearing your throat to kill the silence.

“So... uh... that was an eventful day...” You started, fists nervously opening and closing beside your body. “Thank you for playing pretend. You made a little girl very happy.” You smiled and Steve’s heart skipped another beat.

He caught the small shimmer in your eyes just in time to give him confidence. Your body kept moving forward as if you willed it back again and again, and Steve gathered all his bravery to open his mouth.

“You know what,” Your name tumbled over his lips like a song he’d sung a thousand times. But the effect it had on you still excited him every time anew. “Today... it’s not going to be pretend.”

And before you could even react to his weirdly vague statement, Steve leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. Full of love and affection, his hands moved on their own - one to your hip and the other onto the wall behind you. There was a moment of panic settling in Steve’s brain, but then your arms came up to sling around his torso and he leaned further into your touch. You pulled him even closer, your lips melting with his, tongues gently stroking soft skin until air got scarce. His whole body felt electric with you so close to him - finally. And when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed and thoughts swimming in the moment you had just granted him.

“I... I love you.” He whispered against your skin, and he felt his warm breath bouncing back. Your chest was still rising and falling beneath him, a subtle reminder of how breathtaking all this was - Steve couldn’t get enough of it, of you.

Your hand came up to stroke over his cheek, making him open his eyes to find you already looking at him.

“I love you, too, Steve.” You bit your lips, and it made Steve just press his mouth to yours once more.

Wanna be added to the taglist?

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a/n: I have to say I was pretty impressed at how much it adapted to my writing and I really liked the last part, so I put it in here. I hope you enjoyed it :)

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 13 days

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𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟏

(𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

⚠️MDNI. 18+ ADULTS ONLY⚠️

🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Rating: Mature

Category: F/M

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler

Relationship: Sebastian Michaelis/CielsCousin!Reader

Characters: Sebastian Michaelis; Reader

Summary: You visit your dear cousins manor in the countryside to get a well deserved break from the humdrum exhaustion of the city after an illness. What you do not expect from your quaint retreat is the start of an exhilarating illicit affair with the butler. But taboos mean nothing when lust love transcends human norm.

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut; Sex; Vaginal Sex; Eventual Smut; Neck Kissing; Kissing; Gentle Kissing; Surprise Kissing; Making Out; Implied Sexual Content; Phantomhive manor; Reader-Insert; Victorian

A/N: not beta read. We die like men.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 1: 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔲𝔱𝔩𝔢𝔯; ℑ𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤

“My lady,” you hear a soft voice calling you, “My lady, you must wake up, it is morning.” You open your eyes. The sheets around you are soft, freshly laundered. Your head sinks into the large white pillow, and you take a deep breath that turns into a yawn and turn over to go back to a more comfortable position. But the voice rings out again. “Now, that won’t do at all...” You twist your neck toward the direction of the voice. The sound in meats your ears like the gentle beat of a raven’s wing. Shielding your eyes because of the bright sunlight streaming in through the windows, you squinted to see a dark black figure stood before the opened curtains around your bed.

Sebastian Michaelis; the imposing shadowy butler of your cousin, Ciel Phantomhive who’s estate you were staying at while you visited the countryside after your illness. This man’s efficiency left you in awe. Managing an entire household with three other servants, an old butler, and a young master who was still very much a child. His roles extended far beyond that of an ordinary butler, to that of baker, chef, driver and even a pseudo parent. Additionally, with his smooth, silky, jet-black hair and contrasting pale skin he looked rather like a vampire – one from the cheap romance novellas you would pick up from the bookstore to keep yourself entertained. You definitely wouldn’t mind him sinking his teeth into your neck. You had been inappropriately lusting after the man ever since he greeted you into the Phantomhive manor. He was gentle and helpful, and you had found yourself yearning for the feel of his hands upon your skin. Sebastian seemed to sense your longing and took it upon himself to torment you with his sly touches at every opportune moment. He took your hand to help you down stairs, tied your shoelace if he thought it wasn’t done up well enough kneeling in front of you, he even lifted you and took you to bed one night when you were feeling especially tired from the day’s activities. You had been mortified to have been treated in such a manner but when he had leaned down and kissed your ear whispering a soft goodnight you exploded on the inside. Ever since then, you had been thinking the lewdest thoughts about the man- who would often catch you staring at his back and would wink at you and laugh when you turned red. And often your fingers would slip between your thighs, to rub over your mound below in an attempt to quell the aching need.

“Your maid seems to have caught a slight cold my lady.” Sebastian speaks drawing you back to the present. He smiles. “I hope you don’t mind me standing in for her this morning. I wouldn’t want you to exert yourself so soon after having recovered from one illness.” His eyes crinkle and he tilts his head while his smile grows wider.

For a moment, you stare at him and then understand the implications of his words. Still not fully awake you muster up the energy to ask, “But, who is to help me with my dressing?”

“I’m pretty sure you will find me capable enough, my lady.” He says, still smiling. You sit up quickly. Heart pounding in your chest.

“Sebastian!” you expel in admonishment “Surely that would not be proper!”

Sebastian prowls over to the the edge of the bed and leaning down, says, “Would it be as improper as this my lady?” He plants those smooth pale lips onto yours. They burn hot against your cool pink ones. You feel his hand caressing your cheek. Your heart beats hard in your chest and you sit rigidly unable to process what is happening around you. Is Sebastian really kissing you? Are his lips truly on yours?

But before you can fully digest what happened, he moves away. “Are you awake now my lady?” he asks. You touch your lips feeling incomplete without his warmth and nod. “Good.” He says. “I want you to be awake for this.” He smoothly takes off his black coat and lays it down on a chair, then his vest, then as he unbuttons his shirt he climbs onto the bed. “Impropriety has been a recurring thought in your mind, has it not my lady?” he says to you. He kneels down in front of you. You feel your heart beat – loud enough for the whole mansion to hear.

“Wh– whatever do you mean, Sebastian?” You feign ignorance, trying to ignore the loud pounding of your heart.

“Don’t be coy my lady.” He smirks, his body almost enveloping you on the bed and playing with the string on the neck of your nightgown. He pulls it – untying the bow that your maid had made the night before. So smooth. His movements flow like a stream of water. Almost inhuman. You look into his eyes knowing that however improper it may be, you wanted the man. You wanted him in the basest way that a human may want a human. He cups your cheek in his hand and you can’t help yourself, you move forward to feel his burning lips against your own once again. He runs his fingers through your soft hair and wraps his arm around your torso pulling you closer. You pull off his already unbuttoned shirt. The heat of his body penetrating your thin nightgown. He presses his body against yours, kissing you, a hunger in his movements like no other you knew. His fingers reach your breast and he kneads it roughly. His tongue seeks entrance at your mouth. You open up readily, moaning softly at his touch. He tastes spicy yet at the same time sweet; it reminds you of chocolate a rare taste for such a rare man. Wanton moans drip from your throat and you just want more and more. Your head feels heavy—intoxicated.

You close your eyes and pull him closer. He’s lean, yet you can feel hard muscle under the skin. Sebastian holds the bottom of your nightgown and looks at you with heavy lidded eyes. “Are you sure about this my lady?” For a moment you think you see them flash a dangerous red but shake it off seeing them their regular brown.

You close your eyes and nod, biting your lower lip. It is what you want. Damn all the restrictions of society. Damn it all. It was your body and here was a man who made it writhe and respond on its own accord – without your control. You wanted him to feel you, touch you, make love to you. And you knew, he would appreciate you to the fullest – you would bloom like a flower beneath his touch.

A/N: This was originally posted on AO3 back in 2017. Since then much time has passed and i wasn't feeling the motivation to continue this series, but now with this resurgence of Kuro I would like to take this series up again. I am posting it here now, with changes made and small edits. Just to make it a better read while still keeping my original story intact. I hope you've enjoyed. As always, Likes and Reblogs are much appreciated and Comments will earn you kisses.

Masterlist

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winterarmyy · 10 months

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Behind The Facades | Part III

An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 1.9k++

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: near assault, bickering, mini(i think?) grovelling, tiny fluff and of course what else than angst.

P/S: Thank you so much for your support from previous chapters! At first, I didn't plan to make this a mini series at all, but here we are. Anyway, enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N wished that she could live up to her own expectations. That she would enjoy every second of this date. But who was she kidding?

How was she supposed to be present in the moment and savour the wonderful dinner or relish the breath-taking scene of glimmering city lights through the windows at their table, when all she could ever think of was Bucky?

Bucky.

That god damn son of a bitch, Bucky.

She felt suffocated by both anger and pain. Completely distracted by the thought of him.

"I can't do this." Y/N abruptly stood on her feet as she confessed her truth. She paced and paced, despite the voice of Daniel calling out her name from behind.

She could barely hear him, or maybe she shuts it down on purpose because she can't afford having more thoughts in her spiralling mind.

She only realized that she was out when the sound of the hustle bustle of the city invades her hearing. She stood still for a while, wondering if she let her feet takes her away, where will she ended up then.

Before she could walk away any further, she felt a grip on her arms, pulling her to the alleyway besides the building. It was surprisingly dark and eerie even with the lively lights of the city leaking through the ends of it.

Considering he was an agent of SHIELD, he does have a quick reflex when he managed to grab both of her wrists and pinned her to the wall.

