#make him feel all important and loved (as he should be)

[candy69gurl]

Noncon w gojo but reader is resisting the whole time so he ends up tying them down. And he’s not even trying to be nice about it, he’s degrading her and choking her all that stuff 🤭

BREAKPOINT

PAIRING yandere Gojo Satoru x f!reader

WARNING non/con, unhealthy relationship (red flag Gojo), use of vulgar words, manipulation, humiliation, fingering on kitchen counter, bondage (hands only), blowjob, cumming in mouth, raw sex, breeding kink, orgasm denial, forcing to say stuffs, clit rubbing, pussy eating, nipple play, choking, degradation, lactation kink, multiple orgasms, oversensitivity, creampie, manhandling, so much yanderee

NOTE twitter link here.. sorry for posting late

Dating Gojo, the incredibly good-looking and powerful guy, isn't as simple as you'd think. He frequently reminds you of your perceived inferiority compared to him, and that he could find someone better.

Every time you're with him, he's makes you feel insecure. He keeps putting you down for your mistakes and flaws, always reminding you of all the things he can do that you can only dream about. He often says mean things about how you look and what you can do, making you feel like you're not good enough for him. Even though he's rude and acts like he doesn't care, Gojo still wants you around, making sure you know he's more important in your life.

He's always flirting with other people, which makes it clear he doesn't respect you. When he's with his friends, he completely ignores you, leaving you feeling invisible and unimportant. Your feelings never seem to be a priority for him. It's clear he's more focused on other things, yet he still wants you to stay. You're beginning to realize this relationship isn't healthy for you, but you still crave his approval and validation, hoping he'll see you as worthy.

Your best friend advises, 'You should leave him, girl.'"

"But I love him," you counter.

"But does he love you?"

You stay quiet. Gojo's words may say one thing, but his actions speak differently. Your best friend is right; you realize you need to do something about it. So you send him a text asking to meet at your place, you need to talk to him over this.

Satoru arrives at your house, his long legs carrying him up to the door with an air of confidence. Knowing he's the strongest sorcerer in the world makes him feel untouchable. As he knocks on the door, a thrill of excitement courses through him, anticipating what awaits inside. The familiar scent of your perfume greets him as you open the door, and he smirks, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

He takes off his dark blue jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a nearby chair. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, taking in your appearance before he speaks in a low voice, ... "Been missing my dick, huh?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you snap, glaring at him. He smirks, stepping closer to you, his body heat enveloping you as he looms over you.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Satoru repeats, a hint of amusement in his voice. He raises an eyebrow, letting the question hang between them, challenging you to elaborate. When he doesn't get an immediate response, he crosses his arms, sitting on your couch and regarding you with a cocky grin.

"So, why the fuck did you call me if you're gonna give me this attitude? " he asks, feigning ignorance. His eyes gleam mischievously, daring you to confront him about your issues head-on.

You stand there, silent for a moment, searching for the words to express your frustration. Before you can say anything, Satoru turns away, sauntering towards your kitchen like he owns the place. He opens the fridge, pulling out a beer and cracking it open with a satisfying sound. Your heart pounds in your chest, your frustration mounting as he drinks it so casually.

As he turns back to you, he raises an eyebrow, the unopened beer in his hand. "You gonna talk, or are you just gonna stand there?" he asks.

"This...this relationship isn't working," you finally manage to utter, your voice wavering slightly. Satoru freezes mid-drink, the beer halfway to his lips. The surprise in his eyes fades quickly, replaced with a cold, hard stare. He sets the beer down on the counter, taking a step towards you.

"Break up?" He repeats, the word hanging in the air like a challenge. "You think you can just toss me aside like an old toy?" He growls, his eyes burning with anger. The force of his personality filled the room, making it hard to breathe. Satoru leans in, his face inches from yours, his blue eyes burning with a fire that matched his temper.

"You better think twice about this, princess," He snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Once you break things off with me, you'll be all alone. No one is going to love you."

"I'm sure," you say firmly, standing your ground despite the fear in your chest. Satoru's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flickering in their depths. He steps back, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

"Did you find someone better than me?" He asks, his voice dripping with disbelief and accusation. The air around you thickens, the tension palpable. Satoru crosses his arms, leaning against the counter, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt. "Tell me... Is his dick bigger than mine?"

You shake your head, your voice trembling as you reply, "No, I just..." Satoru cuts you off, gripping your wrist harshly and pulling you towards the counter. You gasp in surprise, trying to pull away, but his grip is too strong.

He pushes you down on the counter, his dick pressing against your ass, the intensity of the contact leaving you breathless. His eyes bore into yours, the challenge in them undeniable. "Does he fuck you better than me?" he growls, his lips grazing your ear.

You struggle against him, your heart racing as you beg him to let you go. "Please, Satoru...let me go!" You plead, your voice shaking with fear and desperation. Satoru chuckles, his grip tightening around your wrist.

"Not until you realise, what a huge mistake you did by making me mad." he growls, grinding his erection against your ass harder. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to defy him.

Satoru pulls down your pants, revealing your ass. He smacks it hard, the sting of his hand making you yelp in shock. Before you can react, he slides his long, cold fingers inside you, groaning softly at the wetness he finds. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he mocks you, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, well, looks like someone wants more of my cock even after saying she wants a break." He chuckles, twisting his fingers inside you roughly. His eyes are full of malicious.

You can't help but moan in spite of yourself, your body betraying your intentions. Your mind screams at you to fight back, but your body responds to his touch, betraying your resolve. Satoru's grin widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Looks like you can't resist me, princess," he taunts, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you. "Maybe you don't want a break, maybe you just want me to praise you while I go down on you."

Satoru grips your head tighter against the counter, his fingers thrusting into you relentlessly. Your body buckles under the onslaught, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. You moan loudly, unable to hold back your pleasure.

Within moments, you're screaming his name, your body convulsing as you cum hard. Satoru watches you with a satisfied smirk, his thumb rubbing your clit in time with his fingers. He continues to thrust into you, milking every last drop of your pleasure.

Satoru carries you mercilessly to your bedroom, leaving you with no time to rest. He quickly sets you down on the bed and his hands rich to unzip his pants. Desperate to get away, you try to crawl away, but he grabs your ankle and uses his weight to pin you down. With a flick of his wrist, he removes his blindfold, revealing his piercing blue eyes. Your heart races, fear and desire warring within you as he takes his blindfold and ties your hands above your head, effectively immobilizing you.

"Please, stop!" you plead, tears streaming down your face as you beg him to release you. "I'm sorry, I take back everything I said! I don't want this!" Your words hang in the air, heavy with regret and fear.

Satoru leans down, his gaze hard and unwavering. "The only sorry I accept is by your mouth showing me how sorry it is by sucking me off." He growls, his finger tracing the shape of your lips. Your heart races and your body trembles at the command.

He pulls himself in front of your head, and you hesitate, your heart racing in your chest. The room spins around you, and the scent of him overwhelms you. You understand you have no choice but to obey, swallow your pride, and submit.

Taking a deep breath, you wrap your lips around his shaft and reluctantly start sucking him off. Satoru growls in approval, his hand entwined in your hair, guiding you. Your mind screams at you to resist, but your body obeys him, your mouth moving rhythmically, pleasing him.

As you continue to suck him off, Satoru's grip in your hair tightens. His movements become more erratic, his breaths growing heavier. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're determined to make this quick, hoping he'll release you soon.

You rest your head, waiting for him to untie you. But instead, he parts your legs, grinning wickedly as he rubs his cock against your clit. You flinch, but he doesn't hesitate. With a swift movement, he pushes into you, stretching you painfully. A cry escapes your lips, tears streaming down your face. You beg him, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Please, be gentle..."

Gojo grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Well, well, I thought you'd be fucking other guys, but you're still tight as hell." He says, thrusting harder into you. "Feels so fucking good." His voice is thick with lust, his movements becoming more aggressive.

Your body tenses, your mind spinning in the turmoil of conflicting emotions. You're angry, yet you can't deny the pleasure he brings you. His words fill you with shame, your skin burning with embarrassment. Despite your struggles, his grip on you is ironclad. You moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure washing over you as he continues to thrust into you. Your mind screams for him to stop, but your body betrays you, responding to his touch.

Every thrust is a reminder of your weakness, your inability to resist him. You can't help but wonder who else he's been with, who else has shared in this intimacy. A wave of jealousy washes over you, your heart beating wildly.

"Fuck, you're gushing," he growls, his hips thrusting into you with increasing intensity. He reaches down, pushing your top along with bra up, his fingers roughly pinching your nipple, twisting it. Your eyes widen, a gasp escaping your lips. "Yet you say you don't want it?" He grunts, his voice thick with dominance.

You can't help but moan, your body betraying your anger. His words echo in your mind, reminding you of your place. Despite your struggling, your body responds to his touch, your clit throbbing with each thrust.

Gojo mocks you, his voice dripping with venom. "What's that, are you enjoying it, slut?" He asks, his movements becoming more frenzied. "You think you can find someone better than me? Someone who fucks you better than me?"

His words cut deep, your heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You can't help but moan, your body betraying your anger. He laughs, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"Look at you, begging for my cock, you worthless slut." Gojo sneers, his movements growing rougher. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world, and you think you can insult me? Ha!" He laughs, his eyes shining with malicious delight. "Listen up", he slows down his thrust making sure you listen to him instead of moaning, "Don't you dare bring that "break up" again, I own you, I own this pussy, I own your fucking heart, I know it, you love my baby and I love you too.. So let's.. let's be like before, me and you, together.. We can have a baby too, our own family .. so beautiful.", with that he starts pumping into you again hard and fast, desperate to fill you with his fertile seed.

Your cheeks burn with shame, your toes curling as his thrusts grow stronger and rougher, and just before you hit your orgasm, he pulls out, "That's what you get for disobeying me."

You gasp, your pussy gripping on to him as he pulls out. "That's what you get for disobeying me," he growls, his eyes blazing with anger. You feel a wave of disappointment wash over you, your orgasm cut short.

He stands over you, his chest heaving, his gaze locked on your face. You shrink under his gaze not daring to question him why he stopped, you know everything is your fault. NO, he made you believe everything is your fault, but you cannot help but accept it, you cannot help but accept his cock inside you.

Gojo leans down, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Look at you, clenching around nothing, desperate for my cock." He mocks, his hands gripping your thighs. "Worthless slut."

He licks your clit, a cruel smirk on his face. You whimper, your body trembling with need. His tongue teases your clit, your moans growing louder. He chuckles, enjoying your helplessness.

Gojo's hand glides over your body, his touch electric. "Do you want me to finish you off?" His voice is a combination of cruelty and seduction.

Your heart races, your body trembling with need. You nod, unable to speak, your mind filled with a mix of shame and lust. He grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Gojo raises an eyebrow, his gaze locked on your face. "Beg for it, slut." He demands, his voice thick with lust.

You hesitate, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. He slaps your pussy, making you jolt. "Beg," he repeats, his voice cold.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding, "please, make me cum..." You whisper, your voice barely audible.

Gojo's eyes squint, "Hmm, how about you say you love me 69 times then I will think of it."

Your eyes widen, your heart racing with a mix of anger and desperation. You know you have to do it. "I love you," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." Your voice grows stronger as you continue, each 'I love you' more genuine than the last.

Gojo watches you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He leans down, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of your clit. "Keep going.." He orders, his voice rough with desire

You nod, your face heating up with desire and shame. "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." You repeat, your voice growing stronger with each word.

Gojo's tongue traces your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. You moan, your body trembling with need. He smiles, his eyes locked on your face. "Good girl," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

He slips two fingers inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Keep going..."

Your heart races, your body trembling, "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." You repeat, your voice growing stronger with each word.

Gojo's fingers slide inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. You moan, your body shaking with need. He smiles, his eyes locked on your face. "Yes.. yes" He encourages, his voice rough with desire.

You continue to profess your love, your body trembling with a mix of desire and shame.

After what feels like an eternity, Gojo slides his fingers out, replacing them with his tongue. You whimper, your body trembling with anticipation.

He licks your clit, his tongue tracing the curve of your most sensitive spot. "Good girl," he praises you, his voice thick with lust. "Sixty-nine times, I counted each 'I love you.'" He chuckles, his eyes locked on your face. "That's a lot of love for me, baby," he teases, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now, let's make you cum."

His tongue traces the your walls, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes locked on your face for your reaction. "You taste so good, so wet and needy."

Your abdomen shaking as you move your hips against his face, you cry out, your body trembling with pleasure as you cum. You collapse there, your heart pounding with a mix of ecstasy and shame.

"Untie me now," you plead, your voice shaking with emotion. But Gojo shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, "Nah uh, not till I cum, filling your little pussy."

He inserts himself back inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your pussy is oversensitive, making you cry out in pain. "No more," you beg, your voice filled with desperation.

Gojo grits his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as he feels your walls clenching around him uncontrollably. He slows his pace, allowing you time to adjust to your oversensitivity.

As you recover, he starts thrusting into you, his movements slow and deliberate at first. His pace gradually increases, his eyes locked on your face. "You like being a slut for your boyfriend, isn't?" He growls, his voice thick with lust.

You moan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Yes," you admit, not caring about your self respect anymore.

As he thrusts into you, his movements become faster, his eyes locked on your face. "Good girl," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "You're such a good little slut, aren't you?"

You moan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Yes," you admit, not caring about your self-respect anymore. "I'm your little slut."

Gojo chuckles, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Hmphh, keep squeezing me.. A-ah," he growls, his pace increasing even more.

Your eyes roll at the way he's choking and fucking you like a monster, his hands around your neck, his thrusts relentless. Gojo leans down, his lips colliding with yours in a rough kiss.

You moan into his mouth, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and fear. He pulls back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. You gonna cum again, aren't you?," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

You groan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and fear. "Yes.. Hngh- please I am gonna cum again" You admit, your voice shaking with emotion.

As he thrusts into you, his movements become frenzied. "Y/N, let's... try it again.. together... Can't you imagine? How lovely you will look with your tummy swollen and round with my baby, and milk flowing from your breasts. Just think of it", he bites his lips imaging all of that. He unties your hands, letting them grip onto anything they find.

Your mind is unable to make out his words, you just nod, taking his cock like a doll.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your skin as he sucks on your nipple. "Gonna fill you, hmmph," whimpers escape his lips, "You are so obedient for me baby."

As Gojo nears his climax, his thrusts become frantic, his movements fierce. You cry out, your body trembling with pleasure and pain.

His thrusts become stronger, his movements more intense. Your walls clench around him, milking him as you cum again. He roars, his eyes locked on your face. "Yes, cum for me, baby, cum for your strongest boyfriend," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

He fills you with his seed, his movements slowing as he finishes. "You did well, baby," he pants, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He loosens his grip on your neck, allowing you to breathe.

You collapse against him, your heart racing with a mix of pleasure and fear. "F' me, am your little.. slut.. ." You whisper, before passing out .

Gojo's lips caress your bruised neck, licking them before giving you a small peck on your lips. "I love you, Y/N, I appreciate you," he mutters, his voice thick with lust. "But I ain't gonna spoil you."

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you fall asleep in each other's arms, exhausted from the passionate night.

In the darkness of the night, he whispers in your ear, "Never gonna let you escape me, my little play thing."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #gojo jjk #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo angst #yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere gojo #yandere jjk

[berryzxx]

Not yet

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your not ready to tell Azriel's family your mates in fear of them not liking you

note: It's just Az being the standard and the cutest shit ever. Also its pretty short im sorry lovelies <3

"I don't want to. Not yet" I murmured to Azriel, snuggling closer to his warmth. His hands ran up and down my back, sending small shivers down my spine.

"And why is that, sweetheart?" He replied, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woken up, pressing small kisses to my face. I opened my eyes and tried to get used to the light in the room. It was a Saturday, one of the days Azriel was content to just lie in bed with me with no commitments for the rest of the day.

"I just...I don't think they'll like me. I know it's stupid but I don't know them well enough. What if they think I'm using you or don't actually love you? What if they convince you that I'm not good enough?" I waited for him to say something. I didn't usually have anything bad to say against his family but I was never comfortable around new people. Especially if they were such important figures in our court. A slight sigh left his lips "Y/n. Do you really think I'd stop loving you if one of them told me to?...not that they would"

I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his heat suddenly too much. "No but it's not just that. Imagine I say something wrong. I know their your family but their also high lord and lady. What if I say something...I don't know politically wrong? They'll laugh at me and think how in the world are us two mates."

Azriel moved his arm around my waist and pulled me back to lay down on the bed, his hand moving through my hair in a soothing motion. "They will think nothing of the sort because you are perfect. But if it makes you feel better we can wait for as long as you want. Feyre was talking about inviting the wonderful florist tomorrow. Accept her offer and get to know everyone a bit"

I thought about it and slowly nodded my head. "Fine."

Azriel was right because Feyre did invite me the next day.

"Y/n! Oh these are gorgeous! You've outdone yourself" Feyre said admiring the bouquet I had prepared

I smiled and handed her the card with all my business details "Thank you high lady. If anyone asks where you got them from please give them this."

"Feyre, please. No formalities between us"

I nodded my head "Feyre it is then"

She turned her attention to the rest of the shop looking around the flower filled store "You have such a peaceful life. Living amongst flowers and smelling like roses all the time"

I let out a small laugh. Very peaceful. Sometimes a little too peaceful. "I suppose. Although it get's boring at times"

Feyre's eyes lit up in excitement "You should come to dinner tonight! It'll be something different for you and we can get to know each other more"

I thought about what me and Azriel had discussed earlier. Now was the perfect opportunity, to meet his family. "Oh...I don't want to intrude. I don't know-"

She shook her head "Nonsense. Your coming tonight. Everyone will be scrambling over each other to get to know you"

I looked around the store, hoping for a sign as to what I should do. The only sign I could see however was the open sign on the front door.

"Fine. I'll come. Thank you the for the invite high- Feyre"

She beamed and gave me a quick hug, slightly surprising me before walking out with her bouquet of flowers. I sighed. Well I suppose I better go home and change so I looked slightly decent at least.

*Dinner, a few hours later*

Azriel cleared his throat slightly before continuing "Did you want something lov- y/n?"

I paused and clenched my jaw at the slip up. The chatter at the table was luckily loud enough for no one to quiet hear what he was saying. This was the first time I had been happy for Cassian's loud voice. I shook my head "I'll get it myself, thank you" I reached over and picked up the dish, adding a few potatoes to my plate, trying not to gather attention towards us two. Really. Azriel wasn't very good at following instructions. If someone had heard that I don't know what I would have done.

Probably jumped out a window or something.

"Everything alright?" Rhys asked looking over at me first, then Azriel and then me again. I nodded my head quickly and gave him a smile "Fine, everything's fine" Azriel didn't reply merely nodding in agreement too.

I let out a sigh of relief when he turned away and took a sip of his wine. Luckily dinner passed with no other accidents happening. I watched as everyone took their seats in the living room, Feyre and Rhys cuddled up on the couch while the others sprawled here and there, Elain having gone up because of a headache.

Azriel stood half hidden by his shadows in the door way, I could sense him even though I couldn't see him without squinting my eyes.

