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ghost-1-y · 7 months

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Sacrifice

Surtr!Kyojuro x AFAB!Worshipper!Reader

Content Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, masturbation (Kyo), getting caught masturbating (Kyo), knotting, Kyojuro is in heat, Kyo has a massive breeding kink, lactation kink (Kyo loves your titties), size kink, pregnancy kink, pregnancy (at the end), using horns as handles, implied belly bulging, mommy kink (reader referred to as both “mommy” and “mother”), love confessions at the very end, douma being an asshole, incorrect interpretation of norse mythology, reader is given as a human sacrifice to Kyo, mentions of animal sacrifice, reader referred to as “pretty girl” sometimes, please lmk if I missed anything!

Summary: The legends stated that the mighty fire giant would one day bring about the beginnings of Ragnarok and engulf the world in flames. You had been told of these prophecies since childhood and were a firm believer in appeasing the proclaimed Ruler of Fire through worship and sacrifice – just as you had been taught by the village elders since you were a mere child. What you didn’t expect, however, was for the village to turn their back on you and suggest that what would be needed would be a human sacrifice to appease the giant once and for all.

Word Count: ~6k

Divider Credit: @/benkeibear

A/N: So sorry this took so long!! I've had a mess of a week so far. I hope the fic is worth the wait! Apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors (I tried my best).

A fire blazed in the heart of the village, crackling with embers floating gracefully and smoke ebbing above the tallest of houses – its heat a sharp contrast to the bitter cold of the autumn night. Members of the village surrounded the bonfire, sitting with their families as they feasted, bellies full with the meat stew that was provided for them. A single bowl was left untouched amongst each family – a welcoming invitation for the dead to engage in the festivities that were part of Vetrnætr.

As chieftain, you engaged with the families, wishing them good health and happiness as they did the same for you, before engaging in sumbel with them as you poured wine onto the grass below.

“Freyr will be most pleased by your worship.”

In a way of parting from families, you’d praise their good faith before moving on to the next family. The smiles were abundant amongst the villagers, and, once you’d made your way fully around the bonfire, you removed your sword from your scabbard and raised it high into the air.

“Today we celebrate, and are thankful to the god Freyr for a wonderful harvest. Please join me in this sacrifice, in order to show our thanks to the deities of all the Nine Realms.”

However, before you could commit to the sacrifice – the poor lamb that was before you – a cold hand gripped at your shoulder, which made you turn in confusion.

“Perhaps I should tell you, before you engage in such an act, that the priest has some… concerns,” the man – Enmu you believed his name was – whispered. You sighed and sheathed your sword once more, your blood beginning to boil as you’d wondered what he could possibly want in the middle of the village’s celebration.

You trudged your way through the temple that resided on the outskirts of the village. The door creaked open as you walked through, and before you sat the village priest, who sat on a cushion made of feathers and animal skin. He upturned his lips upon seeing you, yet it wasn’t a true smile.

You knew he didn’t know how to, after all.

“Ah! My lovely Chieftain,” Douma drawled, “such a beautiful night to celebrate Vetrnætr, isn’t it? Although, I doubt that Freyr will grant you the beauty or fertility needed to continue your lineage this upcoming year, truly a shame,” he said, faking a pout.

You fought the urge to ball your fists. The village elders, and, apparently now the village priest as well, had been pressing you for a child – particularly a son – however, despite many suitors attempting to lay their claim to the throne, and therefore you, none had been successful.

Despite this jab, you maintained composure, “what do you need from me, Douma? You’ve interrupted the sacrifice.” You stared him down, and he forced a small laugh.

“Oh my, a harsh tongue doesn’t suit you, dear Chief” he sneered, “You see, I have become aware of some rather concerning events – ones surrounding Ragnarök in particular,” he paused, observing you for any kind of reaction, “unfortunately, it seems Surtr has traveled from Muspelheim to Midgard.”

Your eyes widened, “how would he be able to do such a thing? He isn’t a deity–”

“–ah, but he is a jötunn, and therefore would have the ability to travel between the realms,” Douma countered, “did you never pay attention to my lessons during your youth?”

You rolled your eyes, “you speak as though we do not dedicate sacrifices to him with each solstice. You know appeasing his anger is one of my most steadfast beliefs.”

Douma hummed, “well, it appears that you did not follow through with this past solstice, my dear Chieftain – rather dedicating it to Freyr than to Surtr – and, to be completely honest, I am quite disappointed in that fact.”

The door shut behind you, and two warriors stood on either side of you. You grabbed the hilt of your sword, sensing distrust in the air.

“Do you know, Chieftain, what would be required to adequately appease the Ruler of Fire?”

You pulled out your sword and swung at the warrior on your right, an attack which was quickly blocked by his own weapon. You landed a kick to the left one’s stomach, only for it to be trapped in an unwavering grip by the warrior’s arms. You attempted to swing your sword at him in retaliation, only for your arm to also be grabbed by the one on your right.

Douma stood up and walked towards you, gripping your chin – the cold of his skin causing you to wince.

“A proper, human sacrifice.”

A blow landed to the back of your neck, and your vision faded to black.

—

You awoke to a chill that laid upon your skin, feeling as though you were made of ice rather than of flesh. You were completely bare, lying on a wooden floor of what you presumed to be the priest’s sacred temple, as your vision was fully obstructed by a cloth which wrapped around your eyes. Upon moving your arms – which were thankfully in front of you and not behind, you noticed that your wrists were also bound by rope to prevent you from making any potential escape from Douma’s clutches.

Outside, you heard footsteps approaching, and the door swung open – causing you to flinch at the loud creak that sounded from it. A rough hand grabbed at your arm and pulled you up to your feet, forcing you outside where you heard murmurs of villagers on either side of you. Your cheeks flushed deep with embarrassment, the idea of your beloved villagers seeing you in such a state bringing tears to your eyes in pure shame.

“All of you, please say your final goodbyes to our beloved Chieftain – for she has volunteered to become the sacrifice that will appease Surtr and end his threats of Ragnarök!”

You couldn’t hear the cheers of your people over your pulse pounding in your ears, completely helpless as you were all but dragged along the dirt and gravel pathway before being placed on a horse. A faint rustling could be heard before you felt a rope tied around your neck.

“Be careful not to fall off, my dear Chieftain, lest your neck snap as you’re dragged along the rugged terrain by your horse,” Douma whispered to you before saddling himself onto a separate horse, and you could only assume that this rope was also tied to the horse in some way, thus forcing you to go wherever Douma led you.

You begrudgingly held tight against the horse’s mane as it went into a trot, the wind blowing harshly against your naked skin as the voices of the villagers slowly faded away, replaced by the clopping of hooves as you traversed to a place unfamiliar.

The horses did not stop, and you could only tell the passage of time as the cool of night gave way to the blazing heat of the sun that seared itself into your back. Hours must have passed, and your muscles grew sore the longer you traveled.

At some point, the horses slowed, and the sun’s heat was obstructed by a shadow which loomed above you. Again, a faint rustling could be heard before you were taking off of the horse’s back – yet the rope stayed wrapped around your neck, yet it was no longer taut if you tried pulling away from the horse’s body. You were dragged into the cool shadow, before a hand gripped at your hair.

“Such a shame you never produced a son,” Douma muttered into your ear, “you wouldn’t have to die if you were nice and fertile, my dear Chieftain.”

You could only imagine the nasty grin on his face as he pushed you forward, causing you to lose your footing and fall what could’ve been roughly two meters before hitting solid rock. You heard laughter above you before it started to fade away.

Luckily, the fall seemed to loosen the cloth which covered your eyes, allowing you to see out of one of them, yet you doubted it would be of much help as you got your bearings and realized that you were indeed alone in a dark cave, being left to starve and rot as a form of sacrifice to Surtr.

You decided, that if you were going to die anyway, that you’d at least explore the cave you were pushed into.

It was dark, yet not damp, the stone beneath you as dry as the walls that surrounded you, and you wondered if the sun somehow reached its way into the depths of this cave to evaporate the moisture. There was no life, not a single lizard or insect to be seen – although a few animal bones would be strewn about here and there as you continued your descent further into the cave.

You traversed further, being careful to not trip over any rocks or pitfalls. After what seemed to be an hour of exploration, you saw the tiniest spark of light in the distance.

Perhaps a way out? You thought, and walked closer to this flickering light, and the rather narrow tunnel you were in gave way to a large cavern – with a large bonfire in the middle, one much larger than the one in your village during the celebration of Vetrnætr.

Unlike the blazing heat of the sun from earlier, the warmth of the bonfire was comforting, with its orange hue flickering along the walls of the cavern.

As you got closer, you heard the slightest shifting from the other side of the cavern, followed by what could only be described as a low growl. You froze, unsure of how to proceed in front of a potential predator with nothing to defend yourself with. You slowly crouched and walked towards the bonfire, and, despite your hands being tied, managed to pick up one of the smaller logs on the outer ring of the fire before dousing the tip of it in flames – a weapon, should you need to use it.

As you slowly walked around the bonfire, you found a rather peculiar sight – realizing that the growl did not come from the likes of an animal.

But who– or what was before you was certainly not human.

The being before you was huge, possibly even a jötunn. You were never one to doubt your beliefs, but the idea that a creature from another realm was before your very eyes was difficult to swallow. However, from what you could remember from your religious texts, a jötunn is the only creature you could bring yourself to categorize it as.

The creature had large, curved horns that were sizable in their girth, and its tusks – not fangs – emerged up from its lower jaw. What’s more, it had pointed ears on either side of its head which emerged through hair resembling that of fire, locks that matched the finest gold and ruby gemstones that would cost a fortune in your village.

Unlike the face, its body looked quite human – although its very naked form boasted large, dense muscles throughout its entire body, and a cock that made you swallow absentmindedly from just how threatening its size was.

The creature was stroking its girth, thumbing itself over the leaking slit – a slight shudder escaping from its throat. It started to fuck itself into its grip, thrusting quickly as though chasing its release. Its other hand was fondling its balls – which looked heavy and full of seed, before having its hand move slightly upward towards the slightly swollen base of its cock, softly massaging it to seemingly ease the tension it caused.

Fully flushed with embarrassment, you backed away from the creature before you, each step seemingly calculated in order to escape this situation.

Is the creature sentient? It seems to be humanoid– does that mean it can think like a human? What if it’s a predator and kills me?

Thoughts rushed through your mind, seemingly going into a frenzy as you worried about potential outcomes of this situation.

Crack!

In your panic, you managed to step on a stray twig that managed to stray from the center of the bonfire.

The creature stopped its movements, and immediately turned its head to the source of the sound.

Its amber and crimson eyes opened and glared into yours.

“F-Fuck—!”

With one glance over your naked form, the creature before you released its seed, spilling it all over its fist and shaft, with the remaining drops dribbling onto its lower abdomen. It continued to slowly rub its fist up and down its length, closing its eyes as it played with its tip up until the last of its cum dribbled out from the slit, before tensing and looking back at you, eyes widening in shock – as though it couldn’t believe you were actually there.

“I’m sorry!” the creature exclaimed, a blush so red blooming across its cheeks that it seemingly felt the same amount of embarrassment as you. It hastily wiped itself clean on the furred animal skin it was laying upon. “I– I can explain, really– just– who are you? Why are you here?”

You were in shock, so much so that you couldn’t even eke out a full sentence. Your eyes drifted down to its cock once more, which – much to your surprise – was still standing incredibly tall and proud as it curved up towards the creature’s stomach. Heat prickled across your cheeks and down your chest as the fiery-haired being used its hands to cover itself up in front of you – sensing that you might be uncomfortable from bearing witness to such an event.

This is ridiculous, you thought, you are the Chieftain of your village – compose yourself!

“I am Y/N, leader of my village and child of a family of famed warriors,” you introduced yourself.

The creature raised an eyebrow to you in response.

“And what exactly brings a village leader into my cave?”

You hesitated, humiliation flooding your veins even more so than before.

“I– I was overthrown by the village priest and have been made a sacrifice to Surtr, the Ruler of Fire.”