Honestly, she wasn't completely oblivious at Daniel's physical advances throughout the night; hands hovering over her ass when he lead the way, fingers grazing her thighs through the slit of her dress.

They were subtle but still relentless.

"Just where the fuck do you think you're going?" Daniel seethed in her ears, his impatient breaths huffed in between her neck.

"Oh, for fuck sake." She sighed with a slight annoyance in her undertone. She was really tired of everything at this point. Especially when this fool who thought he could throw her around like a ragdoll.

Y/N managed to twist her hands free from his grasps as her knee raised towards his defenseless crotch. However, the hit never happened, as a familiar black and gold metal hand wrapped tightly around Daniel's neck.

In a split second, Bucky had Daniel up against the opposite wall, head slamming into the hard crooked bricks of the building. Loud cluttering sound of the empty steel cans echoed down the alleyway, almost drowning Daniel's strained groans.

Although Y/N was not able to see Bucky's face, but she could imagine the cold grim in his eyes when the grit of his voice growled, "Touch my girl again and you'll see what Hydra had made of me."

She averted her eyes down to the dark and murky color of the ground when a strike of pain ached within her chest.

She hates it when he acknowledged Hydra's label on him.

A weapon. A monster.

It's imbrute and dehumanizing.

Her view didn't change its imagery until a pair of black combat boots entered the picture. She lifted her gaze just to spat at her saviour, "I could've handled him myself."

Bucky's eyes soften as a proud smile appeared on his lips, "I know, doll."

Very contrast to his gentle expression, Y/N's face was rigid and irritated. Ironically, they were imitating each other's default guise.

Y/N rolled her eyes before pushing him aside and started to walk away, leaving Bucky alone in the dark alleyway. Though her attempt was unsuccessful when Bucky managed to grab a hold on her wrist, "Wait, y/n."

She halted but refused to look back, "No. So, can you let go of my hand now?" her hands bundled into fists as she try to hold back her wrath.

Though the sidewalk was not crowded with people, in fact it was nearly empty, however she didn't want to make a scene.

"Please, hear me out." Bucky pleaded.

At least, she tried to keep it in.

Y/N yanked her hand from his, "Why the fuck should I listen to you, Bucky?!" she snapped, eyes flashing with fury.

Bucky was honestly not prepared for this, he went here without thinking of a plan to coax her. He ran to her with a sole purpose of telling her the truth, and Y/N yelling at him is not helping his nervous wreck, "Because..bec.."

Growing impatient to his hesitation, she fumed even more, "What?! Just what is it that you want from me Buck--"

And then all loud sounds of the roaring rage in her head suddenly fell into complete silence when she felt his lips on hers.

The sensory within her skin abruptly heighten, becoming sensitive to Bucky's contrasting touch on her cheeks; hot and cold in either side as he cupped her face in his palms.

His soft lips, his intoxicating scent, his desperate touch.

Everything was too overwhelming for her short-circuited brain to process an appropriate response; in fact any type of response.

So when she let her body go on auto-pilot she found herself leaning forward, craving for more of the delicious friction.

It was a short lived moment of deafening sound of her own beating heart thundering in joy and excitement before the noises of rationality came rushing back to her.

Y/N ripped herself away in complete shock and panic, "Wh--what" even she herself was lost for words.

What have she done?

She pushed Bucky harshly she shouted, "Why? Why did you--? Y-you have a girlfriend, Bucky! You have Gail!"

God, how could she kissed her friend's boyfriend?

"I can't believe you just kiss me knowing that." And she reeled into the pure anxiety.

Bucky's pleads sounded muffled as her mind spiralled in guilt and shame. He grabbed her by the side of her arms before briefly pulling her back into reality, "Listen to me, y/n"

Y/N ran her hands through her hair, gripping it in her fists as her mind turned into complete chaos, "No, god this is wrong." He could hear panic in her trembling voice.

Bucky snapped as he yelled, "y/n, we broke up!"

There was a pause in time and air. Her body frozen as his words seemed to infinitely repeated in her ears. Head slowly turning towards Bucky; finally giving him the attention he demanded.

She just blankly stared at his truthful eyes with her own pair, wide open.

"He's bluffing. He's just making excuses."

"Bullshit! You looked very much in love last time I saw you, which let me remind you, it was few hours ago!"

Bucky thought about it for awhile before he replied, "It's hard to explain everything now but she wanted to end it, for my sake." He paused. "...It's over."

He was not lying. Y/N knew that; she could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. He was telling the truth. But, it didn't make sense; why why why.

Gail was perfect for Bucky. He needs someone like her. He deserves that type of love that she gave; soft and tender.

"No no no. That can't be it. W-why the fuck are you here then? You gotta get to her Bucky! You're not suppose to here. Not with me. Go before it's too late--"

He is worthy of someone who's completely unbreakable, someone that can stay with him even at the darkest times, someone that won't see him as a weapon, but a human being.

Someone who will love him unconditionally.

Because, Bucky of all people, deserves to be loved.

"You don't mean that, y/n"

It hurts Bucky to see that Y/N thought she was unfit for a place in his heart, when she literally owns it. It pained him that she keeps putting up this facade that she unable to see her true self.

It burns her heart to let him go but that shows how far she was willing to sacrifice for Bucky, "I do. I mean it.." she can feel her tears pooling in her eyes, "You deserv--"

"Stop lying to me. Stop lying to yourself." Bucky couldn't understand she keeps pushing him away. If he truly deserve to love someone then why can't it be her?

"Lying?"

Y/N find it harder to breathe as her chest tightens. Did he see right through her? Her voice trembled as she struggled to let the words out, "I..I'm not lying."

Bucky almost scoffed in disbelief, "You think I didn't noticed it, y/n?"

All those masks she hides in. Behind the facades she wore so boldly, so willingly. Hurting herself over and over everytime she had to put up a brave face.

No.

He made her do that.

If he was honest from the beginning then things wouldn't turn out like this. She wouldn't suffer as she did. She never needed to.

"And fuck was I so stupid to turn a blind eye on you for the sake of keeping you." Bucky was breathless with anger. A rage towards himself; for his foolishness.

"Do you know why I get together with Gail?" Bucky felt as if his chest was burning, searing with flames, that if this goes any further then his heart will turn to ashes.

But Y/N deserve the truth even though he knows he need to admit his shameful doings, "Because she reminds me so much of you. Warm, gentle and so unconditionally kind. And I let myself fooled by the illusion of you that I saw in her."

"I'm a bad man y/n. I hurt her. And I hurt you. Fuck, I hurt everyone around me." His eyes stung to think how effortlessly he destroy every single person he love; as if he was designed to do so.

"I know that I deserve every single curse and scrutiny that come my way. I've always known that."

"But for once in my fucked up life," his voice betrayed him by revealing its' stuttering form, "...I also know that I am lucky to have the chance to love someone as unforgivingly enchanting as you."

There was a brief pause where the air was still and soundless; reserved for the painful sounds of their breath.

His raw emotions was laid out unfiltered in a form of streaming tears across his cheeks, "I won't ask for your love in return." He reached his hand to hers and held it dearly, "All I ask is for your forgiveness."

His eyes searched her soul, willing her to bare with him a little longer, "Because god I can't lose you. I can't."

Bucky felt like he was drowning; as he was 70 years ago at the Austrian Alps. The unbareable emotions rushed in like the frozen waters that filled his lungs.

Panic. Shame. Regret.

Y/N never thought she could come this far.

She thought she would able to lift the weight; and with the long record of success, she thought she wouldn't able to break.

But after all, she was just a human and there will always be a limit to where she will end up at.

What's the point of pretending when the person she loves is as miserable as her?

The tripedation of her only give false signals to Bucky; this is it, he was losing her.

But, there it was, the forgiving embrace he longed for. In her arms the world stopped still on its axis. He felt her body pressed in, soft and warm. This was the love he'd waited for, prayed for. Bucky's shaky hands roamed from the side of her waist before his arms crossed behind her, squeezing her closer, tighter.

How could she not forgive him? When he had pour all of him as he did.

There was no time, no wind, no sound. Just the heat of their body against each other. The melody of their heartbeats intertwining. Bucky's mind was at peace. So was hers.

No more more pretending.

No more putting on act.

She settled into the crook of his neck and whispered so soft and quiet that some won't be able to hear but Bucky did.

"I love you, too."

End.

<< Part II

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for your time to read my work. Feel free to express your thoughts in the comment/reblog! I love to hear from you~

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350 @calwitch @unadulteratedbeardpeanut @kandis-mom @abitofblues @obsessivelycraftygothfandomwitch @its-daydreamer23 @hopelessromantic423 @rabbitrabbit12321 @lovely-geek @loonalockley @superforgottensoul @awkwardalie @peter-parkers-gf @opheliabarnes @blackhawkfanatic

#winterarmyyfics #behind the facades au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #bucky angst

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 2 months

Note

Would you be open to doing a Dad!Husk with daughter reader but nobody knows (except Alastor ofc) until she gets drunk with Angel after seeing a similar scene from episode 5 with Husk and Alastor and starts crying because she’s afraid of losing her dad, and everyone puts the pieces together when Husk starts comforting her? Sorry that it’s super specific 😅

First off, oh my gosh, thank you for your request!!!