Come to the kitchen. It's important

His voice echoed in my mind, his deep and low voice making me miss him even though he was just inches away. I got up making an excuse of needing water and walked over to the kitchen, past the dining room where we had just sat. Before I could process what was happening I was against a wall and Azriel's lips were on mine, his shadows cocooning us in a dark and peaceful bubble. He kissed me like he was starving and he couldn't get enough.

We finally pulled apart my hands resting on his chest "Azriel" I warned him, the lust filled look in his eyes ready to devour me. His hands ran up and down my body, my waist, my hips warming each part of me.

"I want to tell them. I want to tell them about my perfect and beautiful mate." He whispered his eyes dark and his hair falling forward onto his forehead. I pushed a strand away "I can't right now. I'm not ready"

I knew even if I shook my head once Azriel would understand. His hopeful expression dropped slightly but his lips remained in a small smile "Let me take you home now, sweetheart. I can't live without having you close to me"

I rolled my eyes but smiled all the same "Don't be so dramatic"

He didn't reply, instead tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "We're going" He said finally and winnowed us on the spot. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone but all thoughts left me as Azriel looked at me with his devilishly handsome grin.

ignore any mistakes <3

tag list: @thelov3lybookworm @fieldofdaisiies @sheblogs @one-big-fangirl @kennedy-brooke

@slut4acotar @cupidojenphrodite @artists-ally @thehighladywrites @claireswritingcorner

@milswrites @riddlesb1tch

#berryfics #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar azriel #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader fluff #azriel fluff #feyre #acotar fanfiction #azriel fic #azriel imagine #shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster x y/n

[lunajay33]

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #daryl dixion smut #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fluff #twd season 3 #the walking dead negan

[undead-supernova]

Bummer! / Masterlist / 18+

part 1 / part 2

Playlist

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

plot: you invite eddie out to a party with you and your best friend and it's all perfect...right?

contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader, dirty dancing/making out, hints at past trauma, arguing, underlining slut shaming, lots of heavy petting and fluffy feelings

note: we're up to part 3 already?! with part 4 already in the works?! who even am I anymore!!! thank you to both @littlexdeaths and @jo-harrington for being my biggest supporters and encouraging me to keep going. this is for you both !!!!

song inspo: the song in this chapter is Tití Me Preguntó by Bad Bunny. It is an absolute bop (also he is so hot it’s not even funny)

wc: 5.6k

“Your life sounds like fan fiction.”

You let out a high-pitched scoff, taking Aron’s stuffed octopus by the tentacles and whacking her with it.

“Shut up!”

Aron chuckled, throwing her hands up. “Hey, I never said that was a bad thing!”

You and Aron, your best friend since freshman year, were perched on her bed, all cross-legged and giggly, recounting the last few weeks with Eddie. When you finally told Aron about him, she was livid. How could you not tell your best friend about a really hot guy you’d been seeing who wasn’t an asshole? 

“He’s just so good,” you said with a content smile, throwing your head back on the bed like a girl in a 2000s romantic comedy. “I can’t believe I got this lucky.”

“Yeah, I’d feel lucky too if I had a guy playing guitar for me and tasted like cinnamon and beauty and stuff.”

Your smile widened, the phantom touch of his lips already having imprinted itself on your mouth. “He’s just so nice. And I feel like he gets me, you know? He sees me for me, not for my body or whatever. Plus, we have the same taste in music and movies and…” A soft sigh left your lips as you shrugged. “He just makes me happy, I don’t know.”

Aron leaned over, smiling down at you. The beads at the end of her long braids clinked together as she shook her head at you. “Well, I’m very happy this Eddie is making my best friend all gooey and soft for once.”

You rolled your eyes but you both knew you really appreciated the affirmation. Sometimes you needed that extra assurance, Aron’s opinion being maybe the most important to you—besides your own. When you’d met her at that dreaded Halloween party, all tattered clothes and broken sobs, Aron was quick to help you. Without questions, without judgment. A stranger helping a stranger before becoming best friends within a week.

Before you could get lost in the cold memory, Aron clapped her hands and gasped.

“You should invite him to the party!”

You sat up, furiously nodding. “Oh my God, yes! I completely forgot.”

“It’ll be fun.” You nodded, watching as her nose began to crinkle. “Unless you sneak off to go make out or something.”

Your apologetic smile that turned a little too exaggerated made her groan.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” you said, feigning a sensual tone as you made kissy noises and reached out to tickle her.

She hit you with the octopus (that poor octopus), causing you both to laugh. “You tell me about every fucking kiss, bitch.”

Grabbing it from her, you smirked and said, “And you love hearing about it.”

Aron shrugged. “True. I’m too nosey for my own good.”

“And I’m too honest,” you added, giving her a high-five.

“So, the party?”

You hadn’t felt this way since you were fourteen, running around the football field late at night with Trent Summers, lost in the throes of an unrequited crush. Lost in an all-American fantasy of dating a boy on the football team when you hadn’t even made the cheer squad. Getting your heart broken after he told you he had a girlfriend. You ended your friendship right then and there—resulting in you throwing a football at his face.

Mary Winston had been next, all braces and crooked smiles. Sweet sixteens and discovered identities. You’d met in the art room during lunch, fawning over some TV show before realizing that there was something more there. It didn’t last long, but you swore you’d love her till the day you died. And if anyone had access to your tear-stained diary, they’d know it was very dramatic. Very dramatic.

(Come to think of it, you’d felt something bubbly inside you for Eliza Roseheart in preschool. Playing “husband and wife” and pecking each other on the lips shouldn’t have been as fun as it was.)

Now there was Eddie Munson, the guy who walked you to class and got you coffee just because. At night, you hopped in his van and went on drives. An hour and a half of scream-singing that always ended up with feverish make out sessions by the dock of a lake, the windows fogging up despite the humid heat just beyond those doors. Gnashing teeth as you both giggled your way through can we play 20 Questions? and can I tell you another secret? in between kisses. Helping him down from orgasms after some whispers and heavy, heavy petting, caressing his face in your hands as you told him how good of a job he did. Tracing the lines of his face as you teetered in and out of sleep. Feeling his lips on your forehead as he helped you back into your dorm.

You were never one to believe in good luck. After years of being thrown to the wolves and caged inside a dungeon you built yourself, this nerdy little goofball had coaxed you away from the bars. Led you from a state of hidden solitude, only to welcome you with warm sun and sweaty palms.

All you knew now was that you wanted him. Always.

“We’ll be there.”

Eddie felt naked without his jacket.

As a matter of fact, he felt a bit out of character. A dark, dark purple Black Sabbath tee was paired with his regular black jeans, combat boots, and wallet chain. The same rings and bracelets.

But his jacket. He knew he’d have to leave it with this weather. Smelling bad wasn’t an option tonight, especially meeting your best friend. The less he fucked up his appearance, the less he had to worry about fucking up in general.

So he hung up his favorite boy and left his dorm with bare arms. Followed his heart all the way to your dorm.

Had your roommate greet him, a giggle escaping her lips as soon as she saw him. Aron, as he learned, was quick to pull him into conversation as you finished up getting ready. Though you called down the hallway to them, he still couldn’t calm his anxiety.

Meeting new people didn’t bode well for him.

And yet he was proven wrong—their conversation was as easy as breathing, exchanging thoughts on their favorite video games and how legendary Black Sabbath was.

“Oh, I like you,” she said at one point and laughed at the blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m glad you already know that’s a compliment of the highest degree.”

He’d thought he got his groove back. He really did. But then he heard your heels echoing through the hallway and looked over at your figure coming closer. Eddie immediately shot up out of his seat at the sight of you.

Your dress was one he hadn’t seen before, a satin black spaghetti-strapped dress that hugged your curves just right. A patch at the bottom showed a red rose, circled by a silver snake. Black heels and an array of rings. No necklace, no earrings. Smokey-eyed and gloss-lipped.

“Fucking hell.”

Both girls broke out into laughter.

He wanted to hit himself. Could he once, just once, keep his mouth shut?

“Sorry,” he added.

You shook your head, stepping closer. “Don’t be. I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received, so thank you.”

Eddie nearly missed Aron skipping off to her room when you pulled him into a hug. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, letting his arms wrap around your back. Even after all these weeks, he found that he could never get used to your embrace. Your skin against his, the fizzle of something electric jumping between your bodies.

“You look amazing, by the way,” you whispered in his ear before pulling back. He was pretty sure your smile was just as goofy as his. “I love your shirt.”

“Thought you might,” he responded with a small laugh. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, but stopped himself. “Sorry.”

Your smile faltered as confusion flooded your face. “For what?”

Before he could apologize again, Aron was skipping back into the room and clapping her hands together.

“Alright, let’s boogey.”

You were quick to settle into the party, the three of you standing in one corner or another, laughing over really anything you could think of. Aron was sure to point out everyone who was cool and everyone who was not, giving Eddie a crash course in the party scene that always felt a little too high school for your taste. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to bother with that stuff which you liked. There was nothing worse than watching someone lose themselves in fair-weather friends.

Two drinks in, Aron left to go find some other friends of hers, reiterating that they were part of the Cool Crowd. It left you and Eddie to your own devices, with your exaggerated bantering and light shoves. Touches that felt like electric shocks, the voltage only increasing with each jab. At some point, you had to wonder if that’s why you both kept doing it.

Then, in the middle of threatening to tickle him, you heard the starting sounds of a Bad Bunny song you liked. Leaning your head back, you let out a satisfied “Yes!”, watching as people quickly gathered near the speakers.

Eddie looked at you, confused.

You merely chuckled, taking his hand and leading him over to the small crowd.

“Let’s dance!”

Your hand grasped his over your shoulder, just like that night you met. It was a feeling like no other, Eddie’s heart hammering in his chest. And, God, he really couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

He was happy. He was having fun.

“I don’t know how to dance to this kind of music!” he admitted loudly, a smile still plastered on his lips.

But you were far from deterred. “Just follow my lead, pretty boy.”

And just like that, you were turning around and tugging his hands forward until they met your waist. Let yourself lean back on him, grinding your hips as they swayed back and forth.

Effortless. That’s the best way he could describe the way you moved, the way you never missed a beat. The bass pumped and vibrated through Eddie’s limbs, but you seemed to be one with the music.

Dancing wasn’t something unheard of when it came to Eddie. If he was listening to music, chances were that he was shimmying his shoulders or head banging. In a mosh pit, he let himself get jostled around, bopping along to the sound. He may not have had hips like Jagger, but he knew how to move them at least.

However, this was new territory, having a girl, having you in front of him, waiting for him to move. And if he was supposed to move, then god dammit, he was going to move.

Eddie took a deep breath before the beat slowed down. Letting his wired thoughts fade into a soft buzz, doing what he felt was right. Like pulling you tight against his chest and moving his hips at the same time as yours. Pushing himself against your ass, a harsh breath leaving his nose at the friction.

Sighing, you let your head fall back on his shoulder, a content smile lifting onto your lips. Raised your hands, wrapping them around his neck the best you could, rhythm never lost on you.

And it would be just so easy to…

But would you be okay with…

Fuck it.

Shaking his head, he leaned down and began to kiss your neck. Your next sigh was what officially turned him on, pushing him further into your heat wave. Licked a stripe up your neck and tugged on your earlobe with his teeth.

Eddie couldn’t help the thought, the impulse creeping up in this crowded house party to move his fingers just a bit lower, to skirt the hem of your dress that was riding up with each swirl of your hips. He wanted you, cock straining against his jeans in near agony, continuing to litter your neck with love bites as if you were alone.

And just before he could get a little more bold, you were taking his trigger-finger hand and placing it on your thigh, so close to what he could call the inner thigh.

“Is that okay?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He nodded. “Was already headed there, sweetheart. You beat me to it.”

“I took an earlier flight,” you joked.

A breathy chuckle left his lips. “That’s okay. That’s not my last stop anyways.”

Your thigh was soft, full, easy enough to squeeze. So he did, eliciting a high-pitched sigh from you.

A proud smile met your face. So you liked when he took the upper hand.

And, God, if you kept looking at him like that, he was going to start fingering you in front of every fucking person here. Maybe he would. No one was looking at you both, right? He could do it. Just a little bit. Just…just a little bit.

His fingers twitched, raising higher and higher and—

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” a voice said, snapping you out of this moment. You both looked over to see Aron approaching, taking hold of one of your wrists. “But I gotta steal her for a second.”

“Aron!” you exclaimed, holding onto Eddie’s hand as long as you could before Aron dragged you away. Sorry, you mouthed at him before turning back.

You couldn’t help your face growing hot at the feeling of your wetness still sticking to your inner thighs as you parted them.

She didn’t pull you far, but you couldn’t help how pissed you felt. Granted, you weren’t really pissed at her but something was about to happen and you’d been more than happy to just let it.

Eddie was finally taking the upper hand, doing what he wanted. Not just going along with what you told him to do. There was no blind faith or overthought. No, he was showing—initiating. It was euphoric. It was nearly orgasmic…

“What’s going on?” you asked, smoothing out the hem of your dress. And as you stood there fixing yourself, you felt Aron step closer to you.

“Listen, Sam is walking around, drunk as fuck—”

“Big shock there,” you commented, crossing your arms over your chest.

Aron let out a snort. “Yeah, literally. Anyways, he’s talking about how easy you are in bed and keeps telling everyone you’re here with Eddie to make him jealous.”

Sam Covington had been a problem for…a while. Maybe since last summer, when you were…friendly with some of the frat guys’ girlfriends. Got invited out one night and Sam was there, always staring at you from any corner of the room or finding excuses to talk to you. It was fucking creepy.

It was one of those things that sent chills down your spine, the fear for your safety growing with each glance. That voice that made you want to run and hide. The touch that had you wondering if you’d remembered to grab your pepper spray and whistle.

Usually, you were able to stand your ground and hurl insults he couldn’t fathom hearing from a woman. Even the last party you’d seen him at, the one where you had met Eddie…

But it didn’t mean that you felt any more secure.

“Him? Ha!” You exaggerated your tone, trying to keep your voice from shaking. Waved your hand around, desperate to stay calm. “What a fucking joke. He wishes.”

Eddie’s blood ran cold at your mocking tone, taken aback by your blatant degradation. Like a mask had been removed, revealing a forked tongue and razor sharp teeth.

He’d seen your expression, your shoulders turning inward, like you were uncomfortable. He decided to walk over and, sure, it was probably rude. He knew that. However, he couldn’t stand to see you upset. He needed to know what was going on, pulled to you with some tether that he couldn’t explain.

But he regretted it immediately.

Aron chuckled. “If that ain’t the truth, girl.”

“He’s such a fucking loser, I swear. Can’t catch a fucking hint.”

Eddie once thought he’d let go of the anger he once held in high school. The defiant boy that was once riddled with so much frustration at the cruel hand he’d been dealt. The one that jumped up on lunch tables and screamed at whoever would listen. He thought he’d given up on holding onto the bitterness of verbal sucker punches and bruised ribs.

But it was creeping back up, that violent shaking that ran along his arms. The torment of those five brutal years of high school tingling in his fingertips as you continued to desaturate the vibrancy of a man he thought he was becoming.

“Like, why does he have to be so obsessed with you?”

You shrugged and his eyes caught the tail end of your eye roll. “Because he’s so fucking desperate for someone to fuck him. That’s why.”

And before he could stop his head from going there, he was back in that blistering July. The fear of being used goods clutching at his throat as he struggled to speak, struggled to find an escape. 

“Pathetic,” you stated, voice thick with disgust.

That scorching July. Fingers trembling on the doorknob, his sweaty palm slicking it in sweat. Slipping. 

No escape, no escape.

He needed to get out. There was no thought, just action. So, he turned and started stalking towards the front door. Voices in his head spoke over one another, flooding his brain.

Freak. Loser. Dirty. Good for nothing. Desperate. Trailer park trash.

Pathetic.

“Eddie?” he heard behind him, the sound of his name on your lips like a beckoning call, serenading him with its delicacy. 

If he didn’t have a shred of dignity left, he would’ve turned around and come running. But he didn't, instead making a run for the side of the house. Maybe if he hid, he didn’t have to face your humiliation.

And, like he said, he didn’t have to run back…because you were already catching up with him, stopping him in his tracks as you stepped in front of him. How you did that in six inch heels was fucking beyond him.

Placing a hand on his chest, you asked, “What’s wrong?” As your eyes scanned his face, you added, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

But he knew better. 

He did, didn’t he?

“Are you using me?”

You paused, flinching away from his chest as if you’d been burned. “Excuse me?”

“Like…” Eddie started, trying to take a deep breath to keep himself level. But he was starting to falter, all shaky and desperate for you to get it the fuck over with. “Like, if we even fuck, is that it? Will the chase be over for you?”

Your face began to harden, something resembling fury clouding your features. “How fucking dare you think I’d do something like that.”

“It’s just a question!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, and I don’t appreciate you acting like I’m engaging in this relationship just to fuck you and leave.” 

His eyebrows furrowed as his nostrils flared with frustration, both of you holding mirrored expressions. But yours softened first, the edges of your snarl quivering. Shaking your head, you took another step back.

“I like you, Eddie. Okay? I’ve liked you since that first night. We’ve been on, like, three dates now? And I introduced you to my best friend, for Christ’s sake. You make me laugh but you make me so fucking soft, it drives me insane. And those late night drives make these stupid midterms worth it.”

“Oh.”

“Did I really have to spell it out?” Eddie didn’t say anything. “I mean, geez. I thought I’ve been an open book this whole time. I’ve spent practically every day with you. Every night, even. Like, why would I want to be with anyone else? And did you really need me to reiterate all of that?”

“But you told your friend that I’m—”

“What?!” you exclaimed before shaking your head. “No, that was about this frat guy, Sam. He’s been creeping on me again and is spreading fucking rumors and I am getting literally so sick and tired of it.”

The dissipated anger began to creep back up at the thought of some douchebag stalking you. Who the fuck was Sam to not take a fucking hint? And why was it becoming so increasingly hard not to run back into that party and beat the shit out of him?

“A guy’s been creeping on you? Since when?”

You sighed. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

Eddie held up a hand. “Now, hang on. I am going to worry about that, because that’s not nothing.”

“I agree, but that’s a later conversation,” you said, pushing his hand down and shaking your head. “Get to the part where you tell me why you think I’d ever say that about you.”

Eddie was the one to sigh now, pissed that you had to move on but ultimately needed to confess. “I just never thought you’d actually be into me.”

“Why?” you nearly yelled.

“I’m just a fr—”

“Ew! If you say ‘freak’, I’m legally obligated to rip your eyes straight out of your skull.”

A breath escaped his nose as he closed his eyes and tried again. “You just…you’ve dated more people than I have.”

“Based off of what?”

His eyes flew open. “What?” he asked, unsure what you meant.

“You haven’t even bothered to ask me how many people I’ve dated—or fucked, for that matter.” Eddie’s eyes widened. “I’ve had one relationship. One.”

“Really?” he whispered.