You expected laughter from the jötunn before you, closing your eyes to hide whatever dignity you had left from what Douma stripped from you. However, instead of hearing a cacophony of hearty noises from the creature’s throat, you instead heard the thud of footsteps approaching you.

Slowly, the jötunn reached forward and removed the bandages which obstructed your vision, loosening and pulling them away with his large fingers, careful to not touch you unnecessarily in the process.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at the giant, his eyes surprisingly kind as he looked down at you. He bunched the bandages in his hands before tossing them to the side, then continued untie the ropes that were digging into your wrists and cast them aside as well.

“If what you say is true, please inform your village that I do not take human sacrifices.”

Your heart seemed to have traveled up to your throat, its beats both fast and fluttery.

“That would imply that I could go back– wait, what are you talking about?”

Then, the creature did finally let out a laugh – a small chuckle that rose from his chest and was deep and bassy as it rose through his throat.

“My dear human, I am the one you people refer to as Surtr.”

You stopped, instinctively stepping back – away from the creature that just claimed to be the harbinger of destruction – the one to bring flames that will engulf all nine realms and Yggdrasil itself.

You did what you believed best, and forced your body to the rocky floor of the cave, bowing in absolute submission and respect for such a being – nearly cowering in the presence of such raw power presented before you.

“Stand up, please, there’s no need for that here.”

You looked up at the being before you, rather confused by his words.

He sighed, “you humans have beliefs of me that are so far from the truth, it’s saddening.”

A pause, the only sound in the cavern being the crackling of the wood against flames.

“My real name is Kyojuro, the name ‘Surtr’ is a title bestowed upon me that I did not wish to receive. I am not going to harm you or your village, I do not wish for such evil. Whatever “priest” thought that a human sacrifice would appease this nonexistent will of mine is, to put simply, a fool.”

You let out a shaky breath, and he reached out his hand – one that dwarfed your own – toward you.

“Stand up.”

He was smiling as you took his hand, with a gaze that was comforting and kind as he sent sparks through your skin with his touch.

The prickling heat returned to your cheeks.

“I’ll help you get back to your village,” he promised.

You froze, your heartbeat quickening once more as you registered his words.

“I can’t– please, I can’t go back, not after what they did to me,” you started, preparing yourself to beg and plead this god-like creature for mercy.

Kyojuro frowned, “I understand, but I can’t keep you here. You need to leave, I– I can’t have you stay.”

You knew it was selfish, to leave your people in the hands of Douma, but after what he did to you– after how he humiliated you.

Where the fire in your village was scalding, his was warm. Where those treated you with indifference or malice, he had been nothing but kind.

Was it really worth going back?

“I’d like to stay,” you decided.

Kyojuro stopped, each and every second becoming more and more difficult for the jötunn. Every passing moment he ignored his very obvious problem, he became this much closer to just bending you over and taking you like a wild animal. His blood was hot in his veins, and fire licked at his lower abdomen, pleasure bubbling once more to the surface as he continued to endure his heat.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, human,” he warned. He was using every ounce of his willpower in order to maintain his composure. His heat was going to near its peak soon, and he needed you away from him before that happened. He came to Midgard to weather it alone in his cave, and you were only making it all the more difficult.

“Kyojuro,” you uttered softly, and the creature before you let out a low growl, “will you let me stay if I…help?”

His cock twitched, precum dribbling slowly out of the tip, with the base of it swelling up once more.

“I don’t want you to try and sell yourself to me as though you’re a piece of meat. I–” he swallowed, “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t allow you to do that.”

“Kyojuro, I want to help you. I want this,” you assured, and he balled his hands into fists, as though the rope holding him together was about to snap.

“Y/N–” he warned, and you rolled your eyes.

“Please, fuck me, Kyojuro.”

The jötunn grabbed your arm, “if– if we are to do this, you must know that I am in heat, and I–” he swallowed, “I may not be able to control myself should we continue.”

You took your hand and brushed your fingers across his tightened grip, causing slight shivers to flow down his spine.

“Lose control, Kyojuro, I can take it.”

He groaned, and with his strength, picked you up and collided his lips with yours. Your hands sought either side of his face, kissing back with fervor as he moaned into your mouth. His tusks surprisingly didn’t obstruct your access to his mouth, and every once in a while he’d nip at your bottom lip, before laving his tongue over the swollen skin and pushing it into your mouth. You let out a small moan at the intrusion, and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers finding purchase in his wild, fiery hair.

His grip on your body moved from your hips back towards your ass, cupping and massaging the muscle with his hands. His cock was stiff against your inner thigh, the precum spreading along your skin with each small movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as his cock slipped between your legs and along your slit – the sheer girth of it a little worrisome as it pressed against your heat.

“Shit– so big, Kyojuro, hah–” you panted, and he growled.

“Never had cock this big before, have you? Don’t worry, dear, I’ll get you nice and ready to take me.”

He shifted your weight onto one of his arms, the muscles flexing as he shifted his other hand beneath you. Two of his fingers started rubbing along your clit, making small circular motions as his other hand groped at the fat of your ass. He lifted you up a little more so his mouth was in line with your breasts and pursed his lips around one of your perked up tits, sucking at it and licking broad stripes with his tongue. He groaned around your tit as he played with your pussy, reveling in how wet you were for him already. The mini vibrations sent electricity down your spine, and you moved your head to rest on his broad shoulder, giving small kisses to his neck as you whined from his ministrations.

“Lips feel so good, dear, love it when you kiss me like that,” he sighed, giving kisses to each of your breasts, “want to apologize for my earlier…release, you were just so beautiful…seeing you all naked ‘n presenting for me like that…made me want to breed you, pretty girl,” Kyojuro confessed, causing you to shiver as he softly whispered such filthy thoughts into your ear.

“Mmh– don’t apologize, Kyo– liked watchin’ you,” you admitted, and he let out a light chuckle, which made you lightly slap his rocky chest. He responded by giving a small bite to your breast, before licking it better with his skilled tongue.

“Yeah? You like the idea of me wanting to breed you? Getting you pregnant with my young?” he asked, his fingers moving from your clit down towards your entrance, where he inserted a single thick digit into your heat. You whined as your pussy clenched around the intrusion, and nodded in response, licking a stripe up his neck before kissing back down it again.

His finger thrust into you, curling against that one sensitive area inside of you as his thumb reached for and played with your clit. The moans that you let out echoed throughout the cavern, with the only other sounds being the shlick of Kyojuro’s finger deep in your cunt and the crackling of flames. After a while, he added a second digit, and slowly but surely worked you towards your peak, the tension slowly building up in your gut.

With one last swipe against your clit with his thumb, you came undone, your orgasm causing you to shudder and whine in his hold as he worked you through it, curling his fingers and rubbing your clit as you rode out each wave.

“Kyo–” you moaned, trying to grind your hips down on his fingers, and he smiled before meeting your lips in a heated kiss. He continued thrusting his fingers up into your now weeping cunt, prepping you nice and good to take his much thicker cock.

He walked back toward his makeshift bed – a pile of furs and animal skins which he must’ve collected prior to his heat – and gently placed you down on top of them. His large hands moved down your thighs, rubbing softly up and down your plush skin as he stared at the slick between your legs. He lowered himself between your thighs and inhaled deeply as he tried desperately to memorize your scent. He licked a stripe up your slit, causing you to jolt at the sensation, and moaned as your taste spread over his tongue like honey.

You squirmed underneath his touch, which made him hold your hips in place as he started to devour you. His tongue flicked over your clit before collecting more of your juices on his tongue. Your hands found his horns and gripped them tightly, pushing his head further between your thighs, earning a groan from Kyojuro. He pursed his lips and sucked at your clit before licking at it in circular motions, moving his hand between your legs again and pushing two digits inside your cunt once more, thrusting in and out of your hole with his fingers. After adding a third finger, he started curling his fingers into that one spot again, his movements quick and deft as he brought you to your second orgasm.

You moaned loudly as you came undone, legs shaking as your grip on his horns tightened, trying your best to buck your hips up into his face as he lapped up all of the juices that seeped out of your pussy. Only when you were able to open your eyes once more did you look down to see Kyojuro humping himself onto the fur pelts as he messily gathered the rest of your release onto his tongue.

“Kyo– please, I need you,” you whined, and he looked up at you with a fire ignited in his eyes. He got up, stroking his thick cock as he looked down upon your much smaller form.

“Get on all fours for me.”

Without hesitation, you rolled over and got on your hands and knees. Kyojuro kneeled behind you and placed his cock in between your wet folds, rubbing the tip up and down as his precum mixed with your juices. He shuddered before slowly pushing the head inside, causing you to tense slightly from how big the intrusion was.

“Relax for me, won’t you?” he asked softly.

You tried your best to relax, and he started to push more of his length inside of you, filling you up more than you ever thought possible. For a moment, he stayed like that, relishing in the feeling of your cunt tightly wrapped around his throbbing cock, his hips flush against your ass as you whined for him to move, please.

“Let me have this moment, dear, I– I haven’t felt something this wonderful in centuries,” he confessed, and you let out a soft mewl before complying with what he wanted.

After a few more moments, his cock dragged out of you slowly before thrusting back in. He rocked into you, slowly at first, which was most likely for the better considering how huge he was. He growled as he thrust into you, his heavy balls slapping against your clit as he reached underneath you to hold your stomach, pressing up slightly as he fully fucked his cock into you.

“Shit– you feel that, pretty girl? Feel my cock deep inside you?” he groaned, and you nodded helplessly, letting out a whine as he continued his movements. “Feel so good wrapped around me, so fuckin’ tight f’ me.”

You choked out another moan as he started increasing his speed, his groans becoming more frequent with each thrust. Kyojuro took his hand and gently tilted your chin up so you could look at him.

“Won’t last much longer, pretty girl,” he leaned down and kissed you, “gonna pull out, promise.”

You whined, “no– please, need your cum, Kyo– need it inside.”

He moaned loudly, “you have no idea what you’re asking of me, pretty. You’d end up taking my knot–”

“I want your knot, Kyo! Please give it to me–!”

Kyojuro thrust even harder into your sopping cunt upon hearing that, “fuck, you want my knot? I’ll get you fucking pregnant, fill you up with my young ‘n get your belly all swollen, you sure you want that?”

“Yes! Please Kyo–! Please–”

With a couple last thrusts, Kyojuro shot his seed inside of you, thick ropes painting your insides white and filling you up to the brim. You moaned as you felt the warmth spread deep inside of your cunt, and, before his release could begin to seep out of your pussy, a burning stretch began inside your abused hole. Realizing this is what Kyojuro meant by his knot, you tried to look behind you to catch sight of his cock seemingly expanding inside of your pussy, keeping his cum nicely plugged inside of you.

Kyojuro was panting, his voice rough as he pulled you up onto his lap.

“Good fuckin’ girl, taking my knot so well.” He looked down at your chest as you sat in his lap, his cock still rock hard and throbbing inside your wet cunt.

“Can’t wait to see these breasts filled with milk, gonna be such a good mommy, aren’t you?” he said before taking one of your tits in his mouth and sucking at it, as though he were trying to get you to produce milk already for him, and eventually his young, to feed on.

“Kyo, I– I’m sorry, but I’m not fertile, I– I’ve never been able to produce an heir with another man,” you sighed, and his eyes looked up to meet yours. “I’m really sorry, it’s why I was thrown down here in the first place” you continued, hoping your words wouldn’t anger him.

Instead of becoming angry, he simply placed you back down on the fur pelts and brought your legs up towards your shoulders so that you were folded completely in half. He then crouched over you, keeping you locked in a mating press with him.

“I’m no simple man, my dear human,” he kissed your lips, “if I say I will breed you and fill you with my young–” he paused, thrusting deeply into your cunt.

“–I mean every single word.”