It’s all good! I love this prompt! I know that you said reader ends up getting drunk but the story took a bit of a different turn and you just end up going to the bar sober.

I hope that I still did this fic justice though! 🖤

rating: PG

genre: angst and fluff

characters: Dad!Husk x Reader

warnings: abuse, soul owning, panic attack from reader

You knew that being in Hell came with a price. Your dad had tried to shield you from the more… fucked up parts of Hell. But he couldn’t save you from everything, which is why when you were younger he made you promise to never tell anyone you were his daughter. So, you were a kid he found and was taking care of, his assistant, apprentice, a bar back when he was bartending. Which was how you ended up at the hotel.

You knew that your father’s soul was owned by Alastor, who had been nothing but pleasant to you, but there was still a bitterness in your mouth when you looked at him or talked to him. It was at the point where you could forget the fact that Alastor owned Husk’s soul. There were times you were reminded though and reality crashed upon you rudely. Like when both you and Husk were summoned to the hotel to help, and you became a trusty bar back and bartender in training, keeping the secret of Husk’s relationship to you.

This night though, your dad had gone off to find Alastor and Angel had been at the bar asking about different drinks. You couldn’t remember what actually went into Angel’s drink and neither did he saying, “It’s something Husk makes… special. Ya know?”

You sighed and just explained you’d go find Husk and get the ingredients, muttering about getting a recipe book for the bar. You were walking the halls when the lights started flickering. You ran to the hall where it was the worse, seeing Alastor conjure the chain that wrapped around your dad’s neck. Watching as the Radio Demon transformed into his demonic figure and your dad crouched on the ground.

“If this happens again, I’ll make sure you and every other disrespectful wretch knows exactly who they are messing with. Understood?” Alastor says, his voice low.

“Understood.” Husk said as Alastor went back to his normal self.

“Good man.” Alastor whistled as he walked away and you stood there around the corner clutching your chest. Your breathing too quick and tears in your eyes.

‘He wouldn’t actually kill dad, would he?’ you thought to yourself, the reality of Alastor owning Husk’s soul crashing down upon you. You quickly leave the hallway, not wanting your dad to see that you had been there, as you got back to the bar. Still trying to calm your breathing, Angel’s words asking if you got the recipe sounded like they were underwater. You nodded your head to whatever he said, and tried to start making his drink with whatever you thought went into it. Thinking you were doing a pretty good job at not showing how close you were to breaking. Until Angel came behind the bar, grabbing your shoulder and spinning you around to face him. His eyes widened.

“What’s wrong toots?” He asked, his hands gliding over your arms comfortingly and giving you a once over to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“I-I-He-And I-“ And sobs just crashed against your lips as you fell against Angel. Angel freezes in shock, and holds you, trying to calm you down. Charlie and Vaggie hear and come over seeing you a wreck. Your sobs not quieting and now all three are consoling you and attempting to get you to calm down enough to actually understand what’s wrong.

Husk finally comes down stairs, sighing and sees a crowd around the bar, normally crowds and bars are synonymous but not at this hotel. He walks over, his ears picking up your cries, automatically going into protection mode. He brushes through everyone and sees Angel consoling you.

“What’s going on?” He asks and before Angel can answer, you launch yourself at Husk. Still crying, but settling down as you feel him in your arms. Your hand going to his wrist where you could feel his heartbeat and feeling that calms you down further.

“What happened?” He murmurs to you, his arms and wings wrapped around you.

“Angel’s drink-And I didn’t know th’ ingredien’s-Went to find you. And saw you and-and-Al…” You trailed off and buried yourself in Husk’s chest.

“Oh sweetheart.” He murmured. His head dropping to rest on top of yours. “I’m so sorry.”

Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie all look at each other.

“So, that’s not just some bar back, bartender in training you got off the street?” Vaggie asks.

“Yeah, you’s both seem a little familiar with each other.” Angel adds. Husk sighs.

“‘m sorry.” You say lifting yourself off Husk.

“You don’t have anything ta be sorry for. I should be the one apologizin’.” Husk says, his hand on your cheek.

“Not at all.” You shake your head at him.

“Oh shit.” Angel says now looking at you both. “Is that your daughter Husk?” You look wide eyed at Angel and then your dad.

“Yes, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, meet my daughter, Y/N.” Husk says, gesturing to you.

“Hi!” You say waving, looking a bit sheepish. “I’m so sorry we didn’t say anything before. It was just safer this way because-“ Husk interrupts you.

“I’m sure they understand, sweetheart.” Husk looks at all of them and all nod. “And I’m sure this isn’t information that will be getting out either.” Husk looks at all of them again. Again everyone nods.

“On my word, this will stay between us.” Charlie promises.

“Not a word.” Vaggie says. Angel just makes the motion of his lips being zipped and throwing away the key.

“Now, who was wanting a drink?” Husk says, stepping behind the bar.

“Oh, that was me!” Angel pipes up and sits down.

“O’ course it was.” Husk mutters as he starts making the drink and Charlie steps forward more.

“Can we ask questions? I have so many.” She says, looking at Husk then you. You look back at your dad and he motions you forward. You smile and sit next to Angel as Charlie and Vaggie sit down too.

“What do you want to know?” you ask.

The rest of the night was spent around the bar as Charlie, Vaggie and Angel got to know you outside of what you had just been telling them and you had fun poking fun at your dad at times, recounting times like how he taught you to count with poker chips. The laughter bled into the night and marked one of the happier nights that you could remember and for the first time, you were happy to be at the Hazbin Hotel.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #dad!husk #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #dad!husk x reader #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel fluff

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alavestineneas · 13 days

Text

and if you are there, why do i feel alone in this room?

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, mentions of sa (!), blood and other parts of body, very non-healthy relationships chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 !this work is part 2 to the i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest! word count: 7,3k

author's notes: hi beautiful people! today, I have finally finished this chapter and am thrilled to say that this fic requires part 3! be aware that this piece of literature is explicit and touches on some very heavy themes, including sa and child abuse. Please be mindful of it! As always, your opinions, suggestions, and critiques are welcome in the comments. Love you, and have a tasty read!

There are a lot of books stored in her memory, locked in the neurocytes safely. They are tucked into the cortex with love and tenderness that YN otherwise taught herself to suppress as a sign of her weaker self. But papers were non-living, so she felt like it was less dangerous for her to show warmth towards them; after all, if the objects can not acknowledge your love, does it really count as real? She read everything, mostly in an attempt to prepare herself for something she did not know the face of; she read to build the shield around herself, in desperate hope to be able to help at least her future self. YN read even now, although her foolish childhood desires were long gone, just to get a glimpse of the girl she was before the monsters escaped the pages.

The book she re-read the most was nothing special, nothing suiting the image she moulded herself into—a giant, relatively old encyclopaedia of animals inhabiting the furthest corners of Known Imperium. The letters inside, although faded a little, were left almost untouched by eyes—maybe it was what drew her in in the first place—to cherish something seen as unneeded. YN learned the small paragraphs almost by heart; she liked the idea of someone taking enough time to observe something as small as a roden to know its habits. She liked the idea of it happening to her one day. As it always is, it did not.

She chose her favourite animal without that much thought. Although even the notion of having something beloved was foolish, YN was made to choose; she and her sisters played the game of forest most often. The game was simple: pretend to be a creature you are not, forgetting the countless rules they had to follow. Pretending they have claws and teeth; pretending they can protect themselves not through intrigues and hidden motives but through open, bold force. Irulan was always a Katanga Lioness; she liked it because of the proximity to their house's symbol. YN did not; the grey pages of her beloved book described them as "observed to also scavenge on carrion of animals that were killed by other predators or died from natural causes''. What king of the animals steals the work of others simply to feed themselves? She did not tell Irulan that, of course—why would she?

YN chose a mountain lion for herself. Sure, she may have made a mistake thinking it was just another type of lion, but the game went too far to change anything, so she stuck with that. She even grew to love it—the drawing of the mountain lion on her character sheet, the way it prowled through the forest in her mind's eye. It had many names and many homes. Adaptive. Captivating.

She does not know why it came into her mind suddenly—maybe it was the dim light of the closed arena. The air circulated here freely, cooling through the complex systems of vents, even though it seemed to be deprived of any life—just a mechanical circle of the same molecules moving around her seated figure and returning to the hidden openings again and again. YN looked straight ahead; the two men were still sparring.

From her bench, they looked like one—two bodies moved so swiftly that one was unable to differentiate where the lines of their limbs ended. YN squinted her eyes; she was alone in the seating area, and still, she dared not move closer. The taller, thinner figure possessed skin so white it looked almost translucent underneath the cold light—YN wondered if she would be able to see the structures in his body through his clothed stomach. He moved well, almost too well for her not to press her lower row of teeth to the top one, hiding the tongue in a cave of pearl bones—she had hoped he was worse with his bare hands. YN had counted four hundred and five seconds before he made a mistake in his steps; it was a lot more than her own results, but for a man, he was good.