You let out a laugh that didn’t match your exhausted expression. “Yeah, for a week until she got nervous about her parents finding out and dumped me. I was sixteen.” Furrowed eyebrows returned to your face as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned towards him dramatically. “What about that, huh? How many people have you dated, Eddie?”

Two. The number was thick in his throat, his verbalization swallowed by your question being, well, rhetorical.

You paused, turning your face away from the light. But he caught your pointer finger flying up to dab your lower lash line. “Like, I’ve had sex, sure. But it’s not like I ask all those guys to fucking harass me. I honestly don’t know how that became a thing here. Like, I’m just here. I’m just trying to have fun.”

The guilt was starting to settle in his chest. “I should’ve caught that.”

“I thought you understood me,” you said before letting out a high-pitched sound of disbelief, lifting your hands and letting them fall at your sides with a loud thwack. “Like, I’m not a slut or a whore or whatever they want to say despite it being the twenty-first fucking century! And I can’t even be with you without some guy trying to—”

He heard it before he saw it. A scoff that shifted into a sob as you crouched down to your knees, only hovering above the ground by your tall heels. 

Eddie had never seen you cry, had never seen the façade so easily broken. This girl he once thought untouchable, invincible, cracking before his eyes.

Looking back to all of those moments, those numerous instances of harassment, how quick you were to send them a message. How easily it came to you, to throw your verbal and physical punches like it was nothing. Like it was a normal thing.

He’d gotten so caught up in how badass you were that he didn’t stop to think about how you felt about it. Or why it came so easily to you.

He crouched down, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’m really sorry. That was really shitty of me.”

He felt you lean into his hand, glad that you weren’t rejecting him. It was lame, but he didn’t think he could handle your rejection right now. Especially when you were in this state. Especially when he was the reason why.

Turning to glance at him through your tears, you said, “Eddie, that really hurt my feelings.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” he said truthfully. “If it means anything, I didn’t think you were a, um, slut or whatever. I just thought maybe you didn’t want me the same way.”

You nodded, sniffling while wiping the snot away from your nose. Never once did you pull away from his touch or grow cold. “Yeah, I get that.” You paused, your eye contact starting to burn him. “I’ve never done any of the shit we’ve done with other people. I’ve only felt that comfortable with you.”

“But you’re just…” he trailed before sighing and closing his eyes. “You’re just so good at it.”

When he heard a loud laugh leaving your lips, his eyes flew open, grateful to see a smile on your face. The laugh turned into a fit of snorts, leaving him to laugh at just how adorable you were.

“Yeah, thanks,” you teased, the familiar tone giving him the ability to breathe again. “It’s a litany of porn, smut, and—” You moved your hands up to mimic the shape of a rainbow. “Imaginaaation.”

The reference got Eddie laughing again, nodding along as he replied, “You could’ve told me you’re a dominatrix on the side and, like, I would’ve believed you. Scout’s honor.”

“Good to know,” you joked.

Eddie stood back up then, shaking his head as he reached a hand out to you. “I’m an asshole.”

You lifted an eyebrow, slowly shaking your head back at him before taking his hand. “You’re more special than you think you are.”

He lifted you up, grasping your palm in his as he brought you closer to him. Your joined hands rested against his heart, faces inches apart. 

There you were, your eyes fully in view now. Watery, with makeup creasing along your waterline and smudged mascara littering your cheeks. Despite the quiet pain it caused him, he was grateful to get a glimpse at your beauty again, your attention still gutting him over and over again.

If he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn he could feel his guts spilling onto the concrete. And when he drew closer, it was made even worse as he felt your heart rate increase in real time.

And, god dammit, he couldn’t help himself. Eddie closed the gap and kissed you. Gently, tentatively. Let himself linger just long enough to inhale your breath before pulling back.

“My god, you’re precious,” he whispered, heart clenching with every feature you softened—the mask slipping. His eyes fell upon your lips, slightly ajar in shock.  

“Yeah?” you whispered, breath hitching when he lightly pushed you against the wall. 

Eddie’s nose skimmed your cheek, desperate to breathe in your perfume. One last whiff. He swore it. Just one more.

Just one more.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed, inhaling your scent again.

It was the last time. Promise. 

“Tell me again,” you pleaded.

He pulled back, catching the clenching of your thighs in his peripheral. A dangerous smile grazed his lips as he gave you what you wanted. 

“You’re precious.”

You nodded repeatedly, doe-eyed as you begged, “Again.”

“You’re precious,” he said, hushed as his lips hovered above yours.

“Please,” you whimpered, legs squirming against his. But he pushed you further into the wall, your connected hands halting your movement. He could feel your heart racing furiously. “One more time.”

“You’re precious, baby.”

Before you could lunge at him, he was a step ahead of you, crushing your lips with his. Released your hand, quick to cup your face as you floundered to find somewhere to put your hands. Taking a page out of your book, he grabbed your wrists and placed them on his shoulders.

A sigh left your lips at the movement, nodding your head as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. What you were nodding about, he had no idea. He didn’t have the ability to have thoughts about anything anymore. 

All he could think was more, more, more.

All he could feel was you.

He couldn’t help himself when he slotted his thigh between yours, earning a deafening moan that made him harder than he already was. You’d moaned, sure. He’d heard you do it plenty of times when you made out. But he was suddenly struck with how different your positions were now. And how he was the reason for it. 

The thought drove him closer to the edge, roughly grabbing at your cheek with one hand while the other slid down your thigh, snaking around your knee and jerking your leg up to his hip. Your gasp made him even crazier, unable to help it when he pushed his thigh further against your core. Another wild whimper, this time with an edge of impatience.

“This okay?” he asked.

You nodded furiously. “Yes. Yes.”

If Eddie had the confidence, he’d take you against this house right now. He’d slide into you with ease, Fucking those little sounds out of you, the ones he dreamed about at night. The ones that would mirror the way you sounded right now, only intensified and louder. 

And yet it was enough to hear your now quiet desperation, to feel your thighs clench around his leg, your soaking pussy dripping through your panties and staining his jeans with ease.

“Jesus, you’re soaked.”

You nodded furiously, seemingly unable to speak as you gasped and chased his lips again. Ground your pussy against his leg. Impatient, hungry.

He couldn’t help but feel greedy, draping himself around you.

Let there be witnesses. Let the whole house hear him, he didn’t care. But those noises, your noises, belonged solely to him. Swallowed by his mouth, muffled by his body shielding yours. The vibrations pulsed through his cheeks and he couldn’t help but let out a low groan.

He noticed you continuing to chase the friction, rubbing yourself along the denim over and over, his jeans being ruined with every rut of your hips. If Eddie hadn’t been drunk off of you before, he was deliriously faded now. Because you were still going, no words leaving your mouth. Just whimpers and moans.

He wanted to say something, wanted to beg you to keep going. But he stayed quiet, knowing that you’d probably stop, keeping yourself from the pleasure he was witnessing. You looked like a goddess, eyes rolling back and, dear god, he needed to mark your neck again. He dipped his head down and began nipping at your skin again, frenzied at the reaction it pulled out of you.

The hitch in your breath caught his attention, moving his face from your neck to see your head thrown back. Your heaving chest was the indicator, the slow build of something beginning inside you. 

“Do it,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

Without any warning, he felt your legs tremble before your cum seeped into his jeans. A cry left your lips as your breath continued at a rapid pace, sweat dripping down your neck. Eddie was quick to lick it up, trying hard not to get on his knees and lap up what was left from the source.

(He was just glad he had enough restraint to resist begging for your underwear to keep for later.)

(The one time he’s able to keep his mouth shut.)

One last whimper left your lips as you came down, chasing the last of your high on his leg before he moved it out of the way. Left a gentle kiss on your forehead before he heard you sniffle.

“S-sorry,” you breathed, tightly squeezing your eyes shut. He came back to the present, leaning back as he watched your face crumble. “Sorry.”

Eddie took your chin between his fingers. “Hey, open your eyes. Look at me.”

At first, you only opened one, like you were testing the waters. He chuckled, earning access to your other eye. “There she is,” he murmured, pecking your nose. “Why’re you apologizing?”

“‘Cause I didn’t ask you if it was okay if I did that.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you pushed his fingers away, covering your mouth with your hand. Shook your head as you added, “I didn’t ask. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“Baby, I would’ve stopped you.” He moved your hand away, lightly stroking your cheek as he continued. “I was honestly scared you would stop.”

Your head cocked towards his, glassy eyes turned clear again. “Why?”

“‘Cause then I wouldn’t have gotten to make you cum.”

A bashful expression immediately fell over your features, shoulders caving inwards as you bit your lip. You tapped your heels against the concrete, one by one, all jittery and shy. It was cute.

“Yeah, I didn’t plan on that, either,” you said. “But you just…”

“Hm?”

You shrugged, sighing. “You kinda fucked with my head.”

“Does that mean I get to finally fuck you?”

Tapping at your cheek, you looked away in feigned contemplation before shaking your head. “Nope. I think I’ll make you work harder to get to see it.”

“Nah, I could prove it right now,” he insisted, getting down on both knees.

You became flustered, looking at your surroundings before back down at him. “Eddie, no.”

He put his hands in a praying position and tried to puppy-dog eye you. “Trust me, I can make you do that, like, five more times right now.”

“Eddie—”

“And that’s just with my tongue.”

“Oh my God. Get up,” you said with a laugh, tugging him to stand back up. “We’re not doing this in public.”

Eddie snorted, a goofy smile meeting his lips. “Well, technically we already—”

“There you guys are!” 

Aron’s voice snapped you both out of your delirium, bringing you back to where you were.

“Oh, ew!” she nearly screeched, eyes wide as she stared at Eddie’s jeans. “We’re in public, guys. Come on.” 

When you both looked down, you saw your cum glistening across his jeans. 

“I’m sorry!” you said at the same time Eddie said, “I’m not sorry!”

You immediately gawked at him and he couldn’t have enjoyed any reaction more. His smirk said it all, earning a quick whack to his shoulder. 

“You’re both so horny on main. I’m never letting you out of my sight at a party ever again.”

thank yew for the divider @strangergraphics

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/reader #Eddie munson x you #Eddie munson/you #Eddie x you #Eddie x reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie Munson smut

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (28)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of masturbation, public dirty talk, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Even though he had expected nothing else, his wife's reaction completely devastated him anyway − her words cut through him like daggers, showing him his own face in the light of the truth.

What should I do now?

Divorce you?

Not speak to you for eight years?

He didn't know what he should answer.

The realisation that he was constantly searching for fault in her because he felt guilty himself, that he was accusing her of betrayal because he had betrayed her himself, caused him to no longer know who he was anymore. He felt so lost and heartbroken that he had simply burst out crying in front of her like a child scolded by a parent.

He just wanted her to forgive him.

When she told him what Alys had seen in her dream and informed him of her conditions, even though he was dying at the thought of spending even one more day in this fortress, he sat down at her oak desk the next morning to write a letter to his brother-king.

My King, our half-sister has agreed to our terms, however, she makes her own demands. I have decided, in order to alleviate the situation, to travel with my wife to Dragonstone, where we are currently staying. We want to try to convince them to change their minds − one order from you is enough for me to return to King's Landing. Your loyal brother

His niece was furious with him − he had never seen her like this before and preferred not to address her at all when she spoke to him knowing that he would only make matters worse. He hoped that his conciliatory attitude and the fact that he had fulfilled her wish would make her calm down.

The thought that he wasn't her prisoner didn't comfort him, because he felt like one anyway.

Wherever he went he might encounter someone he didn't feel like looking at, so he preferred to stay in her chamber and bear it somehow.

As soon as she had left her quarters he rose from his chair and began to walk around her room, looking at the various objects on the shelves and bookcases − he looked through the books she was reading, finding with satisfaction that most of them were also in his possession in King's Landing.

He spotted her embroideries in one of the drawers, including those he remembered well from his childhood, and smiled involuntarily at the thought, wondering if she had kept them for the sake of memories.

He shuddered as the door to the chamber opened suddenly and he slid the drawer back in, turning with a rapidly beating heart − Daemon stood with his hands folded behind him, sighing heavily.

"− come, nephew − we must discuss many important matters −" He said with a kind of boredom, as if what he was speaking of was a duty he had no desire to perform at all.

"− I will not go anywhere with you, uncle − I am quite comfortable here −" He said lowly, looking away, frustrated.

Why did he always feel like a little child in his presence?

Daemon chuckled at his question.

"− it wasn't a request − come, let's have a walk −" He encouraged him in a ferocious, mocking tone from which he felt rage and a clench in his stomach.

He knew he couldn't refuse.

Daemon led him out of the fortress through one of the side entrances − he checked a few times before the sound of the sea surrounded them that the dagger he always carried with him was strapped to his belt.

They stepped out onto a gigantic white beach seeming to stretch on endlessly to him, with only the water to their left and high rising rocks and mountains to their right.

They were completely alone.

His uncle finally stopped and turned to him, looking at him for a moment without a word.

"− why did you suggest you spend the night in Dragonstone? −"

He licked his lips, feeling his heart stop at his question.

"− that was her wish −"

"− don't fucking lie to me or I will pierce your skull with my sword −"

He looked at him in disbelief, his jaw clenched so tight he felt like it was going to burst, his fingers involuntarily tightening into fists.

Silence fell again, the sound of the waves around them, their hair and tunics blowing in the wind.

It seemed to him that his uncle's gaze was piercing him to the core.

"− Larys Strong had his own plans for you − I couldn't let that happen −" He muttered at last.

"− does she know about this? −" He asked coldly.

He swallowed hard at the thought that he was referring to his wife.

"− yes −"

"− did you tell her before or after we came here? −"

He lowered his gaze already knowing what he was leading up to, he felt like his whole body was quivering.

"− after −"

Daemon snorted in annoyance, shaking his head as he looked out at the sea stretching before them.

"− you fucking cunt − I was supposed to personally deal with his rats overdue in the Eyrie, but you ruined my plan − though surely that's good for you −" He confessed looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

He felt a powerful, cold shiver run along his back at the thought that he knew everything.

He knew that they were about to be murdered.

And Rheanyra?

Seeing that he couldn't force out the question that was pressing on his lips his uncle laughed out loud.

"− the rider of the world's greatest dragon since Balerion's passing is unable to get a word out − shame has taken away your speech? − where is your pride that you always boasted so much? −" He continued, provoking him to explode, his heart pounding like mad.

What should he do?

How should he behave?

"− you are exactly as I assumed − you are still a boy who has lost an eye and who is waiting for his betrothed to come to comfort him − you are like a stone, unable to move on − my daughter has sacrificed everything for you, and you stand before me like some fool −"

"− what do you want from me, uncle? −"

"− no − what do YOU want − are you able to name it in your head, or are you like a child in a fog without your mother? −" He asked in a raised voice, frustrated, making him feel a hot wave of humiliation flowing through his body.

"− I want her to be safe −"

"− what happened in King's Landing? −"

"− I −"

"− fucking speak − and you'd better say the truth −"

"− your spies in the Red Keep didn't report it to you? −" He hissed, his uncle taking a step towards him, looking him straight in the eye.

"− you're trying my patience −"

He pressed his lips together feeling his heart rise to his throat, cold sweat running down his back.

"− my mother gave her moon tea without my knowledge − she wanted to be able to pact with you and give her to Lord Arryn's son −" He said dispassionately feeling, however, that his voice trembled. Daemon looked at him wordlessly.

"− and what have you done to punish those who wronged my daughter, and your wife? −"

He looked at him feeling his whole body freeze.

"− what would you have done to her if she had been the one to fail your trust? − if she tried to fight for her freedom, if she stood up to you and threatened your mother? −" He asked, stabbing his words into him like daggers .

He didn't know the answers to these questions.

He never wanted to ask himself them.

"− I did everything I could − she is my mother − you would expect the same from your daughter yourself −"

"− and yet she was the one who came to beg her own mother to surrender her claim to the crown when yours was encouraging your brother to steal the throne that never belonged to him − gods, Viserys has taught you nothing, has he? − you see nothing but your mother's skirt to which you have always been clung ���" He muttered with some kind of disgust from which he felt a cold, unpleasant shiver and discomfort in his stomach.

"− I regret − I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow − I did not, though it was my duty −"

He looked at him in disbelief, feeling with horror the burning under his eyelids. He laughed and shook his head, wishing he could somehow control what was happening to him − he hid his hands behind his back feeling how much they were trembling.

"− are you remorseful, uncle? − do you see that you yourself also contributed to the division of our family into two separate parts? −" He asked with mockery and regret in his voice feeling that he was weak.

What had happened in the last few days had completely destroyed him.

"− I want to hear the truth and I will ask for the last time − what do you want? −" His uncle asked with emphasis on the last sentence.

He shuddered, realising that deep down he knew what the answer was.

He always knew.

"− I wish it was all over − I wish I could take her to Essos, as I promised her − I am tired, uncle − I have been tired all my life − I only rest when she is by my side −"

Daemon looked at him for a long moment and let out a loud breath, looking out to sea. They stood like that, not speaking to each other.

"− is there anything else you have hidden from her? −" He asked coldly, and he felt a squeeze in his throat at the memory of the Witch of Harrenhal's words.

You will betray her at the moment she trusts you the most.

You will achieve victory, but she will never let you touch herself again.

You will put your child inside me, your bastard son, who will rule Harrenhal after our death.

He raised his eyes to his uncle and met his gaze, proud and distrustful, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"− I −"

"− speak −"

"− there is − there is a woman in Harrenhal, called by some a witch − she came to me last morning and −"

"− did you take her to your bed? −"

His voice stuck in his throat at his question, so he shook his head quickly, horrified.

"− no, but she said − she prophesied to me that this would happen − that − that I would put my child inside her −" He muttered, feeling with what difficulty those words left his mouth. Daemon raised his eyebrows in disbelief and rolled his eyes.

"− and? − if she said so, now there's nothing left for you to do but put your cock inside her? − don't make me laugh −" He sneered, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"− she can predict the future − I −"

"− are you listening to me, or have you not only gone blind but deaf? − if she told you that you would run away with her to Essos and beget twenty children with her would you believe her too? − she told you exactly what she wanted to happen − she hopes to still use you in the future by doing so, and you reflecting on her words are doing exactly what she wants − I don't know any man who would put his cock into a woman by accident or by fate − pull yourself together −" He said impatiently, causing a warm wave of embarrassment to surge through him.

He thought he really was a fool.

How could he have believed her with such ease?

Though he didn't want to admit it to himself, his words brought him relief.

"− do you have anything else to convey to me? − this is your last chance −" He asked coldly, and he shook his head.

"− very well − I'm glad we've got it behind us − you may leave −" He said dryly; he pressed his lips together at his words and simply walked away, swallowing his dignity and pride.

As he stepped into his wife's chamber he noticed her seated figure out of the corner of his eye, but he did not say a word to her − he felt humiliated and tired and did not feel like making conversation.

He also recognised that she certainly still hadn't forgiven him, so they might as well keep quiet.

He therefore sat down with one of her books by the fire, trying to concentrate on what he saw before him and not on his uncle's words.

I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow.

Though some part of him did not want to admit it, he knew that subconsciously he had been waiting for those words, for any praise or appreciation from him, the Rouge Prince himself, the greatest warrior and dragon rider he had seen in his lifetime.