Kyojuro started fucking into you with renewed fervor, his stamina seemingly having increased despite already releasing inside of you once. His cock reached deeper inside of you, and you could swear you felt him all the way in your throat. Every single thrust of his hips had you a whining mess, taking his knot until your pussy molded into the shape of his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, take it all,” he groaned before pressing his mouth to yours once more. His tongue plunged past your lips – prompting you to suck on it, causing him to fall over the edge again, his hips stilling as he pumped a second load of cum into your needy cunt. You whined as he didn’t stop – continuing to fuck into your abused cunt despite cumming twice, his cock still stiff and leaking with every thrust. You felt his seed sloshing around in your womb, feeling so incredibly full by both his cum and his fat cock.

“Mine,” he growled while pumping himself into you, “you’re fucking mine.”

You could only nod and whine in response, having been completely fucked dumb by his cock.

“Pregnant.” He pummeled his cock deep into your cunt, “getting you pregnant. Fuck. Gonna have a round belly filled with my young, tits swelling with milk, I’ll keep you here – gonna be the mother to my children, gonna treat mommy so well, hunt for you, protect you, everything you could ever want.”

You moaned, your cunt clenching around his cock upon listening to his promises.

“Wan’ it,” you managed, “wan’ to be a good mommy so– fuck– so bad.”

Kyojuro groaned, his cock twitching inside of you as it swelled even more. “Can’t stop thinking of my young suckling on your breasts, tits producing so much milk that all of them have their fill– shit, gonna cum again, gonna fill you up– fuck!”

He spilled into you once more, filling your cunt up completely with his seed, ensuring that it takes, making good on his promise. His fingers flicked at your clit and your own orgasm came crashing down around you, pure euphoria flowing through your veins as you let out a silent scream from the seemingly endless waves of pleasure addling your mind.

Kyojuro rolled over and had you collapse on top of him, his arms reaching around your torso and holding you close.

“Did you mean what you said? About wanting to stay?” he whispered, slight insecurity being carried through his tone.

You gave him a quick peck to his lips, “yes, Kyojuro, you– you’ve been so kind to me, much more than anyone else in that damned village. I’d love to stay with you.”

He smiled softly at you, his eyes glowing with warmth as he cradled your head into his neck, petting at your hair as the two of you fell asleep next to the flickering bonfire.

—

A few months had passed, and you were waiting for your lover to return from his hunt. He had promised a large meal today, and you were excited to see what he had planned for the two of you.

You rubbed your baby bump as you cozied up next to the fire, resting in a heap of animal furs which acted as bedding for the two of you. You were surprised to find out that you were pregnant, but Kyojuro had sensed it about a month after you two had first met, and proceeded to treat you as though every step you took turned the rocks beneath your feet into gold.

The bump was rather large for only being a few months in, and your breasts were already swelling and leaking with milk, but Kyojuro had told you that it was normal – considering that his young would be half-jötunn. He quelled your fears of labor, saying that he would help you in every way that he possibly could when it came time to have the baby.

After a few hours, Kyojuro came back to the cavern, carrying your meal over his shoulder.

“How is my love doing?” he asked with the biggest smile on his face, causing you to giggle as you attempted to get up to greet him. Kyojuro rushed over to you, ensuring that you don’t so much as lift a finger while carrying his young. He leaned down and gave you a soft kiss before dragging your meal to the bonfire and beginning to cook it.

“Mmh– Kyo? Could you help me a little bit, my tits feel so swollen,” you pouted, and his ears damn near perked up at your words.

“Oh? Does mommy need some relief?” he asked teasingly, and you nodded. Kyojuro walked over to you and knelt down, his hands reaching to massage your breasts slowly. He kneaded them and licked at the milk which dribbled out, letting it coat over his tongue. His lips wrapped around one of your tits, and he sucked slowly, moaning as he drank from you. You whined when he moved to the other tit and performed the same actions, relief sinking in the more he suckled the milk out of you.

“Taste so good, pretty girl,” he whispered before getting up again to cook the meat he brought in.

You pouted again, “need you, Kyo, please,” and he laughed.

“You can have me after we eat, does that sound okay?” he compromised, and you sighed but nodded in agreement.

You laid back and rested upon the pile of furs, smiling in contentment as you looked at the two meals that were set out before you.

“I love you, Kyo,” you admitted, unashamed by your feelings as they echoed throughout the cavern.

Kyojuro froze, glancing back at you briefly before continuing to prepare the food, trying his best to hide the blush that traveled across his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

“I love you, too, my little flame.”

Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @kyojurismo, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701

If your name is crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you! Apologies for the inconvenience.

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igotanidea · 5 months

Text

Family rules: Damian Wayne x reader

Christmas bingo day 23 : midnight kiss

The first time she truly understood the meaning of the proverb heart over mind was on a school trip in September.

He was just standing by the wall, doing nothing except staring into space with those piercing green eyes.

Such pretty eyes

Such devilish, snake eyes.

Acting like he was who knows who.

Arrogant, cold, keeping his distant, rough, self-absorbed, not caring about anything or anyone.

Just like his father.

Damian Wayne.

***

Y/N had the misfortune of being born into a technological company family. Obviously she didn’t know it when she was a kid, but the word Wayne was inflected in her home on all occasions.

Wayne this, Wayne that...

sort of spell or- more likely - a curse.

Damn it!

She was 12 when she gathered enough courage to ask her father what this was about. A mistake she only made once, cause even the mention of the Bruce Wayne and his famous, profitable company made her father see red.

That's how she found about the on-going competition between her father and Damian's one.

Obviously it was not like she was excluded from family rules and allowed to live in a bubble. Y/N was supposed to hate the entire Wayne family, the progenitor, his adopted kids and everyone who even came close to them. The only blood son included.

The only problem?

Said blood son was attending the same school, the same class as Y/N was. Which meant a lot of time spend together.

And you just command a teenager to do something and hope they'll listen. It's pretty much impossible, if not foolish belief.

***

In her defence - she tried.

She really tried to hate Damian.

But for five years, his name has been coming to her from every way on every occasion.

Wayne this, Wayne that.

Damn it!!

She could tear her hair out in utter desperation. How was she supposed to not think about him when all the world seemed to be dead set to remind her of his existence.

Of his stupid, unnecessary existence.

With his stupid, idiotic smile and his ridiculous handsome face and infuriating behaviour and the tendency to just be mean all the fucking time.

The internal fight between what she felt and how she acted made her clench her fist and grit her teeth every time Damian came into her view. The little bastard has been doing it on purpose just to see her flustered and enraged. It was like he was trying this best to show his superiority and just rub it into her face.

„L/N.”

„The hell you want Wayne?”

„Will you be attending this year’s New Year's Eve?”

„Will I what now?” she raised her gaze, unable to hide the confusion.

„want me to spell it out for you or something”?”

„Hm.” she muttered „I had no idea you knew how to do that Wayne.”

„I;m only telling you because I know you have problems with reading.”

„Clearly you have a problem with understanding simple things.”

„What I understand is that your father was left out when the invitations were being send. Are you finally going bankrupt”

„You little piece of-!” before she could stop herself her palm met with his cheek with a loud slap.

Shit.

He got exactly what he wanted. Provoked her and got the awaited reaction. She exposed herself, cause acting so dramatically only proved her contradictory, violent emotions he evoked in her.

„Nice one. Didn’t think you had it in you.” he wiped the little drop of blood she drew with her nails.

„Trust me I had it in me ever since you invaded the class.”

„I’ll let you make it even when you invade Wayne Manor for the party.”

„Though you said my family wasn’t invited?”

„It’s a charitable thing to open the door for the poor. I’ll see to it personally.”

„Such a generosity on your part, Mr. Wayne.” she rolled her eyes. „You can take your fake bounty and shove it up-”

„I can’t wait till you meet Todd. You two have so much in common.”

„Your older brother? Yeah, from what I heard you two have quite a rocky relationship. Maybe we’ll gang up on you.”

„Can’t wait.” Damian laughed dryly and with a mischievious glint in his eyes walked away not bothering to say another word.

***

„I;m not going.”

„You;re going.”

„I am so not going!”

„You don’t have a say in the matter!”

„Last year you said that new year’s party is not a place for kids!”

„You’re not a kid!”

„I’m 17! I;m a kid!”

„You ran away from home few months ago. You’re not a kid. You’re going. End of discussion.”

„If I’m not a kid then how come I can’t make a decision on this?” she smiled at her father with absolutely innocent eyes, pointing out all the holes in his logic.

Well-

He didn’t take her defiance in a good way.

Almost dragging her to the wayne manor, but dragging nevertheless.

***

Vomiting.

That’s how she felt entering the place,

Running away.

That’s how she felt walking up the steps and being thrown to the sharks when all the gazes landed on her and her father.

Hiding.

That’s how she felt when the gravity of being judged only based on her clothes and outlook sunk in.

Instead Y/N was forced to fake a smile, dance and do the rounds pretending to have fun.

All for the glory and good publicity of her father’s company.

Worst part?

He has been watching.

Like a predator in the darkness, waiting to strike when she was least suspecting it.

„Mr L/N.” Damian crept behind the girl and her father and she was sure he only did it on purpose to startle her. „Would you mind if I steal your daughter for a dance.

The tragicomic of the situation was truly poetic.

Her father went pale. Then red. His jaw got tense. Then loose. And then he smiled forcefully nodding his head, unable to say the dreaded yes. Apparently being torn between the devil (his daughter dancing with the son of his archenemy) and the deep blue sea (offending the host) was too much to handle.,

Too bad, Y/N had no chance to object or get away before Damian led her to the dancefloor.

„It’s not XVIth century Wayne, women can make their own decisions.” she hissed not really happy about his hands circling around her waist.

„Then run away if that’s what you want. I dare you.”

„I’m not going to make a scene here!”

„thought so.” he chuckled, capably leading her in the dance.

„what the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

„absolutely nothing.”

„I’ve known you for five years. There’s never nothing with you Damian.”

‘You used my name, Y/N.”

‘And you repeated my mistake.”

„Maybe it’s not a mistake?” he pulled her slightly closer, causing her to let out an involuntarily gasp. „I’m just saying-”

„I’m supposed to hate you.” she whispered making a turn and then a swirl

„So you don’t.” this was not a question but a statement, his hands trembling slightly. It was hard for him to keep the attitude while dealing with a whirlwind inside. He was 17 and liked a girl, having no idea how to behave to not make a fool out of himself, get embarrassed and lose in her eyes.

„don’t let it get into your head.” she whispered pressing herself closer to his body. They were dancing and it was only because of that.

„Me?” Damian smiled but it came unnoticed due to her head leaning on his shoulder „I think you’re the one who’s fantasising.”

„You sure you’re not hoping for a midnight kiss?” she mocked

„Are you?”

„no.”

„me neither.”

Bruce and f/n were carefully watching their kids.

Damian and Y/n couldn’t care less.

Family drama and conflicts seemed light years away at that moment.

Future could be figured out later.

Part 2: moment of weakness

#damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #robin x you #robin x y/n #damian wayne fluff #christmas bingo #batfamily x reader

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feyascorner · 5 months

Text

blurry eyes

summary. Orin takes Astarion as a hostage and you nearly lose your mind trying to get him back. Even when you do, things aren't the way they used to be.

warnings. angst/comfort

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

a/n. fluffier break from TFBU bec it's draining the soul out of me🧍‍♀️ this is kinda messy but for me orin always kidnaps lae’zel and Im glad it’s never astarion but what if;;;

You're not yourself. Everyone knows it. Not since Orin showed up at camp wearing Astarion's face, his own blood smeared on the poor imitation of the cheeks you love so deeply. She taunted you, smiling wickedly in a way that made your stomach churn before you lunged at her with a blade, only for her to vanish into a mist of red.

You usually prefer to use your silver tongue to get out of a dangerous situation. But now, all you want to see is her blood sprayed across a wall.

There are bags under your eyes, going days without sleep. You hadn't realized how accustomed you'd become to his arms cradling you in the dead of night, his cold hands wrapped around your shoulders and your cheek pressed against the crook of his neck. You hadn't realized how attached you'd gotten to him.

The fight is quick. Despite your companion's warnings to get some rest, you charged into Bhaal's temple the moment you had access to it, and rightfully so, because she didn't stand a chance against your wrath.