Feyd-Rautha had style; she had to give him that. He fought like a serpent would: calculated, precise. His fists knew the most effective targets, and his legs knew how to escape the blows of his opponent. If YN was to guess, he relied on muscle memory less than a usual fighter would, preferring to dwell in the moment instead. It made for a good show, sure, but it was not practical. She smiled to herself; of course, the na-Baron could not know what the real battle was like. How unfortunate for him—how delightful for her. YN still can't believe he let her watch his training every morning—was he really that stupid not to realise her motive? Was he too confident to consider having weaknesses?

Regardless, she saw what she needed to do - for three hours every day, she set unmovingly on the third bench in a small fighting ground, imprinting his every move in her mind. There are so many moves you can use and so many tricks you can do before she learns them all. YN did not care for the cold gaze thrown in her direction when Feyd-Rautha collapsed on the ground, taking a moment to rest before lurching onto his opponent again. She can wait.

Mountain lions are stealthy predators.

The days she spent here changed into months, their slow steps morphing into each other until time became a blur, a concept she did not grasp. Feyd-Rautha was a hard one to warm, but before she would mould him into something she wanted, YN needed to heat his DNA to a certain magnitude; otherwise, he would simply break. She would've gladly accepted this turn of fate too, but right now, keeping na-Baron alive is far more convenient for the Bene Gessarit. For her.

A concubine. A slap in the face: it seemed like life was determined to dissolve the small bits of her dignity in its endless pool of secrets. She was not a wife to Harkonnen na-Baron; no, she was to be his whore. If she was not too tired, she would've felt a pang of fear on her rising with oxygen lungs; a concubine's position is even lower here compared to one of a lawful wife's. YN remembers the words of her teacher as she prepared her for the union: Harkonnen concubines are killed after their first night in a position; if one is lucky enough to escape the fate by being with a child, she bears him until it's time for the baby to be born. One of the greatest honours for a Harkonnen is to take the life of his mother as soon as he enters the world.

She was to join na-Baron for breakfast today—a proposal YN waited long to receive, but part of her wishes she never did. It was worded like an invitation; YN knows it was not. Harkonnens rarely spoke when they did not give orders—a creature of habit, she supposed. So, she did what she had to: follow the slave to the chambers designated for the meal. The hem of her dress shone with a colour so foreign to the fort around her; YN needed to make herself stand out. Men are much like children, she learned—the more colourful the toy, the more likely they will want to play with it.

The walls were heavy here. They didn't bend in the shapes she was used to, preferring to stand tall. They didn't have to hide their strength underneath a complicated facade—quite the opposite. They paraded it, wearing it like the honour it is. Staying unremorsefully unbending. Maybe it's the air or a different measure of gravity; maybe it's her habit of soaking up the surroundings and letting them poison her insides, growing rotten in between the folds of her stomach tissue, but her legs are metal, stone-cold, pulling YN deeper and deeper into the floor. She tries so hard to ignore the three creatures in the corner.

They are hairless, much like the man in front of her, and dressed in matching black. YN would've mistaken them for Harkonnen royalty if it were not for the iron collars on their necks and the glowing black eyes that seemed to follow her every move. She would've been happy to have some company and not be forced into solitude with na-Baron if it were not for a still convulsing body on the floor. A body she did not recognise, but it could've easily been her own.

The creatures seemed to enjoy the involuntary moves of the soon-to-be corpse; they closed their eyes in delight and bared the sharp, black-coloured teeth in sheer pleasure as they lurched into the white flesh. They ripped it apart with only their hands, not bothering to use the prepared knives for more than a big incision from head to stomach. The sounds of chewing and gnawing filled the room, echoing off the walls and sending electric impulses down her body. YN was used to the metallic smell and the bright colour of arterial blood, but this was not a simple death. It was a show, and she was the long-awaited watcher.

Feyd-Rautha seemed unbothered by the sight near him. His hands, covered in thick streaks of blood, were deep to his elbows in the body. He dissected the corpse with precision, his eyes focused and his grip steady. He looked calm, even peaceful. Na-Baron was in good humour today. ''I must say, your arrival has graced us with much more than just the dowery; nothing could've made this union more auspicious—such a rare bird you are, daughter of our generous Emperor. A princess, yet treated no better than a common slave.''

Here it was: the thing she was thinking about all the way to this strange, garbage planet in the dress that pokes bleeding holes in her abdomen with each glass she downs. From his lips, it sounds even more bitter; even savages found the way the Emperor sold one of his daughters so easily strange. "Both of our houses have traditions far beyond our understanding," YN shrugs, scaring her thoughts away like annoying flies. Here, in a room so far from the comfort of her home, they moved too fast, bringing nausea to her throat.

She is here to secure the bloodline of House Harkonnen, to ensure the balance needed in the Imperium. YN does not notice how suddenly her gaze darkens or how tightly the hands that rested on the chair are now holding the pleated velvet of her ruby-red gown. Oh, the baby. The tiny creature inside her womb, the future head for the Baron's crown to be placed upon. The yet unconcieved child she could not feel love for. She was given no other choice but to risk its life before even giving it a chance to obtain its gift.

''Then you will find my present to be quite fitting.''

YN watches in silence as na-Baron reaches inside the rib cage of the corpse. He reaps out an organ with one swift motion, almost like plucking a harmful sprout from the garden. The organ is broun and rosewood, a weird mixture of shades that make it harder for her to focus on anything but the thing in his large hand. The gift he meant to give was a human heart.

She feels his walk long before she sees a figure departing from its place at the table; she guesses the end point of his manoeuvres too easily. It's almost funny—a cruel, senseless joke; how obvious the slight tremor in her hands is; how heavy her eyes become at the sight of Harkonnen black. The body positions itself near; if she squints, she can hear the hot breathing somewhere between her shoulder blades. His hand snakes around her neck quickly, positioning the organ right in front of her mouth. YN can detect the smell hitting her nostrils before she closes the receptors in them. She wants to scream, but the notes die in her throat. Who would she scream for? She hears the creatures hiss and whisper—the heart is a good part, from what she can make out. It did not need to be wasted on people like her.

''Will you not accept it?'' Feyd-Rautha's words are mocking, but his dark blue eyes stay virgin to the laughter. They drill small spots on her neck from behind with such force that YN can almost feel the burnt smell of her sweat-covered skin.

She takes a breath. Her own heart shrinks, its vessels beating with intensity twice as much as needed. Still alive, she notes absently. Still breathing. The feeling is natural and easy; the forced calmness in her body tingles the muscles, braiding her nerves into a pattern similar to the netting. Then, she opens her mouth.

"If I shall lick the blood of your hands, Feyd-Rautha, dare to make it your own."

That's it.

Maybe the Emperor was right to spare her none of the Sardaukars and a quarter of her dresses. She did not need more; she was not expected to survive long enough to use half of her clothes. YN chucked under her breath. Dead over diet preferences—how profound.

After a moment, the pale face behind her also twists, allowing the blackened teeth to escape the grip of thin lips. Like this, na-Baron looks less human and more like the evil he was said to be. He throws the heart to the creatures—they catch it greedily—and places a bloodied hand on her shoulder, the droplets of crimson going unnoticed on the brightly coloured cloth. ''Very well, then. Let us eat.''

YN nods. She looks around almost instinctively; nothing could make her eat a thing after the sight she just witnessed, but she refuses the na-Baron once; she is not about to do it again. The food is a lot, but her plate is almost empty: only a small amount of salad is here, sadly staring into the hunger in her eyes and a now featherless creature in an unnatural pose, suggesting its non-poetical death. The bird is small, almost delicate; its wings are pitifully glued to the body. YN does not want to let her mind draw the comparison, and does not allow her brain to admit a direct analogy; she dissects the bird with a dull knife and puts a piece in her dry mouth. The creature tastes good—almost too good to be expected in this brightly lit hall.

Most often deer is the mountain lion’s staple diet. However, they can survive preying on small animals as well.

The night covers Giedi Prime rather quickly; it never lingers, politely waiting for its masters to finish their daily affairs; it hits like a coward, from behind, trapping those not careful enough to hide before its arrival. The harsh, toxic waves of lazy winds hit the walls of the halls coldly lighted with a few sphears; they look like deep forest clearings, forming a system of endless options, ultimately leading to one, inevitable, end. His work chambers aren't big; he does not visit them often for them to be. The solitary metal desk before him is filled with letters, drafts of laws, and official documents, all waiting for his approval. It exhausts Feyd-Rautha to no end, the sheer stupidity of most of the advisers here; almost half of the documents were riddled with errors and inconsistencies. The forever present in his head dull migraine grows stronger when he opens the shortest letter; he almost busts his skull open when the pain heavies.

He ponders too much—the type of thoughts you can feel running on your tongue but never escaping. He is not used to being in the mist; all of his life is so painfully contrasted that no doubt of its nature can survive the sharp edge of his mind. There are things he can escape—forget, even—but some linger in his ribcage too long for them to vanish. Soon, they grow into his lungs with small, unbreakable threads, becoming him. He used to try to get them away from his heart, as if it held some value. Now, he is smarter, older, and more indifferent, he lets them pierce yet another piece of human flesh with no sorrow.