So why did he feel so bad about what he had said to him?

You are still a boy who has lost an eye and who is waiting for his betrothed to come to comfort him.

My daughter has sacrificed everything for you, and you stand before me like some fool.

He swallowed hard, knowing that there was partly truth in his words.

For some reason though he wanted to, he couldn't completely free himself from the past and move on.

"− Jace kissed me − on the lips −"

He lifted his gaze to her from his book thinking he had overheard himself. He felt a wave of anger and disbelief surge through his body when he noticed in her gaze that she wasn't mocking him.

She meant it.

"− he did WHAT? −" He growled, getting up from his seat, throwing his book on the table and leaving immediately thinking he was going to kill this fucking bastard with his own hands.

When he finally walked into the right chamber he breathed heavily and grinned, feeling as if all the frustration, the things that had been happening to him after his conversation with his wife and uncle were going to find release at this very moment.

Jace stood up from his chair, pale at the sight of him, clearly knowing exactly what awaited him.

"− haven't you learned yet not to take what's not yours? − hm? −" He murmured teasingly, feeling the presence of his niece beside him, the scent of vanilla filling his lungs again.

"− Aemond −"

"− your sister when we were children told me that she never desired you as a man − she knew even then that you were a cunt −" He sneered, cocking his head to the side, resting his weight on his right leg, watching curiously as his nephew turned all red with embarrassment.

"− Aemond, that's enough −"

"− how dare you? − you are a guest under our roof − get out −" Baela growled, his smile widening even more at the sight of her, her lips tightening into a thin line.

He thought he would love to hit her in the face again before he remembered that she was a woman.

What a pity.

His wife appeared suddenly in front of him, looking at him warningly.

"− we are leaving −"

He felt like laughing at her words.

Her brothers were getting away with far too many things.

"− no − I'm speaking with my nephew −" He said sweetly, looking his nephew straight in the eye thinking with amusement that this time would be different.

"− we are leaving, uncle, or I swear I will never return with you to King's Landing −"

"− so I'll stay here with you − Jace as ruler of Dragonstone will surely be delighted to host us, won't he? − he seems to have a weakness for you, sweet wife −" He muttered in a voice filled with challenge and poison seeing that Baela looked at her betrothed in disbelief.

Always pretending to be so righteous, so wronged.

He was nothing more than a pathetic brat who was once again reaching for what didn't belong to him.

"− Jace, say something at last! −" Baela thundered, clearly wanting Jace to stop being a scared cunt, which unfortunately he was unable to do.

He could feel his own heart pounding fast, his hands clenched into fists, his breathing quick and deep.

He was ready to attack him, he was ready to rip him to shreds.

Some part of him wanted to do it.

A fucking would-be King.

You'll never sit on the throne − he thought with satisfaction − and in my wife's eyes you were never a man she could desire.

"− I made a mistake − I shouldn't have done it, forgive me − I −" He mumbled in horror as he looked at his niece with pleading eyes.

Did he really think that he would let him hide behind her skirt like a coward?

That he would allow him to escape the consequences of his foolishness again?

"− you made a mistake? − I seem to be able to understand the feeling − I have made a similar one many times, as well as others, even worse ones −" He hissed grabbing her cheeks, heard her draw in a loud breath, shocked, as his lips pressed against hers in a hot, aggressive kiss − she moaned quietly as his slick tongue forced its way deep into her throat with his low sigh of delight.

He pulled away and met her simultaneously terrified, enraged and thirsty gaze − she only mewled when he turned her with a confident tug with her back against him and pressed her figure against his chest, gripping her neck with one hand, the other sliding down her lower abdomen.

He involuntarily licked his lower lip when he felt her fingers tighten on his wrist trying to stop him from doing what he wanted to do, her mouth parted in disbelief.

"− so beautiful, isn't she, nephew? − I couldn't help myself either − I can't count how many times I took her − how many times I have filled her with my seed − right here −" He breathed out, not really understanding himself what he was actually doing, focusing more on her than on them as he dug his fingertips into her womanhood lying beneath the material of her gown.

Her head was tilted back, her thighs clenched, her lips struggling to hold back the moan from which his erection slapped impatiently against her buttocks in his breeches.

He thought he will fuck her with his fingers in front of his eyes.

"− u-uncle − stop −"

In fact, he had to stop when Daemon walked into the chamber − the ashamed, horrified expression on Jace's face who couldn't even look at them and the accusing look his betrothed turned towards him was reward enough for him.

He wanted to watch his world, everything he desired burn and fall apart in his hands.

He wanted him to know what it felt like.

He knew his wife enough to know that her rage was mixed halfway with the desire and tension he himself felt. He wanted to respect her request not to take her and break it at the same time, feeling that he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, so he did something that stopped halfway between both, coming with a sigh of relief on the material of her nightgown when he heard her moans of sweet fulfilment.

He wanted nothing more after this than to lock her in his arms and fall asleep.

"− let me embrace you −" He muttered.

"− no −" Her frustrated, trembling voice answered him.

He huffed loudly, heartbroken, at the same time understanding her and longing to take refuge again in the warmth that the closeness of her body gave him. In a gesture of desperation, he simply pressed his face against her neck, taking in her scent.

"− move away, uncle −"

"− I inhale the wonderful scent of vanilla after having experienced fulfilment with my wife −"

"− your wife does not wish for this −"

"− sleep −"

He heard her sigh heavily, annoyed, but said nothing more. When he finally felt she had fallen asleep, his hand slowly touched her waist and slid to other side, taking its place on her warm lower abdomen.

"− no −" He heard her quiet, unclear mumble, her body stirring in his embrace.

"− shhh − let me −" He whispered in her ear, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her cheek.

"− mhm −" She muttered, twisting towards him immersed in a deep sleep − he sighed heavily as her body involuntarily clung to his, her face sinking into the hollow of his neck.

He swallowed hard, feeling the squeeze in his heart and the tears under his eyelids that, one by one, began to run down his cheeks as his hands wove through her hair and the material of her nightgown at her back, pressing her close to his body.

He thought that for some reason during the nights he spent with her he was most vulnerable and weak, her presence, the warmth of her flesh, her closeness made him feel as if something was melting inside him, not allowing him to pretend that Daemon's words had not hurt him.

Despite repeating to himself that his uncle's words meant nothing to him, as a child he had looked up to him, dreaming of being like him − fearless, ironic, intelligent, confident, proud of his family and his heritage.

I regret that, seeing this, seeing Viserys fail you, seeing Otto make you his pawn, I was not a fatherly figure for you to follow.

He pressed his lips together at that thought, at his words, which cut into his heart like a sword, because although he had tried to find his pattern of masculinity in his father, in his older brother, in his grandfather, in Ser Criston, it was his uncle that his gaze had always followed, it was his uncle's reaction that he looked at when he and his father watched them duel.

He never heard a single warm word from his lips.

The fact that he was his mother's son had crossed him out in his eyes, and he had no intention of apologising for anything.

So what was he to do with his words?

That he did not know − nor did he know what purpose the conversation had served or why he had told him about the Witch of Harrenhal. He thought with shame that guilt and fear had crushed him so much that he had to get it off his chest, and he had chosen the worst person to do so.

What if he uses this against him?

Poison his daughter's thoughts with words that her husband feared that he would betray her in the future, beget a bastard child with another woman?

He felt a cold shudder run through his body at the thought, but for some reason he had a feeling that this would not happen.

She told you exactly what she wanted to happen.

She hopes to still use you in the future by doing so, and you reflecting on her words are doing exactly what she wants.

He was right.

This woman, whoever she was, was playing with him and his wife.

He thought she was hoping to frighten them both and lead them to lose trust in each other.

That this was perhaps also part of Larys' plan.

He had no intention of killing his wife.

He wanted her to do it herself.

That thought, that realisation flashed through his body like a flame, his fingers clamped down on her flesh as he swallowed hard, feeling some kind of indescribable relief, finding meaning in it at last.

They knew that if his wife disappeared, he would join the war.

He sighed quietly, thinking with surprising calmness in his soul, stroking his wife's soft, dark curls with his fingers, that he would cut off the heads of all the vipers plotting against her, one by one.

He intended to personally inform his brother what their grandfather and Lord Strong were planning to do behind his back.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond tagaryen smut #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fic #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell angst #aemond fandom #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen angst #canon aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x female #aemond x oc #aemond x original female character #aemond x original character #aemond x wife #aemond x niece #aemond x strong niece #hotd fanfic #hotd fandom #hotd fanfiction #hotd fic #hotd smut #hotd angst

[morallyinept]

Adulation - A Marcus Pike x Alopecia F!Reader One Shot

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

Summary: You've been dating and getting to know the handsome Agent Pike for some time, but there's still one last thing you've yet to tell him about yourself.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Alopecia F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity. Reader does not have hair on her head and wears wigs.)

Word Count: 7.7k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

Triggers & Warnings: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/thigh riding/gentle dirty talk/Marcus is completely smitten with you.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. The condition/disability mentioned in this story is not 'one size fits all' - everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS PIKE MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

"We should try the sampler platter," Marcus suggests, his gaze lingering on the menu of mouth watering options. "That way, we can taste a little bit of everything?"

“Well, they say variety is the spice of life. I like your thinking, Agent.” You smirk as Marcus’s cheeks fill with blood. 

You watch as Marcus sips from his wine glass, deep brown eyes meeting yours over the glass rim of dark berry liquid. 

“You, uh… you look really beautiful tonight. You look so good in that dress. I can’t take my eyes off you.” 

“Stop it,” you smile bashfully.

“Do you really want me to stop?” He teases, pouring out more wine into your glass. “I love what you’ve done with your hair.”

You feel your face warm with pleasure at his compliment, your heart fluttering with delight, skin flecking with goosebumps and tingles as his words make their way across it.

He always makes you feel like this with a simple sentence and look. Makes you feel… seen. 

"Well, I thought I'd switch things up a bit," you admit, a hint of giddy laughter in your voice. "Gotta keep you on your toes, you know?" 

His eyes roam over the sleek bob of midnight black, the sharp lines of the style adding an air of sophistication to your ensemble. Your hair shimmers in the gloaming candlelight, lending an aura of mystery and allure to your already captivating presence.

Marcus chuckles, leaning closer to you across the table. "You certainly have a way of keeping me captivated," he remarks, his eyes sparkling with a magnetising affection.

“I do?” You query, reaching for your wine glass. 

Marcus's eyes widen in surprise, a grin spreading across his face as he admires you. "Yeah. I love it," he replies, his voice filling with genuine admiration. "It's different, but it suits you perfectly."

“Different good?” You query and a pang of worry flits through your veins, reminding you it’s constantly there. A trusty companion, alongside your long term friends, angst and fear. 

“Yeah. It’s like I’m dating all these different women.” He chuckles at the absurdity of it, his cheeks glowing with warmth.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask him, finger circling the rim of your glass and his eyes drop to watch it momentarily.

“Hmm. Let me think…” He smiles and you can’t help but be drawn into the way his lips curve up into a dimple on his cheek. A fleshed crescent moon that you’ve fantasised about tasting since the first time you saw it revealed to you. 

Marcus Pike, FBI Special Agent in the Art Crimes Department, is the epitome of the perfect man, blending smooth determination with a profound appreciation for beauty and culture.

His sharp mind and keen eye for detail makes him a formidable agent, while his unwavering commitment to justice earns him the respect of his colleagues and adversaries alike. In the high-stakes world of art crime, Marcus stands out as a shining beacon of integrity and tenacity.

He approaches each case with a meticulous attention to detail, unravelling complex webs of deception and intrigue with adept precision and skill. 

Whether he’s tracking down stolen masterpieces or uncovering elaborate forgery rings, Marcus's relentless pursuit of truth and justice never wavers.

But it isn't just his professional acumen that makes Marcus so extraordinary; it’s his genuine passion for art and culture that truly sets him apart. 

That, and the fact he’s ridiculously handsome. 

He has a deep appreciation for the beauty and significance of the works he seeks to protect, viewing each painting, sculpture, and artefact as a priceless treasure to be safeguarded for future generations. Marcus's love for art extends beyond the confines of his work, infusing every aspect of his personal life with a sense of wonder and curiosity. 

And it’s where you first met him, in the serene halls of the local art gallery where you crossed paths with Special Agent Marcus Pike. Spinning on his polished heels to greet you with the softest brown eyes you’ve ever seen on a man, and how they sparkled at you instantly.

Harbouring your own passion for art and a keen eye for beauty, you work as a curator, carefully selecting and showcasing the works of talented artists from around the world as well as in the local vicinity.

Marcus, drawn to the gallery as a way of unwinding from his case loads, found himself captivated not only by the stunning artwork on display but also by the enigmatic presence of you. Colourful and striking; your clothes, accessories, and hair, all alive with vividness. 

You both spent your individual free time exploring museums and galleries, studying the brushstrokes of the masters and marvelling at the stories behind each piece.

And when he wasn't immersed in the world of art, Marcus could often be found indulging in the delights of cuisine, tempting you with indulgent treats he started bringing to you on your lunch, innocently suggesting he thought you might like it, and recommending the best places to eat.

Until he boldly suggested you try them out with him. 

But perhaps Marcus's most admirable quality is his unwavering dedication to those he cares about. He’s fiercely loyal to his team, always ready to go to bat for them in the face of danger or adversity.

And when it comes to matters of the heart, Marcus is a true romantic, believing in love with every fibre of his being and never hesitating to show his affection for those closest to him.

As you’d lingered in front of a particularly captivating painting, two lovers entwined in a dance of exaggerated colour, Marcus felt a flutter of excitement in his chest.

He turned to you, his heart pounding with anticipation as he mustered up the courage to ask you a question that had been on his mind since you’d first met.

His voice was tinged with nervousness and his words caught in his throat. "I know this might seem sudden, but would you like to go out to dinner with me? I'd love to continue our conversation over a meal, if you're interested?"

“Are you asking me out on a date, Marcus?” You’d asked with hopeful eyes. 

“Absolutely I am.”

And you were interested. God, of course you were. Excited at the prospect of getting to know this incredibly gorgeous man some more. 

But also, incredibly terrified.

The thought of dating had long filled you with a sense of dread and anxiety. How could you ever expect someone to love and want you when you struggled to love yourself?

Past experiences had let you down incessantly. The idea of revealing your secret to a potential partner filled you with a swamping dread, the fear of rejection looming like a dark cloud ready to break in the distance.

You’d spent years perfecting the art of concealment, hiding the bald patches beneath layers of carefully styled hair, until eventually the patches became an entirely bare head and you had no choice but to wear wigs.

But no matter how hard you tried to hide your condition, the truth remained - you were different. Convincing yourself that you were flawed, even unlovable for a while.

But deep down, you knew that you couldn't let fear dictate your life forever. Somewhere out there, you hoped, was someone who would see past your alopecia.

On your first date together, Marcus took you to a different art gallery, one of his favourites in the city, knowing your love for beauty and culture would be a perfect match for the setting.

As you both wandered through the halls adorned with vibrant paintings and striking sculptures, Marcus couldn't help but admire the way your eyes lit up with wonder and fascination.

He watched in rapt attention as you studied each piece with a keen eye, your curiosity piqued by the stories and emotions captured within the artwork. 

You exchanged whispered observations and shared smiles as you explored the gallery together, lost in the magic of the moment.

Fingers accidentally on purpose brushing against one another until they interlocked. Lips inching closer until they finally met in soft hums of appreciation and want. Whispers that erupted into breathy giggles as you slipped into alcoves to explore those lips some more.

He complimented everything about you, your eyes, the way you taste and your hair, winding his fingers through the loose, flowing curls as they fell over your shoulder. Clearly unable to tell that it wasn’t your real hair, and that made it all the more devastating somehow. 

You couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that chomped at your insides. Marcus looked at you with such openness and sincerity, yet you couldn't bring yourself to reveal the truth about your hair loss.

The thought of disappointing him, of shattering the illusion of perfection you had carefully crafted, filled you with guilt every time he smiled softly at you. How could you continue to deceive him, knowing that the truth would inevitably come to light?

As you continued to get close, your mind raced with thoughts of confession and consequence. You imagined Marcus's reaction - the shock, the disappointment, the inevitable rejection that would sure follow.

The fear of facing his judgement, of losing his affection, threatened to consume you whole. To the point you considered calling the whole dating thing off to save the heartache.

But you couldn’t abnegate yourself away from him either, drawn to him, by more than just your commonalities, which were growing in number and taste the more you shared time together.

The more he kissed you, held you close to him in his big hands, pressed you up against the warmth of him in a tight embrace, the more you just wanted him back. 

Your dates had taken you both to bustling markets, where you’d sampled exotic street foods and danced to the rhythm of live music. You’d strolled hand in hand through tranquil parks, lost in deep conversation as you watched the sunset paint the sky with hues of pink and gold. 

With each passing date, you and Marcus had peeled back the layers of your personalities, revealing your hopes and dreams to one another. Discovering shared interests and passions, as well as the unique quirks and idiosyncrasies that made each of you who you are. 

He spoke of his previous marriage, divorced and left adrift on a lonesome island of singledom. Then he told you about a colleague he’d fallen for, but again it had left him facing the nights alone in his new apartment here in D.C. when she’d made another choice.

His talk of rejection stumped him for a while, those brown eyes pulled deeper into his skull as he contemplated, the scars still visible, and it melted the fear clinging onto your own shoulders somewhat. 

You shared your own tales of heartbreak and there wasn’t much that you didn’t know about one another, revealing all your secrets and worries with ease. 

Well, almost all of them. 

Your finger winds through the cut length of the synthetic bob, one wig of several in your stylish armoury, and you swallow dryly, clearing your throat. 

It’s been on the cusp of your tongue but never seems to become a whole word with sound and vowels. And terrifying repercussions should it want to be pronounced. 

The waiter soon arrives with the sampler platter, a colourful array of small plates arranged artfully on a wooden board. Your eyes widen in delight as you survey the tempting spread before you. 

As you both sample the various dishes laid out, around delightful hums of satisfaction, Marcus can't help but marvel at the diverse flavours and textures that dance across his palate.

He glances at you, a playful twinkle in his eyes, as he reaches for another bite, but holds it out to you instead.

"This is incredible, try this," Marcus remarks, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm as you lean in and taste it from his fork. You simply can’t resist him in any way. 

“Delicious.” You agree. 

You take a sip of your wine, a curious glint in your eyes as you look back at him.

"So, tell me something about you that I don't already know yet," you prompt, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

“You want a heinous dark secret, hmm?” Marcus teases. 

“Sure. The more dark and twisted the better.” You giggle. 

Marcus chuckles, a hint of nostalgia flickering in his gaze. "Well, you might not believe it, but I used to play bass in a band. I don’t think I've mentioned that yet," he confesses, his voice tinged with fond reminiscence. 

Your eyes widen in surprise, your interest piqued. "Are you a secret metalhead, Marcus?”

“Well, not quite.”  

“That's really cool," you confirm, leaning forward eagerly. "What was the name of your band?"