And now, even with him at your fingertips, laying so peacefully on a stone slab with his eyes shut, all you can feel is the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You gently touch his cheek, and you find that it's cold, as it's always been. There's a slice of a knife, surely to leave a scar if it's not treated well. You smile a bit, the first time in days, thinking of how he'd complain about the blemish a few weeks from now.

He finally stirs, and when his eyes peel open to your face, his face falls.

"Gods above," he whispers. "Stop with the damn tricks, Orin. I'm no fool."

Your heart breaks. And while all you want to do is wrap him in your arms and wipe away his frown, the adrenaline holding you together is long gone. You're exhausted, you realize, only managing to grab the edge of the stone slab before you crumple onto your knees, vision going blurry.

Ah, maybe you should have rested.

No, not when he'd been here to suffer alone, forced to face Orin's blood-thirst. Not when you'd smelled his blood on her blade.

You want to comfort him, but nothing comes through your throat.

The two of you don't speak much. He doesn't speak much to anyone, for that matter, for a few days. You can sense the uneasiness of your other companions, who don't dare ask what Orin did to him while you'd nearly lost yourself trying to get to him. You don't approach him, fearing he might recoil away.

The only thing you can do is watch over him while he writhes in his bed, drenched with sweat and nightmares you cannot take away. You're not even sure if they're about Cazador or Orin anymore, but you can't bring yourself to touch him or the healing scar on his cheek in hopes of soothing him.

It's only two weeks later when most of your companions have gone out, and it's just the two of you on opposite sides of the room. You rub at your blade with a cloth, numbly focused on sharpening it for a bigger foe while he's still reading his book in a silence that should feel comfortable but only makes your mouth dry.

"Hells, I can't do this anymore."

You blink as he strides across the room, and he's suddenly sitting next to you while you continue staring at him like he grew a mushroom from his head. "Do what?"

"We must talk about---well, you know, darling."

Even in this brittle stage of your relationship, the way he says your nickname is loving. It makes your heart squeeze.

You place the blade on the ground. "Okay. We can talk."

There's a silence that hangs in the air before he sighs. "Torture is not a foreign concept to me, my dear. If my years under Cazador's palace did anything for me, it's made my pain tolerance impossibly high."

You frown. This does not make you feel better.

He eyes you from the side, leaning back on both his hands. "What I'm trying to say is, you don't have to worry so much about me. Even if I were to perish, I'm sure there are other vampires willing to help you with your cause to defeat the Elder Brain, though they'd be considerably less charming."

You're immediately on your feet. "Of course, I was worried about you! And I don't care if you've gone through hell and back, pain is still pain, and I don't want to see or think about you even stepping foot into something like that, much less the temple of the Lord of Murder!"

He stands after you. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Other vampires?" you say in disbelief. "Well, I don't want other vampires, I want the one that I can't even sleep without."

Your eyes are glossy now, and you hate yourself for it. You should be consoling him, not becoming emotional over the torture that he experienced. But the words come out like vomit, and you can't stop yourself.

"Love, please don’t ruin your pretty face with tears,” he tries, hands awkwardly hanging in the air as he struggles to find what to do.

“Don't act like getting kidnapped isn't a big deal," you swipe at your eyes. "You won't even talk to us."

He blinks. "Me? Avoid speaking with you?"

"Yes!"

"Well, forgive me for giving you space. You looked positively demented after you were done stabbing that vile woman to the death, I assumed you needed time to recover before I could approach you."

"What? I was giving you space."

"I assure you it was the other way around.”

“You were avoiding me!”

“Because you were avoiding me!”

You're both just staring at each other now, at a loss of words for what turned out to be a miscommunication that should have been resolved days ago. The silence hangs thickly in the air, and a rush of emotions runs between you two, expressions shifting every few moments before they simultaneously become one.

He purses his lips to refrain from smiling. You stifle a laugh.

Then you're both laughing and while the topic of discussion does not warrant as such, you can't help yourself when days of ignoring one another have come down to such a minor bump between you. When both of you calm, you sigh again, this time in utter relief. "This was anticlimactic."

"It was," he confirms. "But this one time, I don't mind."

Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest while he returns the gesture by holding you tighter. You stand there a bit, quietly, until he clears his throat.

"For the record, I don't want you to go around searching for other vampires."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

You decide he can tell you more about what happened when the time comes, but now, you're more than happy the way you are.

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #bg3 tav #bg3

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temporaryrose200 · 9 months

Text

✩My Soon-to-be husband✩

✟pairing: Claude X Fem Reader

✟genre: Yandere

✟warning: Yandere, mention of murder, keeping someone under their own will.

✟scenario

✟fandom: Who Made Me A Princess

✟summary: Weeks of searching for a way back to you world was becoming was becoming slimmer and slimmer. A week before your wedding day, Claude calls for you.

✟a/n: This is another part to this headcanon I made a while back. If you haven’t read part one, you should!:)

Narrow eyes scanned the bookshelves of the palace library, desperately trying to find a book. A book of magic to be precise. Having only been staying at the palace for a month now, you had been desperately trying to find some way back to your world. In only a week, you would married to that demon man, Claude. As soon as you arrived to the palace that day, Claude had wanted the wedding to take place the next day, obviously scared about this information, you begged the emperor to wait a month or so to at least let you settle. After a bit of persuading, he finally agreed, unknowingly giving you time to find a way out of this nightmare. But as days passed, escaping began to feel hopeless.

Picking up one of the many books on the shelf, you quickly skimmed through, eyes searching for certain words. Like many other times though, nothing came up and with a frustrated sigh, you closed the book and stuffed it back onto the shelf. Having been in this library every chance you got, you had nearly been through every single spell book the palace had to offer and nothing came up!

Hearing the sound of the door opening, heavy footsteps followed suit, you had a slight inkling feeling who it was. “What is it now Felix?” You questioned, eyes continuing to scan the dark oak shelf. The tall crimson red-haired guard was either here for two reasons. Reason one: To check up on you and see if you haven’t escaped or planning an escape, and then reason two: To call for you…

A shudder went down your spine at the thought of seeing that cold-hearted emperor, praying to the gods for it to be the first option. “I apologise for disturbing you Miss [name], but his highness has summoned you” Felix spoke softly. Glaring down at your clenched fist, you didn’t have a choice in the matter. Claude didn’t care if he had to order someone to drag you to him, as long as you’re brought to him without a single scratch on your body. And he will check. So not wanting to put another poor guard through what happened the last time you refused, you obligated. Carefully stepping down the ladder steps, Felix under you making sure you don’t accidentally fall. Reaching the final step, the redheaded guard with a firm grip on your wrist, guided you down. Feet now on the ground, you and the Royal guard made your way out of the comfort of the library to the vicious lion’s den.

Following slowly behind with Felix leading the way, you could feel the eyes of passing servants go by, pity filled in their eyes. You tried to ignore them, but soon it became impossible when they began mumbling to one another. Muttering softly about the “disappearance” of your maid. But you know, everyone knows that she didn’t disappear! It was Claude who murdered that poor girl…

Finally stopping in front of a pair of white doors, Felix stepped forward and knocked lightly but still louder enough for someone to hear. It was dead quiet, nobody answered and you let out a relieved sigh. Felix knocked again, this time louder, waiting for some kind of response. You tried hiding your excitement, you really did but it was too damn hard. You didn’t have to see that monster. Backing away from Felix, you gave the redhead a shrug with a fake pout. “Aww, looks like he’s not in.” The pout then morphed into a giddy expression and you waved over to the confused guard. “Well, see you.”

About to dash off, Felix grabbed your wrist, lightly pulling you toward him. “He could just be sleeping” Felix reminded. Placing a hand on the door handle, the man opened it. Your breath hitched and you cringed watching the door eerily open, reminding you of the horror movie you used to watch before you were trapped in this nightmare of a world. Eyes pleaded for Felix to let you go back to the library, you would have got on your hands and knees if it wasn’t for the royal guard pushing you into the dimly lit room. “You’re his fiancée, I don’t think he would mind if you woke him up and anyway, he did ask for you.” And with that the oblivious man closed the door, leaving you all alone inside the lion’s den.

Thoughts plagued your head, eyes scanning the room for any sign of Claude. Checking the comfy plush bed of your soon-to-be husband, you see no Claude. Wanting to believe that he had more pressing matters to attend to, you knew that hope was just a pipe dream. Even if his kingdom was on the brink of war, the emperor would still make time for you, and probably (definitely) even start a war for you. It horrifies you to the core to think a man like him could be that obsessed with someone. A man who killed his own flesh and blood…

E/C eyes landed on a nearby figure laying peacefully on an elegant white and golden couch. Approaching the man you would find yourself captivated by the sight. Even if he was a horrible man, you do have to admit that Claude was breathtaking to look at, though you would never say that out loud. A bit of his golden locks lay against his face, covering his soft smooth face. You don’t know what compelled you to do this next thing, moving a hand towards him, you push a few locks of hair away from his face and behind his ear. In this state, he looks peaceful. You found it weirdly cute, making you forget all the bad stuff he’s done to you and the people around him. An emperor that would kill thousands in your name now reminded you of a sleeping child. But soon that would change. Not wanting to disturb him, you pushed yourself up and as you were about to move away, a hand grabbed your arm with a tight squeeze. “Where do you think you’re going?” A chill went down your spine and you mentally cursed at yourself. How long had he been awake, was he really asleep or was it some sort of trick?!

The tight grip on your wrist would surely leave a bruise. Stuttering out a response, you tried coming up with something to get you got off this shitty situation. “Umm, W-well you see…I um-“ Becoming pissed with all this stuttering and stumping, Claude rolled his diamond eyes pulling you onto him. Falling onto his chest, an arm slithered around your waist. You knew fighting him would be futile and it would only anger him, so you stayed, your head resting against his chest, hearing the light thumps of the emperor’s heartbeat. Tears welling up In your beautiful E/C eyes, sobs escaped from your mouth and salty tears stained the blonde clothes. Was this your life, to be the wife of this monster? You had a second chance at life, which not many people had and it was already going down the gutter.

Claude on the other hand ignored your cries, instead, he imagined a perfect life with you. Just the two of you together forever, maybe even a child, if Claude was kind enough to share you. Who knows what the future will hold…

#who made me a princess #wmmap #who made me a princess x reader #wmmap x reader #yandere claude x reader #yandere claude #claude de alger obelia #claude de alger obelia x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #manhwa #manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa #yandere manhwa x reader #wmmap claude #x reader #wmmap fanfic #🌸

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stayinlimbo · 29 days

Text

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note: i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it?

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc.

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee.

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you.

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers.

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls.

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.”

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them.

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth.

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row?

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face.

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh.

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief.

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep.

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc.

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

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vibingandsimping · 9 months

Text

Random sfw + nsfw thoughts/headcanons for randomly assorted characters from BG3! Excuse any grammatical errors or poor phrasing… it is nearly midnight and I got off work.

Send requests or thoughts in my ask box. It will always be open!

Forewarnings/tags: Trying to keep this gender neutral… mentions of sweat/scent, blood-drinking, possession/control, some tooth-rotting fluff, fingering (receiving + giving), oral (receiving), hate-fucking, some ass-play mentions?, nipple-play, dirty talk, degrading, praise, validation.

Characters involved… Astarion, Wyll + Gortash

Astarion,

If you have warm-blood… such as a living creature. He adores that- his fingers trail along the expanse of your skin and if you could see his eyes you’d swear his name made sense. It has been so long since he had his own warm skin. Since Cazador stripped him of his innocence and life. He lives vicariously through your body. He may be dead but you breathe life into him and he swears his cold-heart no longer beat still.

He admires your features. The more unconventional ones. Like the wrinkles in your skin, the uglier scars that line your flesh. Moles, freckles, stretch marks… they all remind him of how uniquely alive and different you are. He’d kiss each one if you’d let him as his tongue singed praises.