Of course, he remembered her face. The same face that haunted his sleep ever since she dared to appear before his eyes. Feyd-Rautha, naturally, found her little frolic that day. He spent an entire evening studying her work, analysing every move she could've made with her blade to achieve such outcomes. Sure, some things he would've done differently, but the sheer brutality of an animal he would not have guessed the girl possessed charmed him. Feyd-Rautha was a proud man, but he, too, held a love for beautiful things. For that, he hadn't told the Baron of the sight he discovered in the reading room. For that, he is now willing to pretend to believe her eyes when the fear fleshes in them.

Feyd-Rautha curses; she sickens. Like a bone stuck somewhere down his throat, not letting him live without a pang of mocking. She lurks, and whispers—Feyd-Rautha wants to smash her pretty head against the wall just to reveal the secrets she hides from him so he can finally understand the hold she retains. He is no stranger to the desire to own, or devour, but the fear in the back wall of his stomach is an alien in his body. He tries to hide it—to paint over it with anger or violence—but it remains a constant presence, gnawing at him from within. It's no use; the woman is a shark, designed to sense the fright. Maybe that's what brought him in in the first place—the steel eyes so similar to his own in a narrow hall all those years before. Maybe he was so used to the danger that he craved it subconsciously, looking for it to make him feel like himself again. A reoccurring childhood nightmare he can't escape; he doesn't want to escape.

Feyd-Rautha finds the chair to put his weight on and waits until the tingling, spinning sensation spreads from his temples down his neck, finding its way into his bloodstream and passing his organs one by one, until none are left uncorrupted. Of course, he expects it. The woman slipped into his brain and now chews her way into it like a parasite downs the rotten body. He knows he should be terrified, but instead, he feels a strange sense of relief. Feyd-Rautha can hear the whispers of his own mind fighting to remain the only owners of the secrets and desires buried within. He feels his eyelids heavy; a second later, the whites of his eyes are staring at the ceiling, the blue eye lenses dissolving in light.

Water. The first thing he feels is ice-cold water dripping onto his face, filling his lungs, and sending a shock through his arms. This body does not feel like his; it's too small, too narrow. His eyes are trying to adjust as fast as they can, jumping from one blurred spot to another until finally catching a glimpse of the surroundings. His brain does not have time to process the picture; his nose is filled with fluid again, and his open mouth is gasping for air but only taking in more liquid. He tries waving his hands around, but the stronger grip is firm on his nape, pulling him further down into the depths. The hand yanked him out just as he was about to fall into darkness again, the sound of water changing to loud screeching.

''How dare you hit me, devil child? Let the water wash away your dirt. Repent; beg for forgiveness for all of your rotten nature.''

The voice is unknown to him; it is harsh and filled with fury. The woman's face is twisted in anger; splashes of water on it match his. He can't tell if they are from his antics or tears. The woman's grip tightens, her nails digging into his skin. The black clothes on her figure make her status known - a Bene Gessarit witch. Feyd-Rautha tries to lurch forward and hit her back, but her strength is overwhelming. He feels panic coursing through his veins instead of oxygen—a sensation he did not think he could experience anymore. He wants to bark a response to show her that he is not afraid, but his voice catches in his throat.

Feyd-Rautha has no time to wonder what the woman wants; she brings his face to the bathtub again, and he opens his mouth involuntarily, frantically begging not to do it anymore. He says everything she wants to hear; he cries out and promises to wash his sins away. The voice does not sound like his at all. He is desperate to end this nightmare now, but some force holds him here. The woman is not satisfied; her ears are deaf to his pleas.

His face ends up on the water surface a moment later, his nose hitting the wall of the bathtub as the woman holds him down. He feels his body go limp with utter horror; this time, the shouting woman won't stop. Her voice grows quieter, replaced by the sound of small waves hitting the brim and spilling; from right to left, the water turns red, and his tongue tastes the iron he knows from sliding blades into his mouth.

''Echidna, what the fuck are you doing? Let her go; she is going to choke!''

''Get that spawn to me, for I will not let her ruin my life anymore! I must finish what I have started!''

Feyd-Rautha's head is filled with oxygen once again; his lungs take a desperate breath in, sending too much air to his blood system. He falls on his back, the world spinning. He does not care for the weeping woman in black or the chaos unfolding around him. His only thought is that everything is finally done and that the white floors are a magnificent place for drops of liquid to fall from his normally bald head's waterfall of hair.

He wakes up suddenly, the sensation long gone. His steps are heavy again; the body he inhibits no longer feels like a cage. The voices have left him for now, and the only thing on his forehead left is small drops of sweat and a pathetic, frightened, beating heart. The cold breeze from the darkened sands surrounding the city wishes to prove otherwise—it heavies and plants its spikes into his reddened cheeks. The horizon gleams at him, almost taunting; not a single star is to be seen under the imposing clouds. He will kill her; maybe he will even enjoy it. Feyd-Rautha can handle a lot, but not the shame of being seen. Not the guilt of being caught wanting.

There are only three ways to hunt a mountain lion: tracking, waiting in ambush, and with dogs.

The gliding motions of heavy fabrics across the wooden floors created a strange pattern of a song now centuries old. Here, in a room so long that the wind travelled through the hollows, her careful steps seemed to almost fall silent. Nothing was there for the preying eyes to see. YN closes her eyes; with that, even for a moment, the world stays still. She knows where the hollow staircase will lead her; she feels it in her stomach with every step she takes. YN knows nothing about the future, but the past lives deep in her memories, haunting her every move. She knows she shouldn't have done it. Travelling through one's mind is a sin she can't escape; she will pay the price for it in her blood, but the Bene Gesarit did not send her here to survive, so it's of no use to be afraid now. It makes no difference for the dead if you weep at their grave or not.

The burning sphere of light in the hall stops spinning; the doors open without any noise, although if the pounding eardrums had not stunned her hearing, she could've noticed the faint thuds. YN waits; there are no flashes of her happiest memories or the faces of her loved ones in her drained mind. No, in what seems to be her last moments, she thinks of what she could've been if the world had not given her a sword to turn into.

Feyd-Rautha appears in the hall; his steps aren't rushed, and his expression is stone-cold. She eyes him shamelessly: nothing. She sees nothing; she senses it deep in her crying bones. He drags her by the hair like a mother would with her misbehaving child; roughly, he pulls her towards the exit, his grip tightening with each step until the door behind them closes and her knees meet the cold ground with a nasty thud. The bruises will stain them soon, not that it matters now.

''You should've known better than to cross me,'' he hisses, his voice gruff. It's cold, chilling—the way his lips part to reveal a sinister smile. ''Now, you can think yourself vanished, little witch.''

YN does not answer—what fool would beg the deaf? The blade against her chin is sharp; she knows how attentive he is when it comes to inflicting pain. It pokes right into the Omehyoid muscle, a dull pain shooting through her body. If she has got to die, it may as well be from his skilled arms. How beautiful he is in the twisted pleasure he finds in her suffering. Unearthly, almost too perfect to be made of simple flesh and bone. Something was unnerving, unforgettable in the net of veins under his pearly skin; it was as if he were a work of art, meticulously crafted to bring physical pain and optical pleasure in equal measure. A silver glint under the defined cheekbones, a redness of lips filled with blood vessels. For a second, YN wonders what it would be like to bite into it, like an apple that lay too long under the golden sun; would the blood slip as generously as the sweet nectar? Handsome as poison, as a black sun on his forsaken planet, as death.

''Go on. Kill me, then; let me escape you once and for all.''

Under the deep sea of his eyes, something moved; his eyes dipped into her, part by part. Like the slow, deliberate dance of a predator stalking its prey, his gaze lingered on her, calculating and intense. YN lowered her head to push the knife a little deeper into the flesh. A strange thought lingered in her brain; she found herself on her knees in front of him, almost willingly. She has worshipped God all her life; who, if not her, can recognise his creation? The Devil. Lucifer. Satan. The man with horns so big they once touched the skies; a corrupt angel, fallen from grace so long ago he couldn't remember way back if he tried. They have warned her about him, but is it her fault that God has disowned her earlier than she could? Did it really matter to her, before whom to kneel, as long as she felt a sense of power and control in her submission?

All that mattered now was that he wanted to hurt her. He wanted her.

She sees the recognition flicker on his face. Caught. The blade slides quickly across her exposed neck, the blood sprouting out in a weak, painfully quick stream. Feyd-Rautha kissed her, biting her bottom lip till the stream of boldly coloured blood trickled down his chin. He did so like an animal would, baring his teeth and dragging them across the pulsating vein on her neck. YN's laughing cry echoes in the empty room; she is forced to admit that he felt good.

Never approach a mountain lion; most mountain lions prefer to avoid confrontations, so never approach them and make them feel cornered.

The woman—a siren, some kind of sea beast lurking in deep, salted waters—sits near him with the ottoman under her feet that still seemed to deny her the comfort of rest, her eyes glinting with mischief when she notices his stare. Taunts, even, forge obliviousness to the spells she casts. Strange, otherworldly—redundant. Everything about her, down to the light gown and a headdress that showed little of her face, Feyd-Rautha was not used to seeing. The beautiful substance of her hair caught the light from the sun like a mirage in the desert, reflecting in his eyes with painful hits. The jewels, too, have found their way onto her clothes, but they were hidden beneath the layers of fabric. They shined brightly, impertinently, framing her figure in a glow that seemed to come from within.