Marcus grins, his peepers glinting with excitement at the memory. "We were called 'Midnight Groove'," he reveals, a nostalgic smile playing on his pink lips. "And we were all about that funky, soulful sound. We played everything from classic rock to blues to jazz fusion."

Your lips curve into a smile as you imagine Marcus on stage, lost in the rhythm of the music, fingers plucking at strings. You glance at them around his glass, thick and you lick your lips. 

"That sounds amazing," you remark, your voice filled with admiration. "I would love to hear you play sometime."

Marcus’s smile widens at your enthusiasm, his heart warmed by your genuine interest. "I'd like that," he says softly, his gaze locked with yours. "Maybe one day I'll dust off my old bass guitar and serenade you with some funky tunes."

“You don't play much anymore?”

“Disbanded. Work became all encompassing and we scattered. We stay in touch though. They’re a good bunch of guys.”

As the conversation and flirtatious looks flows between you both, Marcus leans in again, his eyes soft with genuine interest.

"So, tell me something about yourself that I don't know yet," he prompts, a warm smile playing on his lips.

His question hangs in the air, lingering between you like a taut thread of anticipation. Pulling tight, tight, tighter - until it snaps!

For a moment, you hesitate, your mind racing as you grapple with the weight of Marcus's innocent inquiry.

You search for something to share, something that will offer him a glimpse into your world without revealing the vulnerable truth you keep hidden beneath your wigs.

But try as you might, you find yourself at a loss for words, because he already knows everything. He knows where you grew up, how you got that little scar on your knee, who your first crush was...

He knows, he has to know right? It’s obvious. Has to be. The fact your hair is so different every time you see him is apparent that you wear wigs. He can’t be that naive or oblivious. 

The weight of your secret bears down on you like a heavy burden, suffocating your ability to speak and leaving you feeling exposed and prickly. You look at him, eyes soft and lips smiling in playful anticipation of your secret you’ll reveal.

He knows everything about you. Everything. Except this one, tiny, completely significant detail you’ve deliberately left out. 

As the silence stretches between you, Marcus reaches out to gently touch your hand, sending a jolt of warmth through your body. 

"Hey,” the velvety feel of his thumb stroking over your knuckles makes you somewhat dizzy. “You don't have to share anything you're not comfortable with," he reassures you, his voice soft and grounding.

You contemplate ending it right here, before Marcus has the chance to discover it all.

Your mind flits between making up some white lie or excusing yourself to the bathroom and walking out, disappearing from his life without a trace. It would be easier that way, wouldn't it? Easier than facing the inevitable truth.

But as you look into Marcus's eyes, filled with warmth and kindness, you know that you can't bring yourself to hurt him like that. Despite your fears and insecurities, you can't bear the thought of losing him - not when he's become such an integral part of your life, not when you’ve come to care for him so deeply.

Your gaze falters for a moment, your mind racing as you debate whether to reveal it. It could change everything - you suspect it might. It has before, countless times before. A repetitive déjà vu you're doomed to live through on endless repeat.

You don’t want to tarnish Marcus with the same brush, it’s unfair. But you’ve walked this path before and it’s hard not to expect disappointment. People are such fickle creatures after all.  

But the way he’s looking at you now, with deep brown eyes that reflect the candlelight, he softens your edges, makes the outline of your sight fuzzy and full of bokeh sparkles.

A flicker of uncertainty crosses over your features before you finally brave yourself to speak.

"Well, there's something I haven't really talked about before," you began slowly, your voice just above a trembled whisper.

And now you’ve started it’s unnerving to know how to finish. 

“Do you wanna leave, go somewhere private and talk?” He asks, sensing your hesitancy. 

“No, no, here is okay. Besides, if I don’t just come out and tell you now, I probably… won’t.”

“Okay.” Marcus says, his smile dipping a little. “Take your time. You can tell me anything, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He squeezes your hand inside his to emphasise the point. And you instantly feel wretched for assuming that he would once he knows.

He’s done nothing but make you feel at ease since the moment you met. Make you feel awash with vibrancy. He sees all your colours, every single one and doesn't try to grey them out or tone them down. He really likes you for… you.

That’s all you’ve ever wanted, right?

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage as you meet Marcus's curious gaze. 

"It's just... I-I have a condition called alopecia," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's why my hair looks different all the time. I wear wigs."

You pick up your wine glass, quickly downing the contents in two large gulps as your heart thuds inside your ears. 

Marcus nods, the smile instantly returning. “Yeah, I knew that.”

You baulk. “Wait, you did?” 

“Well, I mean, I didn’t know for sure that it was alopecia, but I suspected it was probably something like that.”

“Your detective skills precede you, Agent.”

He smiles. “No, I just pay attention to things I really like looking at.” 

You smile back, any panic instantly falling from your shoulders.

“I didn’t want to pry. I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. I didn’t know for sure so didn’t want to assume. I've always admired your style. Especially your hair. It's so versatile - one day it's short and spunky, the next it's long and glamorous. I wish I had your knack for switching up my look."

“You look pretty fine to me, Marcus.” You say with a smile and his cheeks glow again. 

“Either way, I kinda love all those different looks on you.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah. They’re amazing and really compliment your personality,” he says and you feel warm at his admission. 

Throughout your dates, your hair has been a delightful kaleidoscope of colours and styles, each wig a reflection of your vibrant personality and adventurous spirit.

On your first meeting at the art gallery, your hair was cascaded in loose curls of rich chestnut in soft waves that caught his eye as you moved. The subtle highlights danced in the gallery's dim lighting, accentuating your features and drawing Marcus's gaze like a moth to a flame.

On a spontaneous night outing to a live jazz club, you surprised Marcus with a playful pixie cut of platinum blonde, the short strands framing your face in a halo of light.

With each nod of your head to the rhythm of the music, your hair caught the stage lights and sparkled like a constellation in the night sky, mesmerising Marcus with its silvery glimmer.

As your dates blossomed in frequency, you continued to delight and surprise Marcus with your ever-changing hairstyles. From long, flowing locks of fiery red to bold, statement-making curls of electric blue, and shorter edgy styles, each wig you wear is a testament to your creativity and bright confidence, and Marcus finds himself falling more deeply for you with each passing day. 

And he never queries why, just admiring and complimenting, and accepting that this is who you are. 

“Do you mind talking about it?” Marcus asks. 

“Not at all. I mean, not many people want to, I guess.”

“Really?”

“Compassion and understanding is often hard to compete with judgemental stares and whispering, you know?”

Marcus frowns. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that. That must have been hard.” He says sincerely. 

“The wigs help. Most people assume it’s a fashion choice.” You explain.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

He looks at you deeply. “Is it all over or just… your head?”

You breathe in. “Mostly my head. But for a while, I lost my eyelashes. I have hair… uh, elsewhere. But it tends to be really patchy so I keep it… trim.” You say, swallowing dryly as Marcus blushes. 

“I’m uh… I’m sure it’s all perfect.” He surmises.  

You smile. “My hair sometimes grows patchy on my head too, but it’s never long enough to grow out into full hair, if that makes sense? So I just shave it off. It’s easier.” 

Marcus nods, listening intently. “What's your favourite wig that you have?” 

You think about it for a moment. “The one I was wearing the day I met you.” 

He blushes. “Yeah. I really like that one too.” 

“Maybe I should wear it more often.” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at Marcus, overwhelmed by his kindness and sincerity. 

“Hey,” he says, taking your hand again. 

"I was so afraid that you’d be repulsed by me," you admit, your voice trembling.

“Why would you think that? I think you're absolutely beautiful. I’ve always thought so.”

“Oh, Marcus.” You sniffle, reaching for your napkin to dab your eyes before your mascara runs. 

“I mean it.” He squeezes your hand again, wrapping his fingers around your own, his eyes filled with compassion. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth. "But it doesn't change how I feel about you. You're still the same amazing person I've come to care about. I really care about you."

You look at him, his hand emanating so much warmth around yours. “Yeah?”

He nods, smiling. “Can I tell you another secret?”

“Sure.”

“I’m really falling for you, actually. Head over heels, completely and utterly.” He admits. 

In that moment, the world seems to stand still as you process Marcus's heartfelt confession. A surge of warmth floods your chest, chasing away the lingering doubts and fears that have plagued you for so long.

"Marcus, I..." you begin, your voice choked with emotion. "I'm falling for you, too."

The smile that spreads across his face could outshine the sun. 

With a soft exhale, Marcus leans in closer, his voice a tender whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

Marcus’s gaze locks with yours in a silent plea. "Would you... would you like to come back to my place after we finish up here?"

Your breath catches in your throat at Marcus's suggestion, your mind awash with a whirlwind of emotions and desires. The thought of being alone with him, of exploring the depths of your connection in the privacy of his home, sends a thrill coursing through your veins.

You can imagine him peeling you out of your dress, running his hands all over your skin. Asking you to stay with hot breath snaking in your ear because he wants to make love to you all night long. Wants to watch you buck and moan for him.

You’ve thought about it a lot at night, seeking satisfaction with your fingers and vibrator as your mind conjures up all the ways he can leave you satisfied. And you’d say yes, wanting nothing more than to let him fill you full of him, and then you’d have to take your wig off to sleep in his arms and-

“Oh.” Your thighs squeeze themselves together relieving some of that delicious anticipation, despite your mind penduluming between abject want and that familiar fear. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t have any wild expectations. Just some more wine and maybe a movie? Some cuddles on the couch?” Marcus tempts. 

With a slow nod, you meet Marcus's soft gaze with unwavering determination. You can’t abnegate yourself. Especially when it’s apparent he still wants to spend time with you, despite now knowing entirely everything about you.

"Yes," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'd really like that."

“Me too.” He smiles at you with a soft beam. 

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine." 

You smile as Marcus talks along with the film Casablanca rolling across his flat TV screen. Changing his accent to match Humphrey Bogart’s, which makes you giggle, because it sounds nothing like it at all. Then he laughs with you, his chuckles sounding like wind chimes. 

Wrapped in a cosy blanket, you nestle closer to Marcus, your head resting against his chest as you lose yourselves in the timeless tale unfolding onscreen. 

Marcus drapes his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer with a gentle warmth that envelopes you in a sense of security and belonging.

Close up, Marcus exudes an aura of warmth and masculinity that’s impossible to ignore with each breath you inhale pressed against his broad chest. He’s dressed more casually now, exchanging his suit pants for casual grey sweats and his crips shirt for a looser round neck.

His scent mingles with the natural musk of his skin, creating a tantalising combination that stirs something primal within. You get whiffs of citrusy bergamot and zesty orange, base notes that are complimented by hints of spicy cinnamon and clove each time you breathe in.

You can smell the fruity tones of the cabernet on the soft warmth of his breath, cascading down your forehead onto your nose. 

As you watch the movie together, your soft breathing mingled with the crackle of the fireplace fills the room with a sense of warmth and intimacy, something you’ve always craved with a partner. To just feel close and wanted.

Marcus will occasionally steal glances down at you, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of you relaxed and at ease in his arms.

“This feels so good.” You murmur into his shoulder. 

“Yeah, it really does.” He agrees. 

“Oh sorry, I was talking to Rick Blaine.” You giggle, his hand lowering and pinching your hip playfully. 

“Oh really?” Marcus teases. “Shall I leave you and Rick to it then?”

You giggle some more and he pulls you in closer. 

“He is really handsome, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’ll stay and watch.” He remarks. 

“Kinky,” you smirk. 

His chest heaves from another chuckle. 

“He’s not as handsome as you, though.” You chirp, looking at him.

As you trace the lines of his face with your gaze - the strong jawline, the stubble-softened cheeks, the gentle slope of his nose - you marvel at the beauty of the man before you.

He’s a masterpiece in every sense of the word - a work of art crafted with care and precision, a reflection of the love and light that dwells within his gentle soul.

“Oh yeah?”

You nod looking up at him. “Yeah. Sexy too.”

He grins with twinkly eyes. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Really sexy,” you nod, leaning up to kiss him.

“I think you’re incredibly sexy.” Marcus says as he brushes his lips against yours. “Mmm, God… look at you.” 

His tongue slips into your mouth, tantalising you into a willing submission inside his arms. It’s a kiss filled with tenderness and passion, a silent promise of love and acceptance that transcends words between you.

“It’s late,” you say softly, a dreamy relaxation settling into your bones, limbs warm from the wine and the snuggly blanket draped over you both.

Soft hums, hands that sweep up arms and into the back of his hairline, a nose that crushes against yours as you breathe into one another, you connect on deeper levels. You could kiss him forever.

“Yeah,” he glances over at the clock and it’s nearing midnight. “I’ll call you a cab., sweetheart.”

Looking a little bereft, he goes to move, but your palm on his chest stops him. 

"Marcus, I... I don't want to leave, but-" 

The thought of staying the night with Marcus is both thrilling and terrifying, for it means revealing your most vulnerable self - the woman beneath the carefully crafted facade of your wigs.

But every fibre in your body wants him pressed up close to you like he is now, holding you in his arms, skin on delicious skin. 

You nod. 

“It’s okay. I feel the same way. I'm nervous too."

"You are?"

"Because... you want me. It's felt like no-one really has most of my life. Second best." He says, his smile dipping.

"It's their loss, Marcus. Trust me." You smile.

"I really wanna hold you all night and wake up with you in the morning. Make you pancakes for breakfast.” He smiles again, brushing his nose against yours. “But I also don't want you to feel uncomfortable." He says, his fingers stroking against your cheek. 

“But… when you’re ready, I do have something that might put you at ease.”

“What?”

“One sec.” He pushes off the blanket and disappears out of the room quickly.

You hear the thud of the stairs as he dashes up them and the shake again as he comes back down with something behind his back. 

“Marcus-” You grin waiting for him to reveal it. 

“I want you to know that I think you're beautiful, with or without your wig. And if and when you're ready to take it off, I'll be here for you, every step of the way. It changes nothing for me."

You smile softly at him.

“And I got this, for when you stay. I mean, if you want to. I hope you’ll want to. But I read some things about alopecia and some people said-”

“You read up on it?” You ask, your eyebrows rising.

“Yeah.” He hands it to you and your fingers stroke across a silken cap in a striking, deep sapphire hue. 

“Marcus.”

The simple gesture speaks volumes about his thoughtfulness and care, touching you in a way you hadn't expected.

Tears well up in your eyes as you take the dainty cap from Marcus's outstretched hand, your fingers trembling with gratitude. It’s more than just a gift - it’s a symbol of his acceptance, his willingness to embrace every part of you, including your alopecia.

“I read that you might feel cold, when you sleep?”

“Yeah, I do,” you nod, wiping your eyes. “This is so thoughtful, Marcus.”

You’ve kept your alopecia hidden for so long, fearing rejection and judgement from those you care about. But Marcus's unwavering acceptance and understanding gives you a glimmer of hope - hope that you can be loved for who you truly are, wig or no wig.

"Thank you," you say softly, your voice tinged with emotion. "For being so kind and patient with me. This means so much much to me, more than you could ever know."

You look down at the cap, it’s colour bold and so pretty. Something so small, but means so much. A simple gesture that lets you know it's okay to be vulnerable.

To be yourself. 

Marcus smiles, his eyes sparkling with affection. "You don't have to thank me. I care about you deeply, and I want you to feel comfortable and safe with me, sweetheart."

“I do,” you smile. “I really do.”

With a shaky breath, you make a decision. You know that you can't let fear hold you back any longer. Not when Marcus is right here, imbuing you with strength and desire. 

Slowly, hesitantly, you reach up to remove your wig, unclipping it and revealing the smooth expanse of your scalp beneath.

Marcus's breath catches in his throat as he looks at you, eyes roaming slowly over your head and his heart swelling with admiration for your courage and vulnerability.

"Wow," he says. He reaches out to gently cup your face in his hands, his touch tender and reverent.

He places a soft kiss on the top of your head, lips pressed gently into the smooth, bare skin and it lingers before he pulls you closer - large hands resting gently on your hips as he glides his lips against yours.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. "Absolutely stunning."

"I'm really not," you whisper.

"You are to me. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You feel his hands trail up your back and then disappear, the warmth from them now emanating on your cheeks again, thumbs stroking under your eyes. 

“I think…” You begin with a breathless whisper.

“Yeah?” He breathes into your mouth. 

“I think… I want to stay and for you to take me to bed, Marcus.”

“Are you sure?” He mouths against your cheek.

The subtle graze of his barely-there facial hair makes you hot under your skin. Your fingers clutch tighter around his shoulders, the material from his t-shirt bunching up there.

The little groan from the back of his throat is swallowed up as you breathe it down into your lungs.  

“I’m sure. I want you.” 

“God, I want you too.” He groans. 

You don’t make it to the bedroom, instead straddling his lap right on the sofa as you kiss him with everything you have. 

You help him out of his t-shirt, rolling it up and running your hands over his bronzed skin. Leaning in to trail open mouthed kisses down his chest, he unbuttons your shirt revealing delicate lace cups holding you in and groans audibly. 

And you both laugh when he struggles to unclasp it. 

“Fuck...” Marcus runs his mouth in a slew of delicate kisses over your cleavage, reaching around with nimble, yet trembling fingers to unclasp your bra.

"I think thas's the first time I've heard you curse." You snicker.

"I think the situation calls for it. My God... I can't believe how stunning you are!"

“What is going on back here?” He chuckles, and you help him out, letting your breasts spill into his face.

“God, look at those nipples.” He sighs hungrily. 

“Put them in your mouth.” You husk.

Kissing and licking over your nipples you can feel the clamminess over your back as you sweat. His tongue draws tantalising circles around them and you could just come from that alone. 

"Yes, ma'am." He sucks your nipple into his mouth, warm and wet as he swirls his tongue, giving each the attention they so deserve until they're hard and aching between the gentle pull of his teeth.

"Mmm," you groan in delight.

“Oh God, Marcus…” you whine, fingers tugging in his hair. You inadvertently rock your hips against his thigh, grinding softly on him. And he grunts glancing down at you doing it. 

“That feel good?” Marcus asks as you moan softly, feeling the delicious grind of your clit catching against the fabric of his sweats. 

“Yeah.”

He watches with rapt attention, his hands snaking their way around you and moving the henlm of your dress up round your stomach as you grip onto his shoulders. 

“Mmm, feels so good,” you groan.

“You look so good doing that… fuck.” He whispers, losing his voice. “Use me, that’s it. Like that. Make a mess of me. Come on, baby.” Marcus urges, pressing desperate kisses to your throat.

Winding your hips, you clock the bulge straining in his sweats and palm it, and he hisses between his teeth. He feels big, thick and you groan as the pressure on your clit mounts.

He rocks you harder, faster as you grind and pant, moaning his name softly as you build. Your gasps are more throaty, your body tensing up, and he can feel it under his hands. 

“Come for me, beautiful,” Marcus urges as you ride his thigh to a tingly oblivion.

Warmth spreads down your spine, laced with an aftermath of delicious prickles as your shudder and shake.

A dark patch is left on his grey sweatpants as your slick seeps into them. 

“I wanna take these panties off. God, they're so sexy. Can I?” Marcus husks with dark eyes. 

You nod and shimmy your hips so he can pull them down, laying you back on the couch as he parts your legs.

He licks his lips and groans at the perfectly bare pussy presented to him. 