He’d craft you a perfume or cologne to your scent. His senses are heightened as a vampire. He’s pressed his nose against the crook of your flesh more times than he could count. He’s smelt your skin and sweat… all of your essence. He has tasted and inhaled the scent of your blood. With that information, he presents you a mixture of herbs and other properties. Once applied to your skin, it illuminates your personality. Truly, as he said, he missed his calling.

As we all know… this man loves to bite. It is a form of dominance as well intimacy. Your vulnerability and his stake of claim as well as acceptance. You do not truly understand the importance behind the act. He never fed on humanoids until you. You were the sweetest he’d ever tasted… and will ever truly taste. The fact you’d give yourself so willingly gives him a feeling of superiority. As well as a lighter, chest tightening feeling of belonging. As much as you belonged to him, he was also yours.

He truly loves to delve into your pleasure. As much as he is fond of using his tongue… to break you apart with simply his mouth. Watch you crumble and cry from betwixt your thighs, there is also an unremarkable excitement in his fingers. Filling you and stretching you with them. Working to angle and prod the most sensitive parts whilst his tongue slides against yours or along your neck. Licking at the wounds from his feedings. To hear you cry so deliciously from just the thickness and persistence of his fingers strokes his ego. He knows he will fuck you dumb unto his cock.

A shorter smut headcanon but I do believe he’d love cumming on your skin. Your face, chest (particularly loves giving you a pearl necklace, he thinks you look dashing), stomach, thighs… any skin that is available, honestly. There is a strange sense of pride for him in it. To see you covered in him. He also loves to cum inside. Either works, honestly, as long as it is you.

Wyll (this guy has no fics about him. Step up y’alls game)

A true gentleman. He grew up as a son of royalty… what do you expect? If you guys ever had a proper date, he’d dress no less to impress the finest. Honestly, it makes you feel so utterly underdressed. He adorns a wonderful cologne. It is reminiscent of leather, warm spices and a sweeter scent like honey. His vest has gold detailing along a beautiful maroon. Still, in his eyes you are the most stunning thing he’s ever seen. No matter how fancy you dressed. He cannot keep his eyes off you, truly.

We all know he loves to dance. It is something he praises in his dialogue. Still, he wishes no more than to dance with you. If you can or cannot dance, it doesn’t matter. He will teach you the rhythm and steps if you have two left feet. Each time you trip or fall, he simply quirks a smile and offers a hand. He does not judge, only finds some amusement in how adorable he finds you. If you know how to dance? How delightful. He will play some faint music to follow along too. His hand rested along the small of your back and his fingers intertwined with yours. Dipping you and guiding you as the music fades away and you’re left with the trance of his loving gaze.

As much as he is a gentleman, I think he’d love harmless pranks. Gentle teasing of your character to see your frustrations and shock. He’d ‘misplace’ an item of yours to see you scour in confusion. Then, when you look at him, he is holding it out with a devious little smirk. He lets out a chuckle when you stomp over and nearly cuss him out. He loves every side of you and you know that it’s lighthearted fun… and god damn is it hard to hold a grudge when he has a smile like that. Curse him, truly.

He is a simple man, honestly. He takes pleasure in what you take pleasure in. Will indulge your desires and kinks as long as they aren’t particularly destructive. Though, he does have a little… interest. He proposes it one day with some nerve, or, you happen to stumble on it yourself. Nonetheless, he enjoys his ass being prodded during oral. You noticed when a fondling hand upon his balls drifted and brushed against his hole. He stiffened and let out a strained noise. You brushed it again before discovering it was one of pleasure. With that information, do as you will. Just know that it makes him release much easier than he intends. He finds it a dirty (although frustratingly pleasurable) trick when you go down on him.

He enjoys toying with your nipples while either betwixt your thighs or wrapped around you. There is a certain look you hold when his thumbs squeeze and roll them. You arch your back a little more and your thighs quiver as the pleasure shoots between them and enhance what he was giving you. It was truly a sight and he didn’t even have to say anything for you to unravel just the way he’d like. Don’t think it’s just hands, either. He’ll glide his tongue along them, sucking and nibbling til he is assured you’re enjoying it.

Gortash (I’m a dirty Gortash lover… sue me. Durge will get some content later, I swear)

Starting off with the normal Tav… If you manage to ‘fix’ him in a sense, he admires your persistence and patience with him. He had a troubled past that he overlooked and developed some… issues from. Yet, it was your kindness and guidance that led him to stopping the Absolute and creating a better city. He is not perfect, by far. Enver is still a controlling man. He needs some sort of power and dominance to soothe his mind. Though, he does not use fear to control his citizens anymore. He’s truly impressed by the way you swayed him. You can see it in the way he gazes at you sometimes. There is certain softness as his hand grasps yours and he looks to you for reassurance in a moment of vulnerability. He needs you to keep him in reigns.

He loves holding you from behind and to bury his face into your neck. The crook between your head and shoulder holds such warmth and a smell that is yours. It reminds him of the path he has chosen… and the person he gets to cherish for it. He places his hands onto your stomach and allows his sharp, metal nails to tease the skin. To remind you of the still powerful man whose giving up such command and control to you. Someone who grounds him. He might even hum into your skin in content if you do not push him away. Honestly, you will eventually. He could cling onto you like a koala of you did not stop him. He murmurs into your skin about how you two rule this kingdom… and one day you’ll be officially betrothed to him. The thought of him proposing and taking your hand in marriage makes your heart flutter.

Although he is so soft with you, he fucks you like he hates you. His cock battering your walls and filling you up so painfully full. He is thick- and makes your mind melt as he stretches you unlike you’ve known. He may not be particularly the longest but he does not lack length. Sadly, foreplay isn’t the best thing he’s at. You can blame it for his inflated ego and quick beds over the years. If you ruined his initial plans and had him submit the Absolute, he seethes in your ear about it. As much as he is a changing man, there is a part deep down that will resent that fact for awhile. He could’ve had everything he’d ever wanted as a boy. “Look at you, such a dirty thing. Soiling my plans, stomping into my heart… and now you’re sprawled on my sheets pathetically.”

When you finally convince or wrangle him into going down on you, it’s a sight. A mess of black hair and hands wrapping around your thighs. His tongue works rapidly, lavishing you in slightly inexperienced licks. Sucking at your sensitive parts before returning to ravishing you with his tongue. It is not that he hasn’t gone down before in all his years… it’s that his ego was so inflamed that he never truly thought or cared for it before you. He’s willing to try and work on better things just for you. As such, this is a way of showing his commitment to you. Not only to indulge in his pleasures but to show he cares about yours.

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princekeerys · 2 months

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i had this idea pop into my head a couple nights ago and i finally put it into words! hope u all enjoy <33

wc 662

☾. °. ࿐ ` , •

yet another meeting.

charlie had gathered everyone in the hotel’s lounge area for a rundown of new team building exercises that she wanted to explain to everyone. it wasn’t that you weren’t interested in helping out, you were.

it was just the fact that the couch cushions you were currently sat on were providing the utmost comfort and it also wasn’t helping that you were trying not to nod off in between sentences — you swear you closed your eyes at “trust fall exercises” and opened them back up at “writing out your feelings is also important”

and then there was the red radio demon you were sat beside.

alastor.

everyone feared his presence, wouldn’t dare to even look in his direction. but the way he was with everyone else, he wasn’t the same way towards you. you didn’t know how to describe it; sitting beside him right now, you felt a sort of… warmth. and of course with that usual smile he has plastered on his face, you don’t know which emotion he’s feeling.

but it doesn’t make you wanna run away and hide. instead, you feel contentment. you feel safe next to him, even though you know that he could have you dead in cold blood within seconds.

and this is perhaps the fifth time he’s watched you, out of the corners of his eyes, nod off for what seems like five seconds, only to almost jolt awake again in what seems like… panic? oh you poor little thing.

“you know, cher” he’s not even focused on charlie’s tangent anymore, instead on you, the tired little doe that can barely keep her eyes open. he still keeps his eyes trained forward. “if you’re feeling so out of sorts, i could provide you with a tad bit more comfort, if you truly desired” his voice is a low whisper, careful not to disturb the other hotel stayers as he’d rather not bring attention to the fact that he maybe cares about someone. how preposterous.

you look up at alastor through your tired eyes. he has one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on his kneecap — you think he looks so handsome sitting this close to you. he meets your gaze with a turn of his head, careful not to cause such a commotion as he glances between you and his shoulder.

oh?

it’s a very sweet gesture. especially coming from the radio demon himself because you know he hates when people invade his privacy. and even though you’ve always wondered what it’s like to fully be in his touch…

you’re scared, shy, all of the above.

and you think the dust of pink on your cheeks gives it all away.

“no need to get so bashful on me, sweetheart, it’s just a simple gesture. besides i can’t have a belle like you being exhausted all day, now can i, hm?”

alastor trains his focus back towards charlie as you shyly take his offer, slowly laying your head down on his suit-clad shoulder and it’s… very cozy, you decide. the small amount of contact feels very serene as you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. and god forbid anyone looks in your direction, otherwise you probably wouldn’t hear the end of it. especially angel dust who’s been bugging you about your little crush on the radio demon.

you decide to go a bit further and link your arm around his, only for a bit more warmth your mind declares is the perfect excuse while your heart fluttering in your tummy, watching for any disapproval alastor has. but he shows none. it’s the greatest feeling in the world to be this close to him. you shouldn’t get used to this… but god, do you want to, so bad.

“you gonna put me to bed too after this?” you whisper jokingly in alastor’s ear, seeing his ear twitch just the slightest. how can an overlord be this adorable?

“don’t push your luck, cher”

please reblog/comment if you enjoyed my work, it’s greatly appreciated ♡

#❥ lexi’s daydreams #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #alastor imagine #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff

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frogchiro · 4 months

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can I request thots on hybrid coyote graves and maybe a sweet little farmer who dotes on him- she legit gives him food and scratches all the time thinking he's a dog because of how sweet he is to her- plot twist he's just being polite cuz he's in love and is ready to mate her anytime she bends over 💕 bonus points if she's totally receptive and that makes him go feral

I think you'd like my cottage core!Reader au I did a while back!! Bc it's basically what you described, just Coyote!Philip being the biggest menace to poor reader who just wants to live her quaint and calm life in her cottage surrounded by forests and rolling fields of green, but suddenly this loud, cocky coyote hybrid appeared!

He may be loud with his howls and yowls and keeping you up at night but that are just his mating calls! He wants you to know he's an eligible coyote male, very strong and virile and that he's ready to mate with you! And he has to let you know too!

But you never hold that against him, bless your heart. You can never say no to those big blue eyes and the charming, toothy smile he sends your way. He's older but very handsome in a rogue-ish, rugged way. And he's very friendly and chatty too! Swings by your cottage every day to chat with you and spending the whole day with you (sometimes the night too, unknowingly to you he sometimes sleeps in your garden) and sometimes he comes bearing gifts! They range from berries to dead birds he hunted for you to fluffy warm pelts and blankets for the harsh winters here! (You don't ask how he got the last one)

And after all his efforts you can't just not try and repay him :(( Philip wants to prove he is a great provider and can and will take care of you (and any possible pups you produce) so you make delicious jam from the berries he gathered that you later put into those cookies he loves snacking on and you use the birds he hunted and the vegetables from your garden to make rich, nutricious meals for the hybrid and he is yet to turn a single one of them down <3

As for the pelts and blankets they come in handy when a harsh winter hits and you're scrambling to put together a fire in the fireplace to warm yourself and your home and assemble what is basically a pillow fort in your bed to warm yourself....But you couldn't help but worry about Phil. You know he has his den in the woods and that the pelt on his back and chest give him some warmth but this winter is worse than any you've seen and you worry about your hybrid companion, what if he freezes to death?

You were about to dress yourself and go out looking for him to invite him but luck was on your side and the hybrid male came to you first! He had his charming smile as always as he nonchalantly asked if he could warm himself up in your cottage and despite his bravado, you could see that the man was freezing cold so you immediately pulled him inside and basically stated that he is going to be staying with you for the rest of the winter and you won't take no for an answer.