To his surprise, the skills woman possessed spread out to politics as well, with her witch training proving useful in court. Feyd-Rautha did not miss how his advisors grew more uneasy when she entered the room, her careful eyes scanning their faces for even a hint of betrayal or deceit. Like a proud discoverer, he ached to share his new-found wonder with the blind audience, but something in him protested in a mare thought of showing the precious jewel of his eye to the cluster of unworthy. So, Feyd-Rautha did the only thing he knew how— all of his secret observations were done from afar, masterfully hidden behind the facade of casual indifference.

As he drags yet another blade across the surface of the whetstone, he thinks about her delicate hands on his neck, her ringed fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. It doesn't matter; YN is nothing of the sort. A concubine, a possession, a tool for pleasure and procreation—the Harkonnen way was simple.

''Are you done eye-fucking me now, or do you need more time with your blade?'' she sneers, her voice mocking. Only she could get away with such bold defiance in his presence, but she does not seem to care for the unusualness of it.

YN motions for him to come closer, her eyes studying the way his legs move. Feyd-Rautha has no control over them; the steps make themselves. She plays the game very well; the chase fuels something primal within him. Thirst. Hunger. It was the Harkonnen training talking to him—the wild, ancient sensation taking over his insides and imprisoning his mind in a cage of helpless desire. It spread its tentacles down to his fingertips, nesting in his abdomen. He positions himself in front of her, his body betraying him as he leans in closer, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Feyd-Rautha's hands repeat the ritual almost instinctively, rolling the hem of her deep purple dress up to her waist.

''Stop for a second,'' she whispers against his ear, her breath warm and inviting. ''Can I give you a piece of advice?''

Feyd-Rautha can feel the anger creeping into his body; he does not like to be refused. ''No,'' he grumbles, turning her around forcefully. "I don't need your advice," he snaps, his grip tightening on her arm.

YN does not seem to care for it. ''Don't do it. It will only lead to trouble.''

''What?'' He stops, his eyes narrowing as he absorbs the woman's words. The doubts that had lingered in the back of his mind suddenly grew louder, echoing through his mind. He releases her arm, his expression stoic. ''You are insane, woman. What are you talking about?''

''You know what I mean.''

The unease boils in his stomach. How could she know? He was careful not to slip anything; she wasn't able to cast her spells anymore either. But her knowing gaze tells him otherwise. ''You can not know the future,'' he pronounces.

''I don't need to know the future to see the truth, Feyd-Rautha. Your judgement is clouded by rage, and your mind is not as sharp as it usually is. You are not as invincible as you think you are.''

She is bluffing, he thinks. He hopes she is. Feyd-Rautha almost wished there was no cloth covering her face, nothing to hide her expressions as she lay beneath him. He catches her flamed eyes and the way they circle his face in one swift motion before settling on the ceiling above. It unnerves him, but he refuses to show it. She is no master here; she is simply a servant. That is not what power looks like, if he ever recognised one, and Feyd-Rautha knew power.

''Get out, now.''

Nothing was portrayed on her face as she curtseyed; nothing was there when she turned and walked to her rooms, leaving nothing but the ghost of the human body's warmth.

Mountain lions are more at home in brushy areas than in open prairies.

And then, he disappeared. Like the sound of the morning birds falling silent in the cacophony of voices of the city on her home planet, there was no trace of na-Baron in the entire Harkonnen fortress. YN thought she was slowly but surely going mad; no one but her noticed the usual place by the window empty, and no one but her seemed to care enough to know where he went. She caught strange looks from a few, and frankly, she thought they were right. She looked like a mad woman, her hair quickly plated and her dress hurriedly laced, her eyes darting around the room in search of any sign of Feyd-Rautha's massive figure. Noon was dragged into the evening, and then night, for three, long days until she heard the long-awaited news: na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had tried to usurp his uncle and had failed.

She has told him so. A fucking brainless ram, with stubbornness bigger than his cock—why did he think he could outsmart the Baron? He will pay for his dumbness with his blood, perhaps even his limb—the thought brought nausea to YN's throat. She was lucky the Baron did not consider her important enough to be knowledgeable of such schemes; she lowered her head in the desert, hiding from the sand storms of Harkonnen politics; she waited for two long weeks until the announcement was made; Feyd-Rautha was forgiven. The celebration in honour of this news is to be today; she is to attend it. Not like his concubine, YN supposed, but more like the princess she still was.

Now, she took her time. YN chose a gown she wanted long enough to make even a tireless slave yawn, savouring each moment before their meeting. She was a victor now, in their small game of cat and mouse. He was a cat, but the mouse could still outwit him with grace and style. YN smiled at the wondering attendants; she looked good, and she was going to meet him.

The walk from her chambers to the Grand Hall wasn't too long; she would've walked a thousand more stairs if it was needed. The doors opened without a sound, revealing nothing but a mere celebration of yet another year under the reign of Harkonnens. The lines of slaves changed one another, the uneven circles of people dancing appearing and fleeing to the cheerful tone of strings. She was set somewhere between two Harkonnen lords she had no chance of knowing; she felt a sense of unease creeping up her spine as she tried to maintain a polite smile. Their gazes didn't look right; something sinister lurked inside them—hiding a secret she had no chance of knowing.

One of them turned to her, a chilling smile spreading across his face. "How are you finding the evening, lady YN? Or, what should I call you?,'' he mastered a fake confusion. ''Perhaps, darling? Concubine has a cheap wing to it; quite unworthy of a face so lovely as yours, don't you think?"

Dirt. The thing that crawled under her skin at his words was like dirt, making her feel unclean and exposed. She forced a laugh, trying to brush off his comments, the crown of her hair moving with muscles underneath her skin. "I am a princess, my Lord. Address me as such."

It would be enough every other noon, but today. The man's face twists, as if he just remembered something; he turns, the wine in his goblet splashing on the tablecloth. ''I think na-Baron wouldn't be too angry if I stole a princess for the night," he sneered, his eyes darkening with malice.

''Does it matter to you either way?''

YN watches as the smirk, so similar to Feyd-Rautha's, appears on the men's lips, although it doesn't feel the same. She fights back disgust as the man nods, biting into a hefty chunk of prey. His eyes, once focused on her, drifted away. YN chose to follow them; the string of fat streaming down the man's mouth onto the silver tablecloth made her nauseous. She looked from one unfamiliar face to another, until the cold feeling in her abdomen crept its way onto her chest.

There he was. His figure is unusually crouching as he sits on the podium reserved for members of the dynasty. The dark blue eyes are red now; the thin blood vessels in them are torn and emptied. His body seemed to suck the light out of the hall inside, casting a shadow over the room. There are no scars on his smooth face, but the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes spoke of a suffering that went beyond physical wounds. YN almost wished she saw him dead; whatever this was, it was surely much worse. He raised his eyes slowly to meet hers; something flickered in them before turning back to their empty state. Feyd-Rautha parts his dry lips to say something to her—she can't understand a word he draws with his breath.

From the place nearby, the Baron's voice booms, his low, almost whisper-like vowels mending into one. His face, covered with layers of skin and dead cells, twists into what was meant to be a welcoming smile—the corners of his paper-thin lips dance, lowering themselves only to jump higher, and his eyes travel from one corner to another, unable to be still even for a moment. He speaks of things YN knows nothing about court intrigue, power struggles, and alliances that shape the fate of their world, heavy with hidden meanings and unspoken threats. She does not listen until he gestures towards her, a scent of spice and decomposing flesh lingering.

''Sergeant Voss has served me well, and his loyalty at the right time is not to be forgotten. Here, I bestow upon him the highest honour of all; what was once mine, is now his. Do not let go of her if she screams, Sergeant; the girl is a fine one.''

No. YN almost does not recognise the hand as her own as the man drags her to the bed that appeared out of nowhere, freezing with horror as the people around her continue to watch in silence, their eyes devoid of any emotion or empathy. The tradition, she notes, is the one she learned so much about bedding in front of the entire court as a symbol of unity. She choked on her own tears as the man smiled at her pleas for help; they seemed to make him even more pleased.

YN looks, frantically, to the place she saw Feyd-Rautha sitting just a moment before. He would help; surely, he would not let them do it to her—his servant, his concubine, his. But the seat is empty. The scream echoing through the hall does not register as hers right away; he has sold her. For his own freedom, for a chance to be free from the consequences of his own stupid actions. Surely, the Harkonnens could not get rid of her openly—it would mean war—but she was not immune to the man who now owned her. His hands travelled her body with such audacity that YN wanted to cut them off—to cut her chest just so she could not feel the fingers digging into her skin. A sole reminder she was a woman first and a human second.

Mountain lions are solitary hunters.

The man undressed himself quickly; all of the soldiers were trained to do so. She should run; she should fight back, but the pair of unmoving hands pinning her wrists down was a stark reminder of her helplessness. The man lowers himself closer, his hot breath against her neck making her shudder in fear. She can feel him against her skirts; she can feel the weight of his body pressing down on her. The adrenaline is pumping through her veins; she will survive. Whatever it fucking takes, even if her body is bruised and broken, she will survive.

They prefer to ambush their prey from behind by swiftly and cleanly breaking the neck.