“Fuck…” 

He strokes his fingers through your sopping folds, sucking on your nipples again as he slides his fingers up your slit, the pad of his finger pressing gently as you card through his hair. 

“M-Marcus,” you whine as he teases your entrance with those thick digits, feeling you clench around just the tip.

He strokes his finger in and out as you lay there, leaving it in so you can work those muscles against it, clenching around him as you groan with desperate need.

He teases, slowly pulling it out and just as slowly pushing it back in again. Withdrawing and then adding another until he pumps them inside your aching cunt. 

His other hand on the cushion beside your head inches closer, his thumb brushing against the smooth curve of your skin above your ear, and running his lips over your bare crown once more before resting his forehead on yours. 

The slick of your pussy being fucked by his fingers echoes around you both. 

“You are so beautiful,” he utters as he kisses you. 

You tug at the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down over his ass to release his cock. Stroking the thickness of it in your palm as he circles your clit with his thumb, two fingers buried deep inside you and rubbing against that spot inside that makes your thighs shake. 

“I need you, Marcus.”

“Mmm, you can have me, sweetheart. Anytime you want…” He croons, running his lips over your collarbone. 

“Oh really?” You smirk. 

“I’m completely yours.” And with the look in his eyes you believe him.

He is yours, yours to keep and love and grow old with if you want him - it's all there, deep in the golden swirls of his irises. A lifetime together; an irrevocable happiness that you’ve been searching for your entire life. 

“Mine.” You repeat, pulling his face up and kissing him. 

He lowers himself down, cock brushing against your folds as you groan. He pulls back to watch, teasing his thick head through those slick lips, watching as he slowly disappears inside them with a wet pop. 

“Oh fuck…” he sweetly blasphemes, teeth griding tight.

He guides himself in, pushing gently with his hips as he crests through your tight hole. You’re so wet, dripping for him, that he slides in with ease. 

You gasp at the thickness of him, the jolt as he runs his thumb over your clit as he slides in, cock filling you and stretching you around him. 

His body is so warm and you can't stop touching him, stroking his skin and planting kisses all over it.

His lips move across your own, inking breaths and dizzy chants into the layers. “Feels so good, feels so good, feels so good…”

“Oh God,” you breathe. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you feel really good.” It’s unlike anything you’ve felt before. Smooth and deep as he fills you up, connects himself to you on a level that transcends the basic intimacy of sex. 

“I know, baby. God, you’re so tight. Ah, shit…” Marcus groans, eyes rolling back. 

“Kiss me,” you plead, your tongue slipping into his mouth as he moves. Hips languidly rotating and thrusting slowly as he bottoms out.  

You cry out when he does, fingers gripping into flesh, hot pants sinking into his pores. 

“Can you feel me, right there?” He gasps, pushing himself as deep into you as he’ll go. 

“Yes… God, yes!” 

He watches as your eyes squeeze shut, how your teeth bite down on your lip as you moan and pant; feels how you clench tighter and more erratically around him the closer you get to your orgasm. 

Your mouth chases his fingers, open and wanting as his thumb brushes down the side of your cheek and over your lips. Gentle, rhythmic strokes become harder and deeper as he’s utterly possessed by you, eyes rolling back and jaw slack as you feel every inch of him.

He squeezes over your ass, thighs, breasts, staring at you, completely captivated. 

“You wanna ride me?” Marcus suggests with a coy smirk and apple flushed cheeks. 

“God yes!” You hum excitedly.

You straddle him again and lower yourself down, his cock packing you out once more. 

“Oh shit, Marcus!”

“Sweetheart-” he groans as you sit all the way down.

“Oh my God, that’s so deep,” you whine, your hands clawing at his chest. 

You start to move, feeling so full and he groans looking up at you. 

“Oh fuck, just like that,” he whines.

He feels incredible, looks stunning with his head thrown back on the couch as his cheeks keep that gorgeous pink hue and his rich cocoa eyes look deeply into you. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” His fingers are felt on the back of your bare head, stroking softly as he kisses you. And it feels incredible to have him touch you so intimately like this. 

You lick into his mouth making him smile and grunt as you ride a bit faster, his cock hitting you so deep with each movement. 

He groans out when he feels you come around him, squeezing his cock tighter and making him work harder through it. Squeezing and contracting as your slick soaks him. 

“God, you’re even more beautiful when you’re coming all over my cock,” he puffs. 

“You’re amazing,” you pant.

“It’s all you, sweetheart. Trust me.” Marcus groans. “Can you take it a little harder?”

“I’ll take it anyway you want to give it to me.” You smile. 

“Oh, baby.” He fucks up into you harder, loud repetitive slaps fill the lounge along with your sweet, caustic whines as you build. “There are so many ways I wanna give to you.”

“Tell me,” you hum. 

He smirks before licking across your nipple, eyes looking up at you the whole time. “From behind… up against the wall… on the kitchen counter.”

“Mmm,” you whine. You reach down to stroke your clit, gasping as your fingers swirl around in the immense wetness down there. 

“Mmm, fuck.” He groans watching you do it as he continues to push up into you. “Yeah. Stroke that gorgeous clit for me,” he grunts. 

“How else do you want me?” You pant.

You can feel it, rising in your chest, glittering behind your eyes. The building as your peak finds you amongst the heady bliss. 

“In the back of my car… handcuffed to my bed railing and unable to escape while I taste you for hours…” 

“Fuck!” Your legs start to shake once more, your back arching and your breasts pushed further towards his face. You lean back, gripping onto his thighs, hips bouncing as you chase that feeling so gluttonously.

“Look at me, let me see you come again, beautiful.”

It’s almost unbearable, the way he looks at you, his eyes filled with so much adoration that it threatens to spill out of your own.

He gasps, panting with you, enthralled and enraptured as you come undone completely around him, and he swears he's never seen anything more stunning in his life.

He absorbs that moment wholly, when the euphoria takes over your face, as your raspy yells of his name fall into silk whispers around his face. How you continue to bounce with fervour on his cock long after the shakes have dissipated from your bones. 

“That’s it, that’s it… Oh God!” Marcus whispers, mouth curving into an astonished arc as that dimple reveals itself again. “You’re gonna make me come, sweetheart.”

“I want you to.” You whisper. "Come for me, Marcus."

“Can I come inside you?”

You nod as you press your mouth to his, swallowing his tongue as his grip tightens around you.

He slows right down, sliding up into you with deep, purposeful strokes and you feel him twitch before he groans out, long and low as he comes. 

Marcus pulls out, watching the pearly white fluid drip out of you, gathering it on his pulsing head and slips it back inside you. 

You both mewl together as he does it, his face falling into your chest and sighing out. 

“Wow…”

“Yeah.” You agree breathlessly. 

“Stunning,” Marcus whispers as he runs his nose up your cheek and plants another kiss against your smooth crown. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You smile, eyelashes fluttering against his jaw as you wrap him tightly in your arms, never wanting to let him go.

You know that right here, in this moment and held in the safety of his arms, you’ve found something truly special. 

“You still wanna stay?” He asks you. 

You nod, smiling with a satiated beam. “If you’ll have me?”

“I’ll always have you. And I’ll always want you.” Marcus says.

The cap feels so soft and silken against your skin as you nestle down into the soft pillows, and watch Marcus come back in from the bathroom.

Gloriously naked and crawling up the bed, he trails kisses up your legs, stomach and neck until he reaches your lips. 

“Looks really good on you,” he compliments and you smile. 

“Thank you again,” you say, pulling him close. 

“Anything for you. I can’t wait to wake up with you in the morning,” he yawns, a lone finger trailing the rim of your cap and down your cheek. 

“Flaking out on me already, Agent?” You smirk as you wrap your legs around his hips. 

“Mmm, you’re insatiable, aren’t you?” Marcus grins, nuzzling into your neck and sucking it gently into his mouth.

He relaxes against you as you stroke patterns over his broad back. 

This feels good. Really good. A feeling you definitely want to get used to as you take in the feel of him crushed on top of you, arms holding you close, his hair tickling the bottom of your jaw.

This right here, is all you’ve ever wanted. And Marcus is willing to give it all to you. You feel like you've hit the jackpot and can’t stop grinning. 

“Marcus?” You whisper.

“Mmm?” He sighs softly. 

“Thank you for accepting the real me.” 

The gentle snuffles of his light snores soon fill the room and you beam, reaching up to stroke over the silk of the cap, smiling at how you’ve found such a caring and thoughtful man who thinks you’re incredibly beautiful.

And as you drift off to sleep, you're convinced you hear him whisper to you:"I love the real you..."

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Marcus, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

MARCUS PIKE MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fluff #bodies series #real bodies #diversity #inclusivity #every body is beautiful #jett's writing

[mi-rae07]

Choi San : A Marriage Not Of Love (Part 1/3)

Pairing : Choi San (Ateez) and named character (Kim So-won)

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Synopsis : San's grandfather had arranged his marriage with Sowon in order to hand their family company down to san, but sowon had fallen in love with him immediately. San had not, but knowing sowon would not marry otherwise he had pretended to love her. And so they got married, sowon truly wanting to devote her life to san and him pretending his smiles, love and care for his now wife.

But now that pretend facade is breaking down, and sowon is now aware of the fact that san does not really love her. But she loves him too much to leave, despite him being cruel and cold she still cannot bring herself to abandon the only man she has ever loved.

But will that crack too? Especially when san has a darker secret and past?

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A/n : the classic but I thought I should give it a small chance.

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The very first time san met Kim Sowon he knew she was the one. She was perfect, she touched his hand and caressed his face and he felt nothing. Right then and there he knew that she'd be perfect in a marriage with him, he would never be manipulated by her. He would never feel vulnerable, because he didn't love her. In fact, he felt nothing for sowon.

Sowon meanwhile had knew san was the one she'd wanted her entire life, because in the beginning he was perfect. He had touched her arms, held her in his warm embrace and she'd felt everything. The corny sparks, the butterflies, everything. His words were so perfect, his actions all to the point. So when he'd proposed her marriage, she'd agreed immediately. Their marriage had been 3 years ago and it was perfect, so was their honeymoon.

Until he had to cut the 2 month honeymoon off midway because he had some important work suddenly back in the country. But he'd made up for that. Until it kept happening regularly, and he kept getting worse and worse.

It had been a year since then and sowon was now sitting up in her bed at night, having had a nightmare as she breathed heavily. San frowned as he woke up from his sleep as well, sitting up straight as he looked at his wife

San : what's wrong?

Not that san cared, but he supposed he had to pretend so she doesn't break this marriage off. It was important for him to stay married in order to continue as the chairman of the company, his grandfather believed in familial values and believed that if a man couldn't handle his own family and his own wife, love her and make her stay, then he definitely couldn't handle a company.

Sowon : you…you know that you're my husband right?

San chuckled, his hand sliding down her arm and back up again as he said

San : yes, my lovely wife, I am well aware that I am your husband. Did you wake me up in the middle of the night to remind me of our marriage?

Sowon shook her head as she said lowly

Sowon : your friend yena told me that you had gone out for coffee with her the day before yesterday.

It was all yena had been boasting about during some party, as if san were her husband and not sowon's.

San : I did, yes. Is something wrong with that, she's my friend.

Sowon : but san-ah you know I dislike her.

San raised his eyebrows as he said, his tone now defensive

San : are you asking me to stop being friends with someone just because you dislike them, is that it? That sounds rather controlling, don't you think?

Sowon looked at san as she said

Sowon : I just don't think her intentions with you are well.

San : and what exactly do you think her intentions with me are, sowon?

Sowon looked away, shaking her head as she decided not to have this conversation. After all san was right, she was being controlling. San never told her what friends to have and not have.

Sowon : will you go out for tea with me tomorrow, then?

San frowned at the sudden question, he wanted to say no but he knew he couldn't. and so he laid back against the bed before saying

San : of course I will. Whenever you ask, I'll be there. But just know, the tea is on you.

Sowon smiled as she laid back on san's arms, wrapping her own around his waist before saying

Sowon : I love you, san.

San hated this part the most, the part where she sounded so genuine with her love for him. Like she could do anything for him, when he was just deceiving her for his own benefits. But even so he wrapped his arm around her even though there was no warmth or affection to it, and sowon could feel it. As she had for the past year, she was no fool.

San : I love you too.

Sowon shut her eyes as she realized there was no meaning behind that sentence for him, just words he knew he had to say to make her stay with him.

______________________________

It had been 3 hours since sowon was sitting in the café, waiting for san to appear. The waitresses had come and gone, asking her if she was ready to order or leave. She’d ordered some water, if that was even an actual order and waited. Now she just growing embarrassed and angry. Just then she felt the door opening, san stepping in as if he was just on time.

As he saw her sitting at the corner table he smiled, walking towards her and sitting down before saying nonchalantly

San : have you ordered something?

Sowon : where have you been?

San : work, doing my own things.

San's body language screamed the fact that he did not want to be here although his words differed, and sowon hated it. She looked down at her empty plate as she said

Sowon : I've been waiting 3 hours.

San : and? I told you I was busy, I'm here right now though aren't I?

Sowon : you could've at least texted me that you'd be hours late.

San : I didn't have the time.

At this point san wasn't even pretending to care, he clearly looked as if he didn't want to be here and had better things to do.

Sowon : san you love me, don't you?

San : yes, of course I love you.

So emotionless, so cold and distant.

Sowon : then why…why do you not act like it?

Sowon's voice was now shaky from tears, and san didn't seem to care one bit. He just stared at her for a while before saying in a cool tone

San : I treat you well, don't I? I care for you, I protect you, I make sure you have everything you want and need.

He said all this but he had no love in his tone, his voice annoyed and impatient.

Sowon : what I want and need is you, san. I don't want all this money and these stupid dresses. I want you, I want my husband.

San : and you have me. I'm here, aren't I?

His voice was cold, but he kept that smile that looked practiced and unnatural. And seeing that made tears stream down sowon's cheeks, her lips trembling as she pressed them together. San huffed as he said

San : are you finished or are you going to keep complaining some more?

Sowon shook her head before wiping her tears away with her shaky hands

Sowon : I can see you don't want me here, so you don't have to force yourself. I'm leaving, and I'm sorry.

Sowon turned to leave, hoping san would stop her. But even as she walked outside the café he did not stop her, as if he was happy she'd left. And so as she rushed to her house she felt sobs spilling out her lips, the people around looking at her in confusion.

But she didn’t care, the person she wanted to look at her couldn't bother to even sit with her for fifteen minutes.

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Sowon was now sitting in their bed, san silently reading a book next to her on the bed with his back rested against the headboard. Sowon had waited for san to say something when he came back after what happened today afternoon, maybe an apology or an explanation as to why right after sowon had left and walked a few distance, she had seen san walking along with another lady to some shop. It had hurt sowon more than she could imagine, considering that this lady seemed to get san’s attention and time more than she did.

Sowon : did you have fun with that lady after I was gone from the café?

San looked up from his book with a frown, he hadn’t realised she’d seen that.

San : yes we went out to a shop to buy somethings, why? I didn’t think you’d care.

Sowon scoffed as she said

Sowon : of course, in your books a wife would not care about her husband going out and having fun with another lady when he can't even meet the wife in her eyes.

San rolled his eyes before looking back at his book as he said

San : can you stop being jealous of every other lady I talk to? Besides Oh Mina is a co-worker, we went out to choose an appropriate dress for the coming party. You're being paranoid.

Sowon : I'm being paranoid? This is called as loving someone, san. I agreed to marry you for the same reason, and I had thought you did too. Did you marry me because you loved me or because you just had to, san?

San : of course I married you because I loved you, because I cared for you. I married you because you mean so much to me, sowon.

And yet he wasn't looking at her, his words so cold and distant.

Sowon : your words…they all sound so empty.

San raised his eyebrows, getting annoyed at her words as he asked

San : are you trying to say that my loving words mean nothing? Accusing me of lying now, are you?

Sowon sighed, looking away as she said in a low tone

Sowon : you just use words, san, you never show your love to me. Ever.

San let out a tired breath as he said

San : can we not have this conversation right now? It's late and I'm tired. You're just thinking too much, sowon. We don't always need to be all over each other and expressing our love. We're married, and that's all that matters.

San kept his book away as he laid back down on the bed with a sigh before looking at sowon who was just staring at him with hurt eyes silently

San : stop with the puppy eyes, please. We're married and this is normal. The lovey-dovey, all over each other phase was just in the start of the relationship, the honeymoon phase.

Sowon chuckled sarcastically as she said

Sowon : we never even had a proper honeymoon phase, did we san? You cut it off half way through because you had important work, apparently.

San : and what about it? Isn't the fact that I had work to do a good enough excuse? You're acting as if I cut it off just to avoid being around you.

Sowon : you do avoid being around me.

Sowon's voice was low, her eyes drooped as san huffed and rolled his eyes again before saying

San : I avoid being around you now because you're just plain annoying. You're the whole reason why I don't even come up to the room until it's late at night. What's the point of sleeping in the same bed as someone who keeps complaining about you the entire night.

Sowon felt her heart break at his words as she felt tears threatening to spill, but she wouldn't let it. And so she stood up and grabbed a pillow before saying

Sowon : then don't, I'll sleep somewhere else.

Sowon turned to walk towards the door as san said nonchalantly

San : go ahead, sleep in the guest room if you want to. It's not as if I care about where you sleep anyway.

Sowon shut the door as she climbed up the stairs to the terrace, her body shaking from the tears as she cried. She didn't know why she was still staying in this marriage when san clearly didn't love her. She should be divorcing him, ruining his life, but she just couldn't. She was too weak.

Sowon opened the door to the terrace before stepping in, going over to the corner as she put the pillow on the floor before laying down as well. It was in the middle of December and there was snow falling all around her, it was freezing cold and she was only wearing a sheer silk night dress. But sowon supposed the terrible cold might distract her from the pain she was feeling.

It didn't, especially considering the fact that today had been her birthday and that being the reason why she'd wanted to go for tea with her husband. But not only had they not gone, he even said hurtful words to her and now she was sleeping in the terrace, shivering with cold already.

Sowon shut her eyes as tears streaked down them, small weak sobs falling from her lips. It wasn't like anyone would care to hear them anyway.

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San had been eating his breakfast alone the next morning when he saw sowon entering the dining table with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her entire body shivering and looking like it was about to pass out any minute. San frowned as he realized she was terribly ill, and she was still here.

San : you should be in bed, what are you doing here?

Sowon let out a low groan as she sat in her usual place and stared at the food in front of her before saying weakly

Sowon : I always eat with you during breakfast before you go to work.

San's eyes slightly softened at her words and how ill she seemed to be, and she was still here to be with him.

San : but you should be in bed. Why aren't you feeling well?

Sowon lowered her eyes as she said in a quiet tone

Sowon : because I was sleeping in the terrace last night.

San's eyes widened as he looked at the window next to him, seeing that it was still snowing continuously. When she'd walked out of the room he had expected her to either go to some guest room or walk back in and sleep in their bed a few hours later. He looked back at sowon before asking

San : you were sleeping in the terrace? In this weather?

Sowon said nothing and that only caused san worry at her state of being.