Of course Philip was elated to hear it! For him this was basically a proposal and before long you two were snuggled under the warm furs and blankets Phil gave you (not before he insistently rubbed himself on your entire bed to 'scent it thoroughly'), falling asleep blissfully except for your hot blush as you felt the hot and hard pressure between your thighs and the blonde's panting and whines :((

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #this got out of control very quickly😭#but I hope you will like it love<3 #hybrids au #hybrid au #cottagecore!reader #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #philip graves

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stealanity · 3 months

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“ MY HEART WILL LOVE YOU. ” ft. lee heeseung

genre & warnings : brother's best friend ! heeseung, angst, cheating, crying, but i swear it ends fluffy asf + one die joke

summary : when your night turns into a nightmare, the one and only person capable of comforting you is him.

word count : 2,637

« can you please come get me? » you asked, in a voice so shaky that your interlocutor on the other side of the phone struggled to understand your words. heeseung straightened up on his bed, rubbing his eyes like a child before taking the phone away from his ear, checking the time displayed on the screen. frowning as he realized it was past two in the morning, he kicked his blanket away from his legs, finding himself on his feet the next second. « where are you? » his husky voice made you feel even more guilty for disturbing him at such a late hour, new tears forming at the edge of your tired eyes, « in front of his house. »

hesseung sighed, you could hear his exasperation through the phone. « i'll be there in fifteen minutes. » he concluded simply, putting an end to the call before getting ready to come and pick you up. gently pulling your phone away from your ear, you stared at it, his contact photo disappearing to make way for a completely black screen. the wind outside was cold, nibbling at your skin — your cheeks were probably even damaged than they already were. without being able to hold back any longer, many painful tears escaped your eyes to roll down your face.

you weren't sure whether contacting heeseung was a good idea : but he was, without a doubt, the only person who can console you. you can't count the number of times he's seen you cry, whether it's because of classes, work, your family or your boyfriends, heeseung dried more tears than your mother ever did. for all that, he was nothing more than your brother's best friend — but there was something about him that made him so comforting, so warm. he was like a shining sun at the end of a dark tunnel, or like an untied rope ready to bind you out of the deepest well. so yes, maybe calling him instead of any of your other friends was a bad idea, but at least you knew he'd take care of you.

when heeseung's car pulled up in front of you, the poor boy didn't expect to find you in such a state. curled up, your hair and face wet, your make-up smeared on your cheeks, your body shivering with cold.. it was perhaps the worst state he had ever seen you in. stepping down from the driver's side, rounding the car and landing in front of you, he didn't have time to offer you a hand before you stood up on your two legs, your watery eyes locked in his. « look at you.. » he began, his hand hesitantly brushing your bare arms, « you tremble like a leaf. » he didn't hesitate a second longer before grabbing the brim of the sweatshirt he was wearing, removing it with ease before deftly slipping it on you, without you being able to say anything.

pulling the hood up over your head, heeseung frowned as he bent down to your height. « why is your hair all wet? » his cold fingers brushed your cheekbone, trapping a lock of your wet hair behind your ear, which made you look up at him, « and don't you dare lie to me. »

again fleeing his gaze, you tucked one of your hands into the pocket of his warm sweatshirt, pushing him lightly to the side to be able to open the car door. « i'll tell you at home. » — your voice was so fragile, it shook his heart, but he said nothing more, nodding his head before stepping around the car to the steering wheel.

the driving home passed in dead silence, despite the many glances he gave you — which you brilliantly ignored. with your face turned completely towards the window, you furiously tried to wipe away the tears that continued to roll down your battered cheeks. heeseung wasn't fooled : he knew you were crying, but he wasn't the type to comment. especially when it came to you. as far back as he could remember, he'd always been the one requisitioned to chase this droplets of salt water from your cheeks. your brother too bored and your parents too absent, unable to do it themselves. but it had never bothered him, not even once. he'd always taken a liking to you — it was inexplicable. he always had a soft spot for you, and that was probably why he could never say no to you. you could call him three times a night, at different hours, and he'd still be ready to drop all his plans for you. everyone knew, except you. what a shame.

arriving in front of his house, he got out of the car after turning off the ignition, reaching into the pocket of his jogging to find the key to his front door. followed closely by you, heeseung suddenly felt your body cling to his, your face camouflaged against his back, and a light smile appeared on his lips. innocently, your hands clung to his shirt, the cold of your fingers passing through the fabric to reach his skin, provoking a shiver down his spine. heeseung hurriedly opened the door, pulling you inside with him, hoping that the warmth of his apartment would warm your chilled body.

remaining motionless in the doorway, his hands settling over yours in a comforting gesture, patiently waiting for you to detach yourself from him. not that you bothered him, on the contrary — but he wanted to find something to take care of you properly. « let's go and remove your make-up, mh? » he softly whispered, leaning his face slightly towards you, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes, even though they were camouflaged in his shirt, « don't you think your face has suffered enough as it is? »

nodding, you decided to let him go, throwing off your shoes as he did so. then, with hushed steps, even though no one else was present, you followed him like a lost puppy to his bathroom, where he practically ordered you to sit still by the sink. without the strength to do anything else, you carried out his orders, playing nervously with your fingers as you gazed sadly into the void. heeseung soaked a cotton pad in make-up remover to wipe away the mascara that had run down your cheeks, his free hand gently raises your face to keep your eyes focused on his face.

as he began to rub your cheek gently so as not to hurt you, his gaze met yours for a brief second. « are you going to tell me what happened now? » he asked, his voice echoing off the walls before you could let out a sigh, « at least tell me why your hair was soaked. »

your eyes juggled from one to the other of his, pursing your lips nervously as you felt tears welling up in your eyes once again. « his girlfriend came home. » you simply said, which caused heeseung to stop all movement, his eyebrows furrowing more than ever. « but.. you're his girlfriend? » he replied, tilting his head to one side in the hope that he'd misunderstood what you'd just said. but no, he had indeed heard the right words : judging by the way new tears appeared on your cheeks the next second. « that's what i thought too. » you struggled to say, your voice cracking in mid-sentence, and heeseung swore he could hear your heart breaking in your chest.

you felt so bad — you felt betrayed and soiled, this evening had been a real fiasco. what had begun as a perfect date had ended in a nightmare : while you and your supposed boyfriend ( well, now ex-boyfriend ) were sitting on the couch watching a movie, the front door had opened to let in a young pretty girl, obviously just as surprised as you to see you clinging to her boyfriend. your first instinct was to distance yourself from him, which wasn't your best decision because, unfortunately, it led this girl to believe that you were her boyfriend's mistress. in anger, she grabbed the glass of water from the coffee table, threw it in your face and chased you out of which, was obviously, her house.

« i feel so dumb heeseung.. » you whispered, burying your face in your hands as you felt more tears fall from your eyes. the boy didn't wait any longer before pulling you against him, wrapping his warm and comforting arms around your body and making you want to burst into tears even more. he was your crying button, because you weren't afraid to show him your emotions. you knew that no judgment would come out of his mouth, that no wrong words would be spoken — because he was like that, an escape. « now, i understand why you didn't want to tell me in front of his house, » he sighed, rubbing your back up and down, « you knew i would have gone to see him. »

reluctantly pulling your body away from his, hooking your hands on his bare arms, just above his elbows, you draw him away from you to give him the opportunity to observe your face attentively, his soft gaze scanning your flushed cheeks. sniffing discreetly, you shook your head negatively and spoke again, « he wasn't worth it anyway. »

heeseung nodded positively, swallowing all the swearings that rambled on his tongue about your ex-boyfriend — he could have given him a free nose job if he'd known what he'd done earlier. but, putting aside his feelings for you, he'd never been able to stand that boy's interest in you. from the start, he had been behaving strangely : he was far too hasty, slightly possessive for someone who'd only just met you, and far too helpful to be reliable. heeseung was angry that he hadn't been able to protect you more from him, despite the bad feeling he'd had towards him. « don't feel guilty, » your sweet, honeyed voice, even in a whisper, drew him out of his thoughts, drawing his attention to the smile mingling with a few tears on your gorgeous face, « i'm glad you came. »

heeseung was sure you saw his face blush softly — a red tinge painting the top of his cheeks. but he didn't care. because he thought, sooner or later, you'll understand that you don't need to find love at every corner, because it's right there in front of you. he's the one who'll know how to take care of you properly — because he's always known how to do it, perfectly, tenderly. and he was sure that deep down, you knew it too.

your hand left his arm and rested tenderly on his flushed cheek, caressing his skin with the tip of your thumb. « thank you for always being my source of happiness, » you whispered, trying not to laugh as his face redoubled in color, « you're the only comfort i ever need. »

if you didn't look so sad, heeseung wouldn't have hesitated for a second to kiss you. you didn't realize how fast his heart was beating right now — you always knew how to make him fall madly in love with your words. he struggled so hard not to let his pupils divert to your lips, but the desire to catch a glimpse of your rosy lips stretched into a stomach-crushing smile was too strong. he allowed himself, for a microsecond, to look down the curves of your nose, to observe your heart shaped mouth, who seemed far too lonely for his liking.

but heeseung was an upright man : so he simply cleared his throat, looking away to rummage in his cupboard and pull out a jar of moisturizer, to soothe your skin irritated by cold and tears. dipping his finger in the whitish cream, he delicately applied it to your cheeks, chin, forehead and the tip of your nose, your fingertips shivering from the cold material. and you let him, admiring his concentrated face — so peaceful, so perfect. the contours of his face probably sculpted by the gods. the bridge of his slightly upturned nose, the shape of his beautiful, mischievous brown eyes. but above all : the exquisite shape of his shining mouth, his perfectly rosy heart-shaped lips.

you've lost count of the number of times you've squinted at heeseung's lips : the first time was in your middle school years, when you were just discovering what it was like to kiss someone. he'd walked into your living room, a dreadful cap on his head, and even though he looked like an idiot in his three-times-tall clothes, which were supposed to make him look cool, the jaw-dropping smile on his lips had not failed to make you dream about kissing him every night. but rather die than admit it.

for all these years, what has held you both back from trying something with each other, is the fact that he's your brother's best friend. but as you get older, you realize that maybe it wasn't so bad after all. heeseung wasn't your brother's property after all — and you were old enough to make your own decisions. so, maybe when your heart's a little more mended — still thanks to one and the same person — you'll let it love the one and only person who's always deserved it.

the soft smile on your lips caught heeseung's attention, the sadness seemed to have already disappeared from your face. as he gently tugged at your waist to get you off the sink, he decided to question you, « what's on your mind? »

shrugging your shoulders without answering, you moved closer to him, pressing your body against his. your arms encircle his waist, trying to capture all the warmth emanating from him, tiptoeing up to rest your cheek against his shoulder. without hesitation, heeseung placed his arms around you, the fingertips of his left hand caressing your hip. « you're so warm.. » you murmured, your breath evaporating against his sensitive skin, provoking an umpteenth shiver that didn't escape your attention this time.

moving slightly, you straightened up slightly, simply to hide your face in the hollow of his neck, eager for more of his warmth. only his. the situation with your ex-boyfriend now in a distant corner of your mind, you let yourself melt into his arms a little more, feeling his heart beat under the palm of your hand. it was restful, reassuring and comforting. and suddenly, under the subdued light of the bathroom, in the cocoon he formed around you with his warm arms, you felt ready to confide in him the deepest feeling that had rested inside you for far too long, the most unmentionable thing you were ready to say out loud. « i long for the day when my heart will love you. » you confessed to him, in the hollow of his ear, in an almost unreal whisper, like a secret that only he should know, like the most scandalous of gossips.

heeseung felt his heart racing in his chest, unable to calm it, even knowing that it was accelerating under your fingers delicately placed on his chest. but why did he care, after all? it didn't matter how vulnerable you made him feel after such words — because the truth was, he was looking forward to this day too, just as much as you. and he was willing to wait a long time : because the simple fact that you wanted to love him, filled his heart with happiness.

taglist ( even if i don't think i still have one.. here's the google form ! ) : @quaissants @kimsohn @wccycc @taegicarus @lost-leopard-beanie @kflixnet

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evanpetersmybf · 2 months

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All he asked for was you

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Tate loves you too much. He would do anything for you, to keep you by his side, to make you love him forever. He would cross any line to make you his, it doesn't matter how evil it is... But was it really worth it?