She bites—her teeth launch towards his cheek, feeling the warm flesh give way beneath her. She sinks them deeper, making holes big enough to draw blood. It's hot, and sickening on her tongue, but she does not have time for these thoughts; her next blow is in his stomach, with his knee jammed into his gut. She can feel his body convulse in pain, giving her a chance to throw him on the bed, his broad back facing her.

If they haven’t broken the neck, they will suffocate the animal.

There is nothing around that could serve as a knife; her captors made sure of that, and the sheets are too thin to wrap around his neck. She looks around the room, desperate for something to use, but the space around her is empty. YN curses as the man regains his composure and begins to struggle against her hold. Her elbow meets his nose with a sickening crunch, causing blood to spurt out. She takes a breath in; her hand wraps around his neck, forming a tight hold as she goes into the headlock. She chokes him, so desperately trying to live. And the man trashes against her grip, his white face turning a deep shade of purple before finally going limp in her arms.

Shame.

A thing that followed her after every life she took is now absent. Maybe the Giedi Prime's cruelty did have its effect on her; YN feels nothing but a sense of emptiness as she stands over the lifeless body.

''Do you have any more men to gift me to, Baron Vladimir? The night is still young.''

Her voice has changed. It holds a certain hiss now, a rasp that wasn't present before; it has matured and bloomed into half an octave deeper tone. It bites through the noise easily, cutting sharply.

The Baron laughs. His eyes gleam with amusement as he gestures towards the door. "Plenty more where that came from, my dear, but it's enough for today. Here,'' he throws something in her, a smirk ghosting on his lips. ''You've earned it.''

YN catches it and inspects the object in her hand. A small, golden broche catches the light, glinting in the dimly lit room. A head of the Bighorn ram stares back at her, the symbol of House Harkonnen. The taste of victory mingled with the metallic tang, leaving a bittersweet sensation in her mouth. Joy courses her veins—she isn't afraid. Finally, she is not afraid. Finally, she can look at her blood-stained hands without humiliation. Is it her fault she was born a better knife than a person?

Bighorn sheep are not a primary food source in most areas. However, when a lion does kill a sheep, they typically will continue to do so over and over again, until the herd is depleted.

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ssweetleaf · 2 years

Text

bigmouth strikes again

♡ pairing- best friend!steve harrington x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

♡ summary- steve doesn’t get jealous. ever. and when eddie ‘the freak’ munson tries to kiss you, he makes it his mission to split you open and show you who you belong to. but it’s totally not because he’s jealous,, definitely not.

♡ includes- SMUT, best friends to lovers, angst, pussy eating cuz it’s my fave, degradation, praise, jealous!steve, rushed bathroom sex, unprotected sex, (please don’t do that, use protection) spanking, shitty ending because you know me,,

♡ a/n- i was totally gonna make this a threesome including eddie, but decided against it :( seriously thinking of writing one of those now,,

Steve wasn’t jealous. Not at all. In fact, zero jealousy was looming inside of his mind even when ‘the freak’ Munson gave you heart eyes, practically pressing himself against you, letting all the prying eyes of the party ogle at the scene— god, Steve hoped that Eddie wouldn’t lean in for a kiss, he was so close, dangerously close and Harrington swore to all hell, he’d pour all of the contents of Eddie’s stupid lunch box down the fucking toilet bowl if he put his mouth on you—

Well, shit. Steve was totally jealous.

But how could he not be? The high school’s designated cult leader was flirting with his best friend! And yeah he wasn’t your boyfriend, but he sure as hell wanted to be, and seeing you all snug against Eddie’s chest, practically grinding against him while some Duran Duran song filtered throughout the house…Oh no, he was going in for the kiss,,

It didn’t take Steve long to be right by your sides, digging his palm into Munson’s shoulder and pushing him back with a surprising amount of force.

Poor King Steve was in deep.

“Get your fuckin’ mouth off her.” He grumbled, standing tall in front of you, shielding your body from his most deadly threat in that moment. Eddie blinked at him in a sort of disbelief, cocking his face to the side with hazy eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry-” he spoke, sarcasm practically dripping from the tip of his tongue, “I didn’t know y/n had a boyfriend.”

Steve stuttered over his speech, shifting from foot to foot and even looking back at you as if to say, can you believe this guy?

“Steve, what’re you doing?” You sighed while frowning up at him, of course he had to ruin a perfectly good interaction with a real pretty guy! You had thought it was time to move on from your stupid little crush on your best friend, and he had to go and fuck it up by inserting himself between you and a potential candidate to get over him. The worst part was, it just made you fall even deeper in love with Harrington than before, and you were really trying.

Steve was your best friend. Steve was your best friend!

“What am I doing?” He was still stuttering, gawking down at you as if you had two heads, and you could see Eddie was getting rather amused, watching the scene unfurl. “Seriously, y/n? I’m trying to get this freak away from you, before he gives you some- some disease!”

“What is your fuckin’ problem, Harrington?” Yeah, Eddie was no longer smirking, in fact he was scowling, pushing at Steve’s chest. All the ruckus was earning a small crowd, various inebriated eyes blinking up at the three of you.

What an embarrassment.

Steve shook his head, wrapping a hand around your wrist, though being careful not to tug too hard, attempting to usher you away, wanting to go somewhere a lot more private. Away from all the prying eyes; away from Eddie fucking Munson.

“Oh, I get it-” Munson smirked, getting all up in Steve’s space, face mere inches from his own and Steve could smell the weed on his clothes, “pretty boy stevie’s in love.”

Oh shit. He was blushing. He wasn’t supposed to be blushing, how the hell did Eddie figure that out?

“Shut up.” He seethed, scoffing at his conclusion, which was completely right actually, but he couldn’t ever let him have the satisfaction. It would ruin him.

“You jealous, Harrington? Is that right?” They were slowly starting to shove each other, harder with each go, but you couldn’t quite concentrate on the scene before you, those words coursing throughout your brain like a fucking mantra.

Pretty boy Stevie’s in love.

God, if it were true. You heart hammered at the thought, gnawing idly at your slick bottom lip — maybe it was time to interject. At the rate they were going, you were sure a fight would break loose, and you were even more sure of it when Steve went in for the punch.

For Christ’s sake!

His fist collided with the skin of Eddie’s cheek, splitting the skin of his knuckles and reddening Munson’s pretty face, the outline of a bruise already blooming.

“Alright, that’s enough!” You pulled at the collar of Steve’s shirt, pulling him back as much as you could— putting as much space between the two of them, enough so that when Eddie swung, his fist punched the air. “What has gotten into you, Steve!”

He shook his head, his knuckles throbbing, but it was worth it, he thought, curling his fingers around your wrist once again.

“Come on, y/n, it’s time to go.” Steve was still seething, but he wanted to get you alone. Fuck, he wanted to show you that you were his and no one else’s, he wanted to find the nearest bathroom and fuck you with his cock, nice ‘n’ deep until you knew who you belonged to, until the only name on your mind was his. Not Eddie’s.

His cock was stirring in his pants, and oddly, the growing welt upon Munson’s face had him throbbing.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry-” you tried to apologise, all while Steve dragged you off, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Steve scoffed, and Eddie called after you, shouting loud enough so you could hear him over the thumping of the current record.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? Sweetheart!

Oh yeah, now Steve was fuming. Tugging you behind him, his strides so large you could barely keep up with him, stumbling after him like a lost puppy.

Countless times you prodded at him, wondering where he was taking you. You could tell how angry he was, steam practically shooting from his ears and there were people staring.

It didn’t take him too long to find an empty room after searching through all of the locked and unfortunately unlocked ones— which mostly consisted of couples that were in the middle of fucking. Not a pretty sight.

“In.” His tone was clipped, brow furrowed and you wanted to smooth his worry lines away with the pads of your thumbs, but you quickly shook the thought away while he locked the door.

You weren’t totally sure what to do. Were you supposed to say something? To be frank, you quite liked the position you were in— the bathroom wasn’t small, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to step away from you, and neither could you, your chests heaving and you watched him sigh and groan.

“I don’t want him touching you like that,” He almost whined, rubbing his face with a palm, “I don’t want anyone touching you like that.”

“I- Steve, you can’t just decide who gets to touch me—”

“Do you seriously not understand what I’m trying to say?” He cut you off. What? Of course you didn’t understand, he was babbling and being rather possessive, and you wanted to punch yourself at how turned on you had gotten because of it.

“Enlighten me, Harrington.”

“You’re mine!” He huffed, “you belong to me, and no one else, especially not that fucking freak.”

You were gawking, cheeks burning and you swore your eyes were about to bulge out of their sockets. You hadn’t even realised he’d pushed you against the counter, trapping you there with a hand on either side of you, and you whined when his arms flexed.

The tension was thick, so thick you could cut it with a knife and his eyes flickered over your lips before he brought a hand to your throat, squeezing just barely. The scenario had gone from zero to a hundred so fast it could’ve given you whiplash and your senses were on a complete overload. The alcohol in your systems had you working at a fast pace, and you knew drunk Steve well enough to know how cocky he’d get.

“You gonna let me show you, sweetheart?” Steve’s lips ghosted over your cheek, breath fanning over the most sensitive parts of your neck and he even left a chaste little kiss to the skin. “Gonna be a good girl and let everyone hear how cock drunk you’re gonna be?”