San : why didn't you come in? why didn't you come back to bed, sowon?

Sowon : because you basically threw me out, san. You said you didn't want to sleep in the same bed as someone like me because all I did was complain and waste your time. That's what you said last night, right?

San went silent for a few seconds, not knowing what to say. Now he felt like this was his fault that she was so sick. Sowon let out a shaky breath as she hugged herself from the cold before saying

Sowon : leave it be.

San : why would you listen to my words like that and sleep in the bloody terrace, sowon?

Sowon : just forget about it, san.

San : like hell I'm going to forget about it! Don't you know how unsafe that is, sleeping out in the open like that? What if something bad happened to you, huh?

Sowon : then just marry someone else, marry yena.

San clenched his jaw as sowon mentioned yena's name yet again. Why did she never understand?

San : I am not going to marry shin yena. I'm married to you and I'm going to stay married to you.

Sowon didn't understand why san was getting so riled up over her potential death. Sowon scoffed as she said

Sowon : if I died that wouldn't matter anymore, so stop talking about it as if it's a great deal.

San stared at sowon for a few seconds, the anger in his eyes disappearing as he said in a cold tone

San : fine, it wouldn't matter to me. But you know what would? The insurance money I'd get for you dying under these circumstances, and trust me it would be a hell lot of money.

Sowon looked up at that, her eyes teary and broken from his words. How could he say things like this so easily, without a single care of what it would do to her?

Sowon : am I this worthless to you?

Her voice broke, causing san to freeze. Before he could say anything sowon said

Sowon : you don't even…I'm still utterly alone in this world.

She was bringing back the fact that she was an orphan again, something san hated hearing.

San : oh don't start that again. You're such a dramatic person sowon, you seriously need to stop.

A tear fell from sowon's eyes as she stood up, turning towards the maids before saying in a cold tone

Sowon : I don't want breakfast, feed it to the dogs.

San frowned at that as he said in a firm voice

San : what, no. Sit back down. You're barely able to stand and you expect me to just let you go hungry?

San's tone betrayed slight worry, but sowon could care less as she glared at san before saying

Sowon : yes, I do expect you to do that.

Sowon turned to leave, not saying anything more. San let out a breath as he stood up from his seat, rushing towards sowon and holding her arm to make her stop. He paused at how hot her arms felt to his cold touch, she really was sick

San : don't. I said sit back down.

San started pulling sowon back to her seat as she tried weakly fighting against his hold, knowing there was going to be no use already.

Sowon : let me go!

San : no. you're not walking around in this condition, especially without having eaten anything.

San pushed sowon down on her seat gently before saying, his voice final

San : you're going to sit right here and eat before you do anything else.

Sowon : I don't want to eat! I told you I wasn't bloody hungry.

San glared right back at her before saying

San : I don't care if you're not hungry, sowon, you don't even look capable of walking right now so I'm forcing you to eat.

Sowon : san-

San : you can't survive on an empty stomach alone with this fever. So you're going to stay here and eat, even if I have to shove that food down your throat myself.

Sowon looked away from san, still not bothering to eat. He sighed, saying in a more softer tone now

San : eat, sowon.

Sowon stared at the food as she felt tears in her eyes again, at how san was being and the pathetic situation she was in.

Sowon : what can't you just leave me be, san?

San's irritation melted away when he saw sowon's eyes tearing up, especially when she was shivering so much because of the cold and all because he was being so cruel to her. He took a deep breath before loosening his hold on her arm as he said, softer than ever

San : come on, just have a little something to eat, please sowon-ah.

Sowon sniffled as she took the spoon in her shaky hands, feeding herself some soup as tears streamed down my cheeks. She hated this, deciding she wasn't going to talk to him now.

San stayed silent as he watched sowon eat, feeling relieved that she was finally eating something. He had been sitting opposite her for a few minutes when he saw that she was still shivering slightly, causing him worry again as he asked

San : are you still feeling cold?

Sowon took a big gulp of her soup before saying

Sowon : it doesn't matter.

And to her utter annoyance she shivered right after those words, proving it entirely wrong. San sighed as he said

San : it does matter, you might end up with a fever worse than this if you keep going on like this.

San watched as sowon finished her soup, realizing she wasn't going to talk to him.

San : just come here.

Sowon : no, I don't need it.

Her voice was still shaky as her tears continued to wet her clothes, she didn't want san to think she had no self-respect. But he didn't care about that, her health was more important than some stupid self-respect. San stared at her before hardening his voice as he said

San : come here. Right now.

Sowon pressed her trembling lips together as she got up from her seat and walked towards san who was sitting a bit away from her, sowon feeling pathetic once again. San pulled her by the arm towards him as she fell onto his lap, him wrapping his arms around her immediately as he began rubbing her cold shoulders to keep her warm.

He could see that the maids had left already, leaving them all alone.

San : shh, I'll take care of you.

Sowon shut her eyes tightly as more tears streamed down her cheeks, her lips wobbling as she tried to keep herself from crying out loud. San ran his hand along her shoulders as he whispered gently

San : it's okay, you're going to be okay sowon-ah.

Sowon broke down in his arms at those words as she sobbed against his chest, her painful cries filling the now empty dining hall as san rested his head against the top of hers. He was comforting her when the reason of her tears were him, how ironic for them.

San : I'm so sorry. It's going to be alright.

Sowon knew nothing was going to be alright, she knew he didn't care and never would. And as if he had heard her thoughts he said softly

San : I do care, sowon.

Sowon shook her head, sniffling as she said brokenly

Sowon : you…you don't. You don't care even the-even the slightest. You're just doing this because you have no other choice san.

San pressed his lips together as he let his hand run through her hair and he suddenly felt guilty at how weak sowon sounded. This was all his fault, and that realization hit him harder than ever before as he held sowon's weak body in his arms.

San : I never should've done this to you.

Sowon finally let her arms wrap around san's neck as she felt the fever making her dizzy and more vulnerable. And so she whispered sadly

Sowon : I love you, I know you don't love me and never will but I don't care about any of that. I will still love you, san.

San : I…

San did not know what to say, he just knew he didn't deserve that from her. At all.

San : do you know how foolish it is to say those words to me?

Sowon : I don't care, I don't bloody care how foolish or pathetic it is.

San's arms tightened around sowon's now light body as he realized that the fever and pain was taking a toll on her, he was destroying her and it felt like his heart cracked for the first time in years. He felt a lump form in his throat as he whispered

San : I don't deserve that.

San felt sowon's body get heavier, her arms around him loosening as he realized she was slowly falling asleep. San kept rocking her back and forth as his grip around her tightened, bringing her even closer to his chest as he tried to keep her as warm as possible.

San : I'm so sorry won-ah.

San held the side of her head as he kissed her forehead, feeling her feverish body nuzzle even closer to him as she mumbled his name, half asleep. That brought a sad smile to san's lips as he wrapped the shawl tighter around her so she'd feel as warm as possible. And just like that his wife had fallen asleep in his arms for the first time ever.

San fell into a small trance as he realized that she'd fallen asleep against him, all cuddled up and warm. He stayed silent as he cradled her in his arms and felt the warmth of her body against his. His hand continued rubbing her shoulders as he felt his heart well up with emotions.

Sowon was like a small, innocent child when she was alseep, and he could never hate her when she was being like this. Not that he could hate her otherwise either, but he had to pretend. He just had to.

San ran his hands along her hair as he rocked her back and forth before whispering in a broken tone

San : happy belated birthday my love.

San closed his eyes as a tear slipped past the corner of his eyes, remembering the whole reason behind their fucked up marriage.

___________________________________

FLASHBACK :

San had been kneeling down against his mother's grave, his eyes red and teary from all the crying he had done the past 2 days. He hated himself, and the crescent shaped cuts in his palm along with the various other cuts in his body that was covered by his suit indicated it.

Soohyun : you dare cry at the grave of the woman you caused the death of, you filthy bastard?

San flinched and looked up to face his brother who was now glaring down at him, his eyes red as well. San felt more tears slip past his eyes as he said

San : I'm so sorry, hyung. I'm so sorry I didn't mean to-

Soohyun : you didn't mean to stab your own mother?

San flinched at his words, still remembering his own mother's blood in his hands, her dead body falling limp against him. It was an accident, he thought she was someone else. He was trapped in that place, it was so dark and he was so scared, he hadn't heard anyone's voice for weeks. He didn't know it was his mother, he had no idea when he spilt all his anger at the masked figure in front of him whom he thought was his captive.

He had only realized it was his beloved mother when he heard her strangled groan, her bloodied hands coming up to hold his cheek as it smeared her own blood on it. He could still feel it, like a burn against his skin.

Soohyun : she had come to save you, she'd risked her own life to go to that place and get you out and you…you killed her.

San sobbed at his brother's words, hugging his legs as san begged pathetically

San : please forgive me, I'm so sorry please forgive me hyung. I didn't kn-know, it was an accident please.

Soohyun kicked his younger brother away from him with disgust, staring down at him with such hatred san felt his heart break into pieces.

Soohyun : you took the one person I loved away from me, and one day I will do the same to you. One day when you marry, and have your wife that you love so much, I will kill her the same way you killed my mother. I will drain her off her blood brutally and have you watch it, choi san. I will make you regret ever having loved her.

And just like that soohyun had left a broken san behind, his wails ringing around the empty graveyard as he felt his life crumble upon him. He remembered sowon then, the young lady his grandfather had found for him to get married to because he wanted the company to go down to san and not soohyun. He remembered the way she had looked at him so softly, smiling at him with so much love.

He had loved her too, but now he couldn't. because loving her meant causing her death, soohyun would kill her. And not marrying her would mean his grandfather would give the company to soohyun, and given his character san could only imagine the destruction he'd bring with that much power.

And so he'd made the decision, to marry kim sowon but never love her.

__________________________________

#ateez ff #kpop fluff #angst #ateez #ff #fluff #kpop ff #ateez angst #ateez fluff #kpop angst #san #choi san #san angst #san fluff #san ff #san fanfic #san au #san imagine #san imagines #ateez fic #san fic #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez au #san x oc #choi san angst

[kasagia]

In the last chapter of Right Hand, Feyd said he could just leave her behind and take other women without any problems if that's what she wanted; forced her into a confession; never confessed his own feelings; wants to kill people she was intimate with in the past, when he still has his harpies; his bullshit with Irulan; injected her with truth serum.... He basically treated her like a glorified concubine (the woman he supposedly loves) and her reaction is to act like a retarded school girl??? But my main question is: how does she not react about him saying that he could just leave her behind and have other women without any problems? He acts like he does not give a shit about her, only that he's mad that her attention is on others.

Dear Anonymous, thank you very much for your thoughts!

I'm going to play a bit of devil's advocate here and explain the actions of our boy and reader, so let's get started.

First of all, it is worth pointing out that the relationship between the reader and Feyd is not normal. They both have attraction towards each other, sexual desire, and so on. Of course, that's not all, because they feel something for each other: attachment (to some extent), admiration, respect, possessiveness (on both sides), and they like being close to each other. Nevertheless everything that happens between them is not healthy, sugary, or an example of how a relationship should be.

But back to the answer to the main question (how does she not react about him saying that he could just leave her behind and have other women without any problems? He acts like he does not give a shit about her, only that he's mad that her attention is on others.):

"(...) Is this what you want? For me to take another woman? For me to treat her the way I treat you? For me to leave you on this damn desert? Because I can, Y/N. I can fuck the other women, become emperor the easy way, and give you damn Arrakis, but you have to look me in the eyes and tell me that's what you really want."

Feyd doesn't say he wants to do that. He says he can if the reader wants to reject him or if she is sure she doesn't want him. (So technically, it is: I love you; you are important to me; I won't force you to do anything if you don't want to; but I won't be alone forever waiting for you to decide whether you want me or not.) And he asks such questions when she is under the influence of truth serum, because he knows that she will never admit to him what she really feels by herself and willingly.

Feyd has never loved anyone before; he has never had a normal relationship. That's why he resorts to what he knows: plotting, planning, and extracting the truth by force (poor Fevas). These are his ways. The boy here is just desperate. He must know the truth; he must find out whether the reader loves him or is just taking advantage of him, because temporarily it is convenient for her to be close to him.

And the reader understands that Feyd sees no other way, that he resorts to something like this to get the truth from her. Which doesn't change the fact that she's mad at him for it, but... the reader resists him for so long; everyone must have their moments of weakness, right? And Feyd proved in this chapter that he cares about this reader (not with words, but with actions; I will give examples later).

I think he is too harmed and guarded/self-protective to hover around the reader and shout that he loves her, to allow himself to be completely vulnerable with her, and to express his love and devotion in words. Therefore, Feyd's love language (here) is actions.

"You almost died." "You're exaggerating this. I thought you of all people won't be afraid of the sight of a little blood." You respond dismissively, which only makes his mood worse. (...) "I simply don't enjoy holding your almost lifeless body in my arms. I much prefer it when your heart beats strongly against your chest... like now."

Feyd, as we know him, does not hesitate to take someone's life; he likes to hurt people. But seeing the reader's blood? Having her bloos on his hands? Hold her as she fights death? It doesn't make him happy; hurting her isn't pleasant for him if... it's not intended to increase pleasure and sensations. (I think I wrote somewhere that the boy ordered to burn his clothes and hers from that day so that he wouldn't be reminded of it.)

"Don't kill him." You ask him, knowing full well that he will refuse. But despite everything, you cling to this stupid hope, not knowing why you care so much about keeping Fevas alive. "Why?" "Because I ask you. Please." For the first time, you look at him desperately, knowing full well that all you can do is beg him to change his mind. Because if Feyd Rautha Harkonnen decides that someone is going to die, then even the Grim Reaper won't be able to save the poor man from him.

Here. Fevas was… quite tortured by Feyd, but he kept him alive. He wouldn't listen to just anyone once he had decided something, but he made an exception for the reader.

"I am a Bene Gesserit. I don't love anyone." You answer coldly and without emotion. He stares at you for a moment before pushing you away from him. He no longer looks you in the eyes, though his eyes are still glued to your half-naked form. He stays in silent reverie for a moment, then breaks it with a bitter, hoarse laugh, shaking his head. "And I am a Harkonnen. We don't obey anyone." He growls impassively and pushes you away to get to the door. He returns to the party, closing the metal door behind him with a loud bang.

Our boy's black, rotten heart was slightly hurt here. Because how can his little witch say that? So, in an act of rebellion, he went to Irulan, knowing full well that it would hurt the reader as much as she hurt him. Yes, it's not healthy, but that's Feyd: If you hurt me and show me that you don't want me, I will go and show you that I am not a pathetic guy who is head over heels in love and that you have no control over me. (He failed miserably because, immediately after her leaving, he caught up with Fevas to find out the truth about his relationship with the reader.)

"The little witch shouldn't listen to this old man. The master likes the little witch very much. He threatened to kill us if we did anything to her." You frown at her sudden confession, but you don't question why she's doing it. You decide to brush it off. "I think we both know that he... likes to break his favourite toys only by himself." "But not a little witch. When the little witch was bleeding, the master became furious. The master almost killed his uncle when he ordered him to kill the little witch. The master watched over the little witch until the doctors said that the little witch would survive. And he told us to guard her door while he went away to kill the people who hurt her."

And the last one (because it's very late and I should go to sleep xD).

Would Feyd go against his uncle for anyone? NO. He wouldn't give a damn if his uncle told him to kill one of his harpies. He would just do it. But the reader? Fuck no.

Feyd still keeps the harpies close; it's true, but it's more out of sentiment. Because they were a little close to him, but now he spends nights and days with the reader, and since... he became a little close to her (*cough* trying to fuck her *cough*), he doesn't go to them and doesn't spend time with them. He treats them rather as... useful pets. Guard dogs.

To sum up, it may seem that Feyd doesn't give a damn about her, but to me, he must be so... conservative in showing his emotions. He will do it through small actions rather than words (which the reader notices; after all, she knows him best; they communicate without words).

He is extremely jealous of the reader, possessive and paranoid, because he is afraid that she will eventually run away from him, that she will get scared and leave him when he falls in love with her. He is afraid that he will give her everything he has; he will give her his heart on a platter only for her to trample on it, chew it up, and throw it away. So, he won't do it until he's 10000% sure that the reader really loves him and isn't going anywhere.

I hope you understand what I mean and what I wanted to show. 😅🙈

Thank you very much, anonymous, for your question and I'm sorry I wrote so much! Have a nice day/night! 😊🩵🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🖤🩵🖤🖤🩵🖤🖤🩵🖤🖤🩵🖤🖤🩵🖤

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd supremacy #anon ask #anonymous #thanks anon!

[kangnina]

MDNI - Rich!Jungwon 4

Jungwon Masterlist

“Should I be worried?” you say, brushing your hair as you look at Jungwon’s reflection in your vanity mirror. He climbs off the bed and walks up behind you, kissing the top of your head.

“No, having a guard assigned to you is just a standard precautionary measure. Please don’t be afraid, Jagiya,” Jungwon says, rubbing your shoulders.

“Is it because of your dad?” you whisper.

“What? No. I mean… yeah, he’s a pain in my ass but he’s not stupid enough to even think about actually hurting you.” You turn on your stool to face him.

“Jungwon, I know how he feels about me. I’ve seen the news articles. I knew marrying you could cause problems–” He kneels in front of you, tightly holding your hands.

“You are not causing problems! Don’t ever say that to me again. It’s just an adjustment period for everyone. My mom and I are taking care of this situation with Yang International. So please focus on your classes, okay?” He kisses your hands, smiling. You nod your head. He slips his fingers up your bare thigh. Your silk robe falling open to expose your panties. He smirks, dimples on full display. He lifts your leg over his bare shoulder. 

“Oh no you don’t, mister. I need sleep. I have two tests in the morning,” you say, pressing your hand to his face to stop him before he dips his head between your legs. He chuckles. 

“Just a taste, kitten. A little lick. Please…” he begs. You shake your head. He drops your leg and sighs defeatedly before standing up. “Okay. You’re right. Sleep is important…” He suddenly grabs you, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“JUNGWON! NO!” You smack his ass with your hand. He smacks your ass in return before throwing you on the bed. You try to crawl away but he grabs your leg, pulling you back. Jungwon climbs on top of you as you giggle. He attacks your face with kisses, grinding his erection against your pussy. 

“You can give it to me or I can take it from you. What’s it gonna be?” he says huskily. You push him over, straddling him momentarily before he rolls you over. Too far, too fast and over the edge of the bed. “Oh fuck!” you shout as you both land onto the floor. Banging heads. “Shit baby. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” he reaches for your head and you smack his hand away. 

“This is what happens when you get greedy!” you groan, rubbing your head.

—----------------- 

“Tell her about the upcoming exhibit,” Jungwon says excitedly as he takes a bite of his eggs. You look at him nervously with big eyes. He nods encouragingly. His mom looks at you expectantly as she takes a sip of her coffee. With all the buzz of the media, the chaos between him and his dad over YI, Jungwon is trying his best to make you feel comfortable in his world. Which meant inviting his mom over for brunch one Saturday. He had a huge smile on his face when he told her that he prepared the meal all by himself. It made you happy, seeing him so happy that he accomplished a simple domestic task. 

“Uh, yes. It’s in three weeks. My whole class actually. It’s not just me. But I’ll have to decide which piece I feel truly represents my journey as an artist.” You smile shyly and Jungwon squeezes your hand. 

“That sounds lovely. May I attend?” she asks, smiling. You see the uncanny resemblance. Not just the dimples. Everything from her soft eyes to her nose and her genuine smile. Thank god he also inherited her endearing personality. 

“Of course, I’ll send you the final details as soon as I know them.”

“You know, the Met Gala is also in a few weeks. We attend it every year. But I know it’s not really one of Jungwon's favorite events to attend. Would you like to accompany me instead?” she asks. Your jaw hits the floor and Jungwon laughs. He tips your chin up to close your mouth.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a ‘yes’, mom.” You nod your head so hard, it just might roll off your neck.

“Wonderful. Finally, someone else in the family who appreciates art as much as I do,” she says with a wink.

@nyfwyeonjun @maymarrylhs @nyxtwixx @ilabjungwon @enha-ism @belowbun @emi-en @mydearestwonnie @woniesprincess04 @snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark @wildflowermooon

#enhypen #kpop smut #enhypen smut #jungwon #kpop imagines #enha #sunghoon #yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon enhypen #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #jungwon smut #enhypen fanfic #enha fluff #enha smut #enha au #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen yang jungwon #enha jungwon #enhypen x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction #jungwon au #jungwon imagines #yang jungwon imagines #enha imagines #enha yang jungwon

[delirious-donna]

Higuruma Hiromi is not a good cook by any stretch of the imagination. However, it is not for a lack of trying.

At first, you put it down to a lack of caring in his formative years, too many hours spent studying or in the company of his few close friends to care much about what food he was putting into his body.

Instant ramen. Convenience store fried chicken. String cheese. Pre-made onigiri. These were the major food groups that sustained him, all washed down with copious amounts of instant coffee and soda when he was feeling fancy.

His eating habits might have improved since he was a young man in his late teens, early twenties, but it was still a fight to ensure he ate nutritiously and regularly. These days he smiles when his phone lights up with a picture he captured of you, a candid snap when you weren’t expecting it and your smile shines bright and genuine. The conversation always remains the same…

“Did you eat lunch yet?”

“No, but I’m walking to the kitchen as we speak.”

“Hiro… you know I worry.”

“I know you worry, darling. It’s okay, I’m fine. Oh! You made octopus hotdogs today, yum!”

Hiromi doesn’t dismiss your worry, in fact, he tries very hard to alleviate it by converting into a home cook. He sees how happy you are when you’re making tasty food and he wants a slice of that joy for himself.

The first time he proudly presented you his efforts, dark mahogany eyes beaming and his chest puffed out proudly, you did your best not to grimace at the blackened char of unidentifiable lumps on the plate. There was no way you would discourage him, surely he would improve if he kept at it, but it was almost impossible not to immediately spit out the tiniest bite you’d spooned into your mouth. You weren’t sure how something could taste both raw and overcooked at the same time.

So, you encourage him. You show him how to hold a knife so his fingers don’t become covered in small plasters. How to boil water in a pot… something you never thought would be necessary. You explain that he should taste and season as he cooks. The importance of not simply whacking the heat on max for everything.

He takes detailed notes. His face scrunched into concentration that is normally reserved for working cases, and not how to cook spaghetti bolognese. His tongue sticks between his teeth and you have to stifle your amusement at how damn adorable he appears within the confines of your small kitchen.

Unfortunately, no amount of enthusiasm could undo the curse that seems to have been bestowed on your husband. The end result always tastes somehow… off, but never in the same way. It hurts your heart when his face crumples like a balled up piece of kitchen towel, so much so that you vow to continue trying whatever he concocts.

So yes, Higuruma Hiromi is not a good cook, but his enthusiasm to repay the delight you gift him with your cooking will never wane. Your husband loves you without measure, even if he might give you food poisoning on occasion…

#delirious writes #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x reader #higuruma fluff #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader

[thatnewweeb]

Protective Boys | Blue Lock

Characters | Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Bachira Meguru, Kunigami Rensuke

Content | Fluff, kinda jealousy, just so sweet

A/N | I just love them so much

Itoshi Rin

Whenever you're talking, he'll always pay close attention to you. If he isn't doing something else while talking with you, he'll lean towards you slightly and keep eye contact to show that he's interested in what you're saying, and he'll hum, nod and make little comments throughout to prove he's listening.

If you're with a group, he'll listen to you over anyone else. Even if no one else is listening to you, he always will. If other people are talking too loudly while you're trying to speak, he'll tell them to shut up so that you can say what you wanted to.

It's important to him that you feel heard, and like he will always listen to you. He cares about you, after all, he wants to always hear what you have to say.

Itoshi Sae

Whenever you go anywhere together that he knows people will pay attention to him, particularly people like reporters or paparazzi, he will make sure to shield you from them to protect your privacy.

When he notices people looking at you guys when you're out on dates, he'll move so that he's blocking you from their view. When you go to his games, he'll give you one of his oversized hoodies so you can hide your face better until you're inside and away from as many prying eyes.

It's important to him that you're able to live a normal life, however you want to, and the attention he gets should not impact that. He just want you to be comfortable and happy.

Bachira Meguru

If anyone is ever rude to you, or flirts with you, this man is immediately ready to throw hands. He's willing to fight anyone that he feels is being threatening to you in anyway. He just wants to protect you.

If you are out together, he will be sticking as close to you as he can, not wanting to leave you alone for a second. He'll notice every single person that even glances at you, making sure to keep notes of the people that looked at you in a way he didn't like.

Your sweet and goofy boyfriend can switch up in a second when he returns from the bathroom or from getting you a drink and finds someone talking to you, their face way too close to yours. His glare sends chills down your spine, even though you know he would never direct a look like that at you. You can only imagine how it feels to be looked at that way, especially when he says that they can discuss it outside if there's a problem.

Kunigami Rensuke

He'll do a lot of very tiny things that he doesn't even notice he does, like pulling you away from the stove if there's hot oil spitting in your direction, and placing his hand on corners when he notices if looks like you may bump into it.

It's very important to him that you're safe and nothing happens to you, no matter how small it may be. He would hate to have you get even a little bit hurt while you're with him.

It is possibly the sweetest thing ever when you bump into his hand and realise that it was covering a corner so you wouldn't bruise yourself. It really shows how much he loves and cares for you.

#blue lock #bllk #kunigami #bachira #itoshi #kunigami rensuke #bachira meguru #itoshi sae #itoshi rin #blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #kunigami imagines #bachira imagines #itoshi rin imagines #itoshi sae imagines #itoshi imagines #kunigami fluff #bachira fluff #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi sae fluff

[veren-cos]

You Will Be Okay

Astarion (Bg3) x reader

TW: Mentions of Self Harm. Do not read this if this will trigger you or make you uncomfortable. If you struggle with self-harm or suicidal thoughts, I strongly recommend you reach out to someone.

Over 2k words. Probably. I don't know how to get a word count in my notes app 😭

Not proof read

"I think I hate myself." It slipped out. Fuck. It slipped out, you didn't mean to say that. Not right now. Not when everything was going so well?

Astarion stood there, tensed up. "What?" His face was flickering between concern, and confusion, and... whatever else that was.

You weren't going to repeat it. You couldn't. You were already panicking from saying it once, you couldn't imagine saying it again. Much less having a conversation about this. "I need to go." You said, too loud for talking, but too quiet to be considered a yell.

"OH no you don't" He grabbed you by the wrist as you were turning out the door. "We need to talk about this."

"I can't. No... No. No no no no nonono I can't—I can't do this. I can't do this astarion not today not toda-" You were pulling away, but that only tightened his grip. He pulled you into a hug. And although it was a loose one, it still made you feel trapped.

"Okay. Compromise. You've shown me how important those are." You looked at him, still panicked, but you were willing to hear him out. "You can go. But!"

Of course there was a but.

"only if I come with you. And!"

Another condition?

"Only if we talk about it when we come back. We don't have to talk at all while we are out. I'd prefer it, but it isn't a necessity. I just need you to not be alone. Either way, someone needs to be with you. Whether it's me, or say... one of our other companions? If you don't want this to linger in the air? I'm sure anyone of them would be happy to accompany you for an outing."

He was being. Suprisingly considerate about this. Accommodating. But now was not the time. You needed out, now.

You pulled out of the hug, fast. Not that it wasn't appreciated, but it was starting to feel more suffocating. "Alright. Alright. Okay. Yes. Fine. Good. Great. Awesome!" You felt a touch on your hand again. "Okay. Hoooo" you let out a breath. Then took a few more deep ones. "I'll take Gale. Is that okay? I mean you can come too but I really, really don't want to talk about this and if you're there I know I'll want to and I really can't." Your words were getting faster the more that came out. You took another breath, "But I will when we get back. Okay?"

"Okay. Be safe, I'll be around. I love you" Astarion sqeezed your hand tight, and then let go. He followed you and Gale out of camp, grateful (for once) that you and him were close.

Once Astarion saw you and Gale off, he made his way back his tent. Considering you weren't feeling the best, he knew he had roughly an hour to prepare.

You hated yourself? Blasphemy. Well... not blasphemy. He had seen you, the faint scars in the most random of places. Places that would be too well protected to be done by an enemy. The scars and cuts—just deep enough to have been recent, the constant torn skin around your fingertips. So he supposed he should have already known, but he didnt know you still felt this way.

He had plenty of experience hating himself, but he didn't dwell on it like you did. He swallowed his hatred and turned to bad habits - habits you were helping him fix. Now it was his turn to help you.

He had begun by cleaning. It wasn't necessarily messy, but he had seen your belongings and how they had gotten out of order. Once everything was in its proper place, he started to plan how to tackle this.

It wasn't something to be taken lightly, and it wasn't something that would be solved in a day. This conversation was a start, but it certainly wouldn't be the end. What did he bring up? How much could you handle? Did he mention that he had his suspicions, or did he leave that alone? Gods, this was hard. You've seemed so put together on your journey that he thought this was resolved a long time ago. When was the last time you'd hurt yourself?

Nothing much got accomplished in that hour, not that he could without you there. And before he knew it, you were home.

You sat down on a cushion, not having the luxury of a chair at the moment, and looked into Astarion's eyes. You knew you had to be the one to start this conversation. You knew it, but that doesn't mean you had to like it.

"Thank you," Astarion raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "for giving me space."

He gave a light smile, "of course. You have done the same for me countless times, and I know how hard these things can be. I will never pressure you into an immediate conversation. But, my dear, we need to talk about this. You can't be hating yourself. You are wonderful. I know some simple words of praise won't wash this away, but I need you to know that you are good."

Astarion came to sit next to you, close enough where you could feel his presence, but not be overwhelmed.

Feelings were bubbling up. Everything was coming up. You could feel tears start to stream down your face, falling whenever your breath shook your entire body with force. "I just hate everything. I hate myself. So much. Astarion, you don't know what things were like for me before. I was pitiful. You wouldn't have even spared me a thought."

You inturupted yourself with near hysterical sobbing. The thought of not being with him was too much to bear with all your emotions. "Go on. It's safe. You are safe here" He placed his hand atop yours and gave it a squeeze, like earlier.

"I. Uhm. I used cut myself. A lot. I know you've seen the reminents of it. I just." You took a minute to catch your breath before continuing. "I just couldn't tell you. Because there wasn't even a good reason for it."

"I didn't like the way I felt. I didn't like the way I looked. The way I acted? I felt like such a burden to everyone. And now I'm such a burden to you? And I know you'll just say that I'm not, but I should have been able to resolve this on my own. If I'd had my way, you would have never found out and thought my scars were from some brave battle. It wasn't a brave battle. It was self loathing."

You took another crying break. How long was this going to go on? How much of your guts would you spill before you broke?

"And I still think of it. All the time. I still hate myself. I still feel the urge to destroy myself in the only way I know how. But I can't afford to. I'm trying so hard to stay put together for everyone here. I want you all to live. But I really don't want that for myself."

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit, shit! Well now he knows everything. No turning back. Not that there was before, but your in too deep to even try and bury this.

He was sitting in front of you. You saw he was taking in everything you were saying at lighting speed, but you couldn't tell what he was thinking. He just kept rubbing circles into your palm, and handing you tissues at the appropriate moments.

You paused a bit too long for it to be considered normal in a conversation, so he urged you to continue. "Darling, I won't judge. It's okay, you can keep going."

You once again took some deep breaths. "I uhm... I tried to kill myself a while back? It didn't work, clearly, but the thought of it never truly went away. I uhm.

...

I still.. want to? And it's not that I'm unhappy, don't get me wrong! Every moment of joy has been genuine. But it's all being muffled by a blanket of sorrow and despair? That is dramatic oh hells. But yeah. I think uh. I think it's all out now?"

You sighed, both scared and relieved. You didn't want him to think that you didn't love him just because you didn't want to be here. You loved him so much it was probably one of the few things keeping you. Not that you would tell him. That is too much of a burden to put on one person.

So this is what you've been thinking. It explained a lot. The seemingly random guilty looks, and the distance whenever he tried to get closer. He had stopped pursuing you as a form of protection and deceit a while ago, but he had always thought that was the reason for your distance.

Now it was his turn for the big breaths. "My love." He drawled out the endearment. "It's okay. You're okay. We will get through this. You will get through this. Can I hug you?"

You nodded before he grasped you tightly.

"I'm right here. And I will be with you every step. Every setback you have. You can fall back on me"

He stroked through your hair once again, holding you tight into his chest, "Thank you for telling me. Now, this will be something that comes up every once in a while, okay? I know it won't be a comfortable topic but check-ins are necessary. I need to know how you're doing, because," He paused just enough for dramatic flair, "Whatever would we do without our fearless leader!"

It had managed to calm your tears, if only a little. Just what he had hoped for. The smallest laugh that escaped your breath was music to his ears, even between the hics and gasps as you recovered your breath.

"I just want you to know that I'm trying. I'm trying so hard. The feeling comes and goes. And right now is just a time where I need to be around people more. I need more support. But I'll be okay. So if you'll still have me..?"

Ugh, Idiot! Why would you say that last bit. He would never-

"I would never leave you over this darling! What do you take me for? If anything, this is just an excuse for me to constantly drape my arms around you. Whisper into your ear..."

He stands up and struts behind you. Wrapping his arms around you, he whispers, "tell you how much I care. How much I love you." And you smiled. Hells, you let out a laugh.

"See aren't I just amazing? Can make your mood with just a few words. I love you." He smirked, letting out the last bit of tense breath against your neck as he set his head on your shoulder. "I love you," he whispered again.

"I love you too, Astarion"

That day, he didn't let you go once. He stayed right by your side. You went out of your tent for dinner, and found that while you napped, Astarion told Gale to make your favorite. You don't often get nights of calm, but despite the rocky start, today was good.

Things were said, and things were learned, but everything would be okay.

You will be okay.

Author's Note: Please, once again, if you struggle with self harm or suicidal thoughts, reach out to someone. Things do get better, I promise you. There are many help lines and local resources, a quick search on Google will pull them all up.

If there is a way I can better phrase the trigger warning, please let me know. No one had any suggestions on my last one, so I'm going to assume that it was okay.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #tw #tw self h4rm #tw s3lf harm #tw selfhate #x reader fanfiction #x reader

[yuri-is-online]

Returning to the previous Yutu post with his father with no Rizz. Do you think Yutu will try to give his father's unconscious advice to better flirt or Courting Yuu?

It would be a pretty hilarious situation. XD It would be much more comical if Grimm out of pity or because being the agent of chaos that he is decides to join the operation "Teach Dad some Rizz" with Yutu. Only so that said boy, when trying to apply the advice they give him, ends up making tremendous nonsense and shows that he really doesn't have Rizz.

Grim and Yutu giving a facepalm seeing tremendous comic tragedy Rizz's attempt

While Yutu and Grim wonder if love really didn't blind Yuu because they really don't understand how Yuu loves that airhead.

no rizz yes, but context

Yutu in general tries not to mess with the timeline too much. His parents got together on their own the first time... right? Right? Of the dad's on that list the two who I think Yutu would try to give advice to would be Sebek and Silver.

With Sebek, it's because his attitude makes him extremely angry. How dare this guy talk about his parent like that after everything they've been through. I think Sebek! Yutu probably had a really good opinion of Malleus before coming back in time and he still does sort of but all his dad's talking about him is stressing him out. It's less "let's teach dad some rizz" and more "let's teach dad some basic fucking manners" and Grim, who has a very different opinion about what basic manners involve, absolutely gets involved. Sebek is absurdly offended by this because he thinks he is the perfect image of a gentleman, that's why he stumbled over all of his words while trying to compliment Yuu. Because failing to make eye contact and telling someone they "look acceptable today" is peak romance.

Now Silver. Silver, I can see Grim taking it upon himself to teach him rizz and roping Yutu into it because Silver is genuinely interested in taking his advice. Silver knows that he isn't the most educated about courtship techniques, let alone ones that a person from another world would be receptive to, so why not ask the two people who know Yuu best? I feel like Yutu would tell him to "just be himself" and Grim would say something about how gifts are important but the instructions are unclear to Silver so he tells you something about "giving you himself" as a gift... which could be a romantic line but the severe look on his face and the fact it came out of nowhere makes Grim and Yutu want to scream because of how creepy it is.

Except Yuu is clearly flustered and playing with their jacket and giggles about it to both of them later. Maybe they should be more worried about Yuu and not Silver... at least one of them knows what a red flag is.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #future kid au #now listen here missy I know you like silver #no need to be shy you want silver content? you ask #i don't write for him enough anyway gimmie the excuse I will gladly take it ( •̀ ^ •́ )✧

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Zelda held Sonia as she slept.

The light of the full moon cascaded brightly into the nursery, allowing her some time in silence to just be with her daughter. She really needed to sleep – a delegation was coming in the morning, and she had to study everything about their region before their arrival – but she just… she needed this.

How was it, she wondered, that the love of a baby was the only comfort she had? Why did she even have to think of such a thing? How was it that she could do everything in her power, everything right, sacrifice everything, and it seemed to be all for naught?

She’d told herself when she’d first gotten married that her comfort, her joy would be from her people. Her pregnancy had been frightening and beautiful, uncomfortable and a blessing. Lady Impa, for all of her desire to support the queen, had not been the most helpful as she had never been pregnant, leaving Zelda to try and figure out what she could on her own. The kingdom was still so raw, so damaged from the war, and she’d had to handle that while fighting her own body and growing a child.

Now that the child was here, things should be better, right?

The people of Hyrule were much happier now, it seemed, and hope was returning to the land with the birth of a daughter. But the emptiness of the castle had started to become downright unbearable. Zelda rarely saw her husband, but when she did, she’d noticed his mood steadily declining.

How could she have helped all her subjects, but failed someone who was vastly important to her?

They used to be friends. They used to be friends.

And the nobles! People who were supposed to take care of those under their protection and care scrambled for power, hungry and selfish and stupid! Zelda felt a familiar helplessness, and it made her angry and cry, it made