Genre: ANGST!! and some smut

Word count: 5,104

Warnings: Obsessive, stalkish and violent behavior, implicit toxic relationship; mentions of weapons, murder, mental health issues, family issues, school shooting; use of Y/N, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v. (i hope i'm not missing any...) NOT PROOFREAD !!

A/N: English isn't my first language!! Sorry if I have some mistakes and if Tate's a bit ooc (i tried to keep him in character as much as i could). I wasn't sure (and still not) if this is good but I spent days writing it, so I had to post it.

A small playlist with songs that inspired me for this: monster by meg and dia, pacify her by melanie martinez, all i want is you by rebzyyx, skyfall by adele, psycho by doko, paparazzi by lady gaga, dark red by steve lacy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate never believed in love, nor was he a romantic one.

In fact, he despised it. How could he even believe in that feeling when he never felt loved by his own mother? At least that’s what he pretended.

The blond always had the facade of a tough guy, although he couldn’t fool anyone. Constance knew well he was a sensitive boy. Probably the most crybaby ever to exist… And the most unstable one.

Now he was here. His chest going up and down, breathing shallow and fast. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something or perhaps someone. Some silly tears were rolling down his cheeks while he anxiously fidgeted with a ring on his finger. The clock on the wall continued its tick-tack. The time kept running. His heart kept beating. It was getting late.

He refused to look at the wooden floor. He didn’t want to accept reality. If Tate did that, he would feel like the biggest monster on Earth.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t stay like this.

He had to do something real fast.

Today, 18:40

You were supposed to arrive at 19:00.

But he remained there, next to the corpse of his rival. A bloody ax beside the dead man’s bleeding head.

Whom he thought was his worst enemy, was someone really dear to you.

Well, Tate fervently believed this was something justified. He couldn’t stand that fucking asshole anymore! That scumbag needed to be put back in his place. And Tate only did that. Furthermore, he actually helped him. He took him away from this shitty world. It was a favor.

He had already killed his mother’s boyfriend, so why was he feeling guilty?

Maybe because his victim was special to you. Because his death would hurt you. And Langdon swore to God he would never let anybody or anything hurt you, including himself.

He loved you.

He wanted to be the one to hold your hand forever.

Tate snapped back to the present and frowned. He picked up the weapon, putting it in his backpack. He didn’t even mind cleaning it. Then, he proceeded to knelt right next to the lifeless dude and cleaned the blood surrounding his body; afterwards, he dragged him to the basement and…

19:00

A knock on the door.

You arrived.

“DAMN IT!”

He left his dead foe lying limp on the cold basement ground and quickly ran upstairs, straight to his room. He also left the backpack there.

Tate spent the last twenty minutes cleaning the mess he made in the living room after he atrociously smashed your friend’s head, forgetting that had poor time to get ready.

He desperately looked for clean clothes, scrambling the entire closet in search of fresh garments while he cussed at himself, at his mother, at that freaking boy, at the entire world but you.

Finally he found some jeans and a striped shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror after changing and cleaned the tiny drops of blood that stayed on his face and hands. He never realized he left the bloody clothing on the bed.

Another knock.

19:07

Tate opened the door, immediately throwing himself at you and giving you one of the warmest hugs. His demeanor with you was completely different; you were the only creature capable of changing his fucked up mind into something more beautiful, more peaceful. The issue was that it only happened when he was with you, otherwise he would be aggressive and rude as usual.

You got the best of him.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, babe…” Voice muffled since his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Tate always did the same thing; clinging onto you like a small koala would.

“Heh, me too, hun!” You spoke with the same soothing voice he adored. Tate giggled and placed a tender kiss on your jawline, then another, and another, and another.

Soon enough, he was peppering kisses all over your neck, making you moan softly. Oh those sounds. He could hear you melting under his touch, his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

He loved making you squirm, making you laugh, making you feel loved.

He was way too sweet.

Only if you knew.

Four weeks before today…

Tate has always had the bad habit of stalking you. Yeah… He wasn’t proud of it. But can you blame him? He’s constantly afraid of you leaving him. He wanted to make sure you never did so… Otherwise he would die. Literally.

Don’t ask how he would die. You already know the answer.

You two were supposed to have a date, albeit you had to cancel your meeting.

And that, of course, made him overthink. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were going to study; he felt betrayed, as if you were rejecting him. And Tate hated and feared rejection to the bone.

“Pretty please? Please, Y/N! I don’t wanna go home early, mom’s gonna be there and-and–”

“Tate, I can’t skip this. I have like, a test every day next week and I must study. I don’t wanna fail. Please, sweetie. I promise I’ll make it up to ya’, mhm?”

He rolled his eyes and whined, almost throwing a tantrum. He didn’t try to manipulate you on purpose. It came out naturally. “But I need you, Y/N! Why do you always do the same, huh? Am I not that important? Don’t you love me any longer?”

His childish crying continued for a couple of minutes, until it stopped and the blond agreed a deal with you.

You thought he was calm now, but no. How naive.

You went to the library to study as you said… Without noticing he followed you.

Quietly, he got into that maze of books after you and hid behind some shelves.

Tate noticed you sat on an empty table. Thank God. Oh?

Who. Is. He.

A man Tate didn’t know sat next to you. Really close. Too close for Tate’s liking. He tried to think he was a stranger, that he wasn’t going to talk to you… He was wrong.

He clenched his hands into a ball when he saw that idiot talking to you, and the worst part was that you followed suit. It seemed you two were friends or something.

How DARE YOU talk to another man? No, how dare you talk to another HUMAN BEING!?

Tate was insecure 24/7.

If you weren’t there, Tate was falling apart. It was simple.

No Y/N, no happy Tate. Was it too hard to understand?

Three weeks before today…

It was Friday. Tate was impatiently waiting for you outside the campus, hanging a small bouquet of flowers he picked up.

Once he spotted you coming out from the building, he waved his hand and embraced you tightly once you were in front of him. He gave you the adorable present.

“Tate!”

“How did you do? Did you pass your tests? Don’t tell me, I’m sure you did.” Said, grinning from ear to ear. He was away from you for an entire week. How did he survive? He didn’t know, but he was glad to have you with him again. “Tell me about your life in the last days, baby. Please? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!”

There he was, the one and only drama queen Tate Langdon.

You talked about the tests, about how the teachers were being a pain in the ass (which clearly triggered in him the intense desire of hurting them because they stressed you), and… About a guy. The same guy from the library, with whom you spent the entire last week studying. He couldn’t stand it. He saw him as a threat to your relationship, especially since he was an old friend that you met many years ago.

As the days went by, you gave him more reasons to hate that jerk. Why? Well of course because you spent hours at the library doing homework or studying with him. Or even hanging out with him and other people.

In reality, you went out with him to a museum just once, and then skating with other colleagues. Nothing compared to the time you spent with Tate; in a week, you would hang out with him almost daily, and if you were way too busy, he would go to your place and spend the night there. He was so attached to you to the point he had to see you at least once a day. And that’s why he was so jealous of your friend. Tate couldn’t stand the idea of you sharing your life with someone else who wasn’t him or your family… And he also got jealous of them, but he was handling it.

Two weeks before today.

After Tate’s pleas, you decided to introduce your friend to him.

Probably a big mistake.

The date was really awkward; your friend tried being nice, and Tate acted surprisingly kind. Of course it was odd; usually, he despised all of your friends and treated them badly, yet this time was different. You were stunned, however, you tried to ignore it and instead got happy as he finally accepted a random person as your buddy.

Still and all, he hated that moron. It didn’t matter how much he tried liking your pal, he was jealous of him. He was getting on his nerves. He denied the fact that you had more love for other people that wasn’t him. Tate desired being your only one. Your number one. Your entire world. Because that’s what you were for him. And he was willing to do whatever to keep you with him.

Tate exchanged numbers with him and meticulously plotted a plan to ascertain he would never talk to you ever again. At first, it came out as a simple “I’m gonna scare the shit outta him”, nonetheless, it turned into a darker idea, very likely involving physical violence.

One week before today…

The last few days, Tate won Peter’s trust. Ah yes. That’s your friend's name. You were glad that he finally opened his warm heart and began to meet more people besides you.

You thought he needed a friend, an empathetic person who could support the blond when you weren’t available, that way he would feel less lonely and depressed.

They went to the cinema, to the arcade, even to a music store. Everything was going according to what he planned.

Eventually, he invited Peter to his place to play chess and other board games on a Sunday afternoon, before you arrived and had a date with Tate due to your anniversary.

Today, 16:00

Peter and Tate were eating pizza and having a great noon, talking about their lives and random stuff, like school and music. They both enjoyed Nirvana, and since Peter played the guitar, he agreed on teaching your boy how to.

If it weren’t for Tate’s twisted mind, they would’ve been best friends.

The guitarist wasn’t a bad guy. He was a great buddy that really appreciated you and the crybaby, but Langdon had something else in mind.

18:00

The men watched a movie. Tate didn’t even know its name; in fact, he didn’t even pay attention to it. Instead, he was focused on his next actions, plotting them carefully.

“Crap, mom’s gonna arrive soon…” Tate mumbled with annoyance, biting his nails and tapping his foot on the floor. He was lying. You were going to arrive, not Constance.

“Damn, bro. Well, I don’t have a problem. I wanna meet her.”

“Huh? No no no, you shouldn’t. That bitch is crazy.”

Peter scoffed, disagreeing with Tate’s rude manner to call his own momma.

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk like that. I bet she loves you!”

That pissed him off. “You don’t know anything, Peter. Your family is different. Your life’s different. You won’t understand!” He yelled, standing up from the couch and now pacing around the room, trying to keep it calm.

“Dude, calm down!

“NO! I fucking won’t!”

The screaming continued for a while. Tate revealed his unstable and crystal self. Even something so insignificant could drive him to the edge, like what happened today. That definitely surprised the other one, who used to think that Tate was a sweet boy. “I dunno why Y/N is dating you.”

“What did you say?” Tate abruptly stopped pacing.

“Y/N. Y/N doesn’t deserve you.”

“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT!?” He pounced on Peter, gripping his neck with one rough hand, applying enough pressure on the sides to stop the blood circulation in his carotids and make him lose consciousness.

Before passing out, Peter, getting pale, managed to croak out: “Because she deserves better…”

Soon enough, he fainted, giving Tate minutes to think about what else to do.

Your boyfriend wasn’t planning on murdering Peter today. No, he didn’t have time. He also was supposed to meet you.. But this was the perfect excuse! And not only that; he indirectly admitted he was in love with you! Or that’s what Tate interpreted with his delusional point of view.

Peter didn’t feel anything romantic for you, he was just worried Tate might be too unhinged to be your partner.

Thus, he went to his room and grabbed his backpack. Then, went to the garden shed and picked up the ax that belonged to his father, and a bottle of lye.

He had to get the job done quickly, nevertheless, he lost track of time.

18:30

Tate came back to the living room, just to notice that Peter wasn’t there anymore.

“FUCK IT!” Langdon got nervous. What if he escaped? What if he told you that Tate was crazy? He couldn’t allow this, not at all.

Thankfully, or maybe not, Tate found Peter crawling towards the front door, the poor dude still feeling dizzy after being choked.

Tate didn’t have any mercy.

“Where do you think you’re going, lil’ piece of shit!?”

18:38

Tate finally did it. He brutally murdered Peter, smashing his head several times with the ax.

He got rid of that little issue. He took him to somewhere clean.

Once he assured the other man wasn’t breathing, he dropped the weapon on the floor, making a loud metallic thud.

19:10

Tate was pinning you down on the couch, the same couch where your dead friend was sitting just an hour ago.

His hands were traveling all along your body, tracing sweet patterns on your skin.