Steve knew what you liked— all the late nights talking about what other guys did that turned you on, it really came in handy. His filthy words got to you, and you whined a quick yes before leaning in for a kiss. He stopped you however, pushing you back and the hand on your neck moved to your cheeks, squeezing them, making your lips jut into a pout.

“Not so fast, baby,” he cooed, “what’s the magic word?”

The fucking tease.

“Please, Stevie!” You fisted his shirt, whining and crying out already, all you wanted was his kisses.

“Atta girl.”

・✫・゜・。.

Your hips were flush against the counter, and his mouth was pressed hotly against yours, licking into your mouth and sloppily sucking your tongue into his. Steve thought he could’ve came from the pretty sound of your whimpers alone, but he promised himself he’d fuck you nice and dumb, split you open with his cock and have you all drooling and pretty underneath him.

He had to stay focused.

“On the counter, pretty girl,” his speech was muffled against your slick mouth, but you complied, shuffling awkwardly onto the bathroom counter and you only managed to lift yourself onto it with his help. “that’s it.”

He was quick to suck at your neck, mouthing at your pulse point and using his teeth and lips to litter your skin with filthy bruises. You were completely falling apart at the seams, mind buzzing and solely focused on Steve and you were so fucking wet, saturating the cotton that covered your cunt, and probably seeping into the fabric of your jeans.

“Take ‘em off.” You whined, squeezing at his biceps and letting a loud moan tumble from your throat at the sight of his swollen lips. He did as you asked with a smirk on his face, shuffling the denim down your thighs, fumbling to get rid of the shoes you were wearing and kicking them away.

“Such a greedy girl, hm? Fuckin’ dripping for me and I haven’t even gotten to the good part.” Three of his fingers rubbed you through your underwear, using his thumb to press down on your clit, “gonna let everyone know, isn’t that right? Gonna let everyone know how much of a whore you are for your best friend Stevie.”

Oh shit.

You were clenching around nothing, chest heaving because of his filthy mouth and nodding along to everything he said.

“Come on, thighs open-” his breath was getting laboured- impatient, pushing at your thighs and keeping them wide, falling to his knees and tugging your underwear to the side— a crude ripping sound followed suit, but fuck, you didn’t care, not when his pretty face nuzzled in between your thighs, breathing in your scent and fluttering his lashes up at you. He even had the audacity to smirk. “Gonna eat this fuckin’ pussy.”

Steve stuck to his word alright, starting off by mouthing at your thighs and slowly making his way to your folds, bumping his nose against your hidden clit before parting your folds with two fingers.

You were dripping, slick with arousal and all because of him, your clit throbbed and crooned to be in his mouth and you tugged at his hair, whining and batting your lashes.

“Please, Stevie,” his hips bucked at the sound, “m’so wet for you.”

He licked a fat stripe up the length of your pussy, starting at the base of your hole, right up to your clit and he dipped the tip of his tongue inside you, spreading your slick around, getting your clit all wet before suckling it between his lips.

He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations thrumming on your clit and he lapped and suckled, rolling it between his lips. He shook his head from side to side, and you cried out, tugging at his hair and pushing him deeper.

“Good girl,” those vibrations again! “Want you nice ‘n’ loud, d’you think you can do that f’me, honey?”

You babbled out a yes, cheeks already streaming with salty tears, running in long black lines, your lashes wet and thick with mascara— Steve thought you looked completely seraphic, even while your pussy was being devoured by his lips and tongue, even while you looked so fucked out. He couldn’t wait to get his cock inside you.

Full lips occasionally puckered against the inners of your thighs, the hot flesh slick with spit and faint outlines of his teeth before diving straight back to your pussy, lolling his tongue and sloppily thrusting his jaw like a starved man eating the forbidden fruit.

You were already so close, all from mere minutes of your clit being suckled at, but how could anyone blame you when he devoured your cunt like an absolute champ?!

It was as if he had read your mind,,

“Y’gonna cum, pretty girl?” he mumbled against you, crude squelching noises erupting throughout the bathroom and if it weren’t for the constant music thumping around the house, you were sure everyone would’ve been able to hear everything. “Be a good girl and hold it.”

“No-” you whined, sobbing into the air and pulling hard at his hair, guiding him to where you needed him most, practically fucking his face with the speed your hips bucked. “Needa cum, let me cum- I’ve been so good-”

Steve pulled away from your cunt, his palm landing a sharp smack to your thigh and his eyes were so fucking dark. A surge of warmth flooded your already sopping pussy and you couldn’t contain your sobs when he spanked you again.

“Too greedy for your own good-” he muttered, rising from his knees with a little bit of hesitation, he could’ve kneeled there for hours, but he wanted to keep you on your toes, show you who was in charge. “you cum when I tell you to cum, do you understand?”

His hands were on you again, squeezing at your cheeks like before, humiliating you, his cock throbbing just looking at the state of you.

And you fucking loved it.

He didn’t give you time to respond, using a free hand to open his belt buckle and unzip his fly— pushing his jeans and boxers down just enough for his cock to be free from all the confines.

He kissed you- once, twice, three times, then in quick succession, he had your t-shirt bunched around the curve of both breasts, tugging crudely at the band of your bra and thumb swiping over the little bow that lay pride and place between your tits. The weight of your breasts spilled out of the cups, so heavy in his palms and nipples achingly stiff when he rolled his thumbs over each one.

You poor thing, you were getting restless, thighs unable to clench and squeeze together because of his perch between them, resulting in you crooning and begging for him to hurry, to settle himself inside you and satiate the obscene throbbing of your desperately engorged clit.

Your spurring had him take his cock in his hand, and you ogled at how pretty it looked— the tip was your favourite shade of pink, glistening in the flickering light of the lamp, pearly white beads of pre-cum dripped along the sides of his shaft, slicking him up and sinking into the ridges.

So pretty. So mouth-wateringly pretty.

He was big too, surpassing any other guy you had been with before, and you just knew there was gonna be one hell of a stretch.

“Like what you see?” He flashed you a mocking smile. Cocky boy. “you’re practically drooling, messy girl.”

You wanted to quip back at him, or roll your eyes at least, but you couldn’t! Your gaze was glued to his cock, you were fucking gawking and yes, he was right, you were drooling.

“You’re so big.”

Steve’s tugs upon his cock faltered at that, you were whining so pathetically and he thought he was gonna explode. Compose yourself, Harrington, he thought.

“I know, baby, but you can take it, can’t you?” He cooed, “pretty pussy of yours is so wet, bet I’ll just slip right in, ain’t that right?”

His questions were truly rhetorical, and he proved his filthy mouth right when he slipped inside you with little resistance— your gummy walls sucking him in and he could barely move with your vice-like grip.

“Holy shit-” his hips stuttered, pressing his face against your tits so he could gather some composure. He wasn’t gonna last long. “Stop squeezin’ me like that or I’ll fucking cum.”

“Can’t help it, Stevie, I can feel you in my tummy-”

Fuck.

It took him a couple minutes, just standing there, balls-deep in your slick cunt before he started to thrust his hips. And once he had a rhythm going, he was relentless, fucking up into you nice and deep, just like he’d promised you before— his pace so fast, your fuzzy mind couldn’t quite comprehend it and you drooled at how deep he was, already nudging your special spot and making you writhe.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t answer, dumb from the deep thrusts of that perfect cock of his.

“So cockdrunk you can’t even use your words,” he moaned loud into the stuffy air, “fuck, imagine if Munson saw us. Saw you sat on your best friend’s cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded, squealing and whining, so pathetic and pretty and a part of you wanted Eddie to see you- or anyone for that matter, so everyone would know that you belonged to your best friend Steve Harrington: one of the most sought after boys in Hawkins.

“Christ- didn’t know you were such a— oh fuck- such a whore.”

You were close, and you made that apparent— with the constant pounding of his cock and the bumping of his pelvis upon your puffy clit had you near to cumming, you hoped he’d let you cum this time, leaning in for a kiss that was entirely tongue and teeth, his lips still sticky with your arousal and you quivered around him.

“Gonna- gonna cum! Needa cum so bad-” he did too, you could feel it, he was groaning, whining, clinging onto your thighs and pumping erratically into you— he was throbbing hotly, and the thought of his cum inside you, all deep and stuffed full to the brim- holy shit!

“Me too- fuck, baby-” he clung to you, kissing any space upon you that was closest, “go on, cum with me. Be a good girl now-”

A flurry of stars and twinkly lights fluttered around the room and Stevie was a complete blur, but still managed to be oh so pretty. You were so full of his cum, warm throughout, and your hole quivered and your clit thumped with the bliss of cumming finally. Expletives fell from his lips, and yours too, feeling sated and breathless, but not entirely settled because of the spasms that racked your limp body.

Steve stood shakily between your still-parted thighs, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck with a thumb grazing your warm cheek.

He couldn’t pull himself out of you yet, too fucked out to put his softening cock back into his jeans.

It was silent between you both, apart from your laboured breaths.

“Y’know-” you managed to croak out, voice horse from the constant squealing and whining of SteveSteveSteve- and you raked a hand through his messy hair, “you were totally jealous.”

“I was not jealous.”

“You so were!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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