Eventually, his fingers were clumsily pulling down your panties, not minding to take off your skirt. “Did you bring this for easy access, baby?” Tate chuckled and buried his face between your legs, holding your thighs in place; his lips plastered messy kisses over the warm flesh, biting it and leaving tiny marks after sucking.

Your reaction was alluring to him; he enjoyed listening to your pleas, to your whimpers. If it was for him, he would spend the entire day making you cum over and over again.

He finally got rid of your underwear, tossing it aside. Without further ado, the boy spread your folds with his large digits, and continued to lick your throbbing wet cunt.

“So fucking pretty… So wet for me, huh?”

His tongue lapped your small clit two or three times, then, traced a zigzag and circles on the sensitive nub. While he devoured you, he inserted his middle and ring finger, pumping them in and out of your cute hole, curling them and hitting the right spot to make you feel butterflies.

Tate could feel his arousal growing; his erection being restrained by the tight fabric of his jeans. He was desperate, yeah. But he always put you in the first place, and that included pleasuring you before him.

After a while, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, fucking your pussy with the agile muscle and now rubbing your clit with his thumb, applying pressure that sent electric waves through your body. He stopped using his tongue on you and instead looked at that stunning face of yours. He was delighted with your flushed cheeks, with every single gesture you did, with the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture of you to remember this moment forever.

His thumb increased the pace, while his free hand lifted up your blouse and tried to undo your bra. He couldn’t. You giggled when he groaned in frustration; he was too horny to think straight and that’s why you helped him to take off the garment.

Tate sighed and after that awkward and funny moment, he kept rubbing your bud, using your own juices and his saliva as a lubricant, intensifying the sensation. His left pinched and pulled your nipple, making you gasp and twitch beneath him, whilst his mouth abused your other one, greedily sucking on it.

“Tate, ‘m gonna cum! I-”

Tate cut you off by kissing you harshly; his tongue invading your warm mouth, exploring it and then nibbling your bottom lip until it bleeded. He licked the tiny drops of blood, savoring the metallic taste of it.

Unable to hold on any longer, you reached your orgasm, coming undone while Tate kept caressing your pussy, decreasing the velocity while you finally calmed down.

He left you panting; your heart beating so fast just like his.

You tried to sit up on the couch, breathing deep for more air, but the blond prevented you from going away.

“Where do you think you’re doing? We’re not done yet, you’re gonna cum again!”

Tate carried you bridal style and went upstairs straight to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed.

Without stopping looking at you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans along the boxers; his dick already erect and throbbing, the veins thick and the tip leaking precum.

Using the clear liquid as lube, he stroked his shaft for a while, jerking off to the sight of you. He groaned and whimpered, closing his eyes as his hand pumped himself.

One of your hands went to your breasts, massaging them softly as your right went down between your legs, slowly teasing your womanhood and coating your index finger with your arousal, using it to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

Tate’s dark room was now filled with both of your moans; Tate calling your name several times and you begging him to fuck you.

He couldn’t stand this anymore. He NEEDED to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him. “On all fours. Now.” You immediately obeyed, feeling as eager as him.

“Look at me, mhm?” He positioned behind you and rubbed the tip against your wet folds, teasing you for a bit. Afterwards, he slowly entered his cock inside your slit, moving it slowly at first. His thumb went to your clitoris, toying with it just like minutes before. He picked up the pace and fucked you fast and hard; his cockhead brushing your cervix. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Tate pulled your head towards him, still with the deep thrusting. “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so pretty… So fucking precious, so fucking mine!” Moaned against your ear, voice raspy and agitated.

Panting, you stopped looking at him and instead looked to the bed. Why? Who knows, but you did it. And you saw Tate’s dirty clothes. Dirty with blood. A lot of blood.

You froze. Maybe it was red paint?

“U-uh, Tate?” You muttered, feeling already bewildered by the sight. You tried not to jump into conclusions, although you knew Tate and he has always been… Secretive.. And aggressive, of course.

After your boyfriend heard your shaky whisper, he stopped moving, even if he wanted to keep going. “Hm?”

“What’s this?” Tate sighed and pulled out from you, not understanding what you meant.

“What’s what?”

Without saying anything else to him, you grabbed the shirt and touched the weird stain. It was still fresh. You took your fingers to your mouth to taste it; and the metallic tang was too obvious. “Tate, what the fuck is this!?”

You threw it at him. Freaked out, you stood up and picked up your clothes, putting them on again, all meanwhile Tate connected the dots and realized he was probably going to get caught.

“Wait, Y/N! It’s not what it looks like, I swear, damn it!” He yelled and grabbed your arm, not wanting you to leave like this. He had to save his reputation, he couldn’t let you think bad of him even if you had all the right. Because, why the fuck the fabric was soaked in blood?

“Then what is it, Tate? WHY DOES IT HAVE SO MUCH BLOOD!?”

“CALM DOWN, PLEASE!”

You attempted to get away from his grip, struggling with him until, somehow, you managed to do so. However, you tripped with his dirty shoes and fell, realizing they were also stained with the red liquid. “Tate, what…? Why? What is this?”

“Nothing, I swear!” He didn’t have any excuses. Saying it was paint would’ve been lame. You were too smart and he knew lying wasn’t a good choice.

Feeling overwhelmed with the matter, you went downstairs, walking as fast as you could. Passing through the living room, a very familiar bag caught your eye. It was definitely Peter’s. You decided to grab it and realized it had his phone inside. Something was off.

Tate was standing behind you; fists clenched and heart beating like crazy. He tried to approach you, still thinking about what to do or what to say.

“Tate… What is this doing here? Peter’s here?”

“Huh? Yeah… He— He came earlier and had to go soon, he left this accidentally, yup…” You could see him fidgeting with that ring on his finger, again.

“Bullshit!”

Tate scowled and grabbed your chin, making you look at his dark orbs. “Tell me, Y/N, do you trust me or not, huh? Look me in the eyes and say you don’t!”

The struggle continued for what seemed eternity. You trying to run away from the house and he trying to make you stay. “Please, Y/N, just listen to me!”

“You did something to him, right? I know him, Tate! He would NEVER leave his phone like this! Is this a joke?”

“Why do you care so much about that asshole!? What has he done for you!? Tell me!”

“Oh my, you’re jealous! I knew it! All that crap about being his friend was a lie, right? Tate, you’re being delusional! I can have friends, I can hang out with whoever I want, whether you like it or not!”

Tate pressed your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, squeezing the flesh with his veiny, big hand, pressing it tightly enough to leave the mark of his long digits on it.

“You can’t! You’re mine. Only mine. Since the day you were born you were meant to be mine. Not his, not anybody, just me.”

“Tate… We should end this…” You thought this was the best for both. Being in a relationship with him was draining; always being careful to not hurt him, make him jealous or mad. He was such a sensitive boy that always took everything too personally. He felt everything a little too much.

Since the beginning you knew he was unstable and that he had many issues, but you tried to see beyond his sick mind, you tried to understand him despite being so different.

Tate felt so safe with you. You were the only person who understood him, or at least made attempts to.

He felt rejected by the entire society, even by his own mother, until he met you and he had a minimum spark of hope that the world didn’t suck that much.

That’s why he clung to you. That’s why you were his everything. He would lose his mind if you leave him.

He felt like dying when he heard you wanted to finish the relationship.

He couldn’t breathe.

Some tears were now falling to the floor, his eyes puffy and an ugly frown on his face. His mouth twisted as he sobbed loudly, tugging the hem of your shirt while he begged you to stay. He was crying like a newborn, like a baby who had to be apart from his mother for a second.

“No no no no, you can’t do this to me!” He whimpered, his speech cracking as he tried to hold you close whilst you were stepping back. You were slipping through his fingers, you were leaving him.

“Tate, if something happened to Peter, I will never forgive you! Can’t you see you’re hurting me?”

Tate swore he would never hurt you, nor let anyone. But here he was, finally snapping out of it and seeing the cruel truth.

“You’ve been hurting me the whole time, Tate! I tried to understand you, I really did, I tried to help you, to save you from yourself! But it’s impossible. I’m losing myself here with you, I don’t even know who I am anymore! You don’t want help, do you? ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what I do, you’re never satisfied! You suffocate me!”

All those words were like daggers penetrating his skin, touching his nerves and making him die of pain. You were tearing him apart, just the way he was destroying you.

He finally let go of you, feeling a tornado of emotions. Tate felt depressed, mad, resentful, like he was going crazy. Though, he knew he had to leave if that’s what you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to break another promise.

Thereby, he confessed his crimes to you. He explained he killed his mom’s partner a few days ago, and that now he had killed your friend. Why? He was jealous, he was scared you’d left him. You did it before you discovered the cruel reality, anyways. That’s why he told you. Because he couldn’t lose anything else.

The situation was utterly disgusting. Tate was sick. He murdered an innocent man and then proceeded to fuck you, as it was the maximum test of love, as if his life meant nothing.

You knew he wasn’t what people often considered “normal”. But this was definitely more than just being a “weirdo”. Tate needed psychiatric help… And being arrested, of course.

“You make me wanna puke, Tate! You’re the evil!”

Without hesitating, you left Tate behind, running as fast as you could from that living hell.

You just wanted to cry, curl up into a ball and wake up from this nightmare. You wished it was merely a bad dream.

Tomorrow morning, you’d go to the police, but for now you needed to sleep.

Monday morning, 11:05

You couldn’t sleep all night. You spent hours thinking about everything, about how this looked like a cruel joke to you. Eventually, you fell asleep at 4AM, and didn’t wake up at what seemed almost midday.

An intense sound of police sirens woke you from your slumber. Startled by the loud noise, you rubbed your eyes and went to the window, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Police cars and SWAT vans were going in a specific direction… Towards Tate’s street. It couldn’t be, right?

Did his mother find the corpse? Or perhaps something else?

You looked at the clock, realizing it was late and you had to go to class.

08:00

After the most painful night of his life, Tate decided today everything would be over.

He had to cleanse the world… To take people to somewhere else, to some place full of peace away from the piss and the vomit that runs down the streets.

He was doing this not only because of your breakup, but also because of many other reasons. Your split up was the straw that broke the camel and drove him to the edge.

10:40

After shooting the school, Tate left the place, looking unfazed about what he just did. He was unhinged.

He peacefully got into his place, went to his room and stayed there for some minutes.

The blond sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the gun right next to him and stared at nothing. His gaze was empty, but also there were some tears threatening to spill.

His mind was a whirlwind. Some part of him was satisfied, but the other was confused, wondering what was he thinking, what had he done?

What would you think of him now? Were you even there? Did he kill you too and he didn’t even notice?

In the end, he recognized he indeed was the evil you said. Damn it. You were right, again, as ever.

Tate wanted to hear your voice, to comfort him, to hear you saying everything was okay. That he’d be okay. He desired to hear “I love you” from you once more.

11:15

You went downstairs to find your family apparently mourning you.

They thought you were at school when the shooting happened. They believed you were gone, but here you were.

Eventually, they explained to you what happened.

The first thing that popped into your mind was Tate’s wellbeing, still unaware that he was the culprit. You were afraid something terrible could’ve happened to him, you were regretting your last words to him, but you also had to get him prisoner.

Your heart dropped when they explained to you he was the shooter.

No, it couldn’t be possible.

It was possible. After all, he had already killed two men.

Even if you despise what he did, some part of you still longed for him, still was in love with his once kind heart.

A terrifying feeling of dread filled your body, making you feel numb, as if none of this was real…

11:25

After running to Tate’s house and seeing it surrounded by the cops and the SWAT team, everything stopped. Constance’s distressed cries and pleas were heard from outside, followed suit by the sound of bullets. It was over now.

Tate was certainly a troubled individual who dedicated his entire life to searching for something, to feel something, to feel loved.

All he asked for was love, to be loved, to love. All he wanted was you.

But at the same time, your love led him to an never-ending obsession that ultimately broke both of you.

He became your biggest regret.

All he feared, all his nightmares came true. Everything he was so afraid of was him and only himself.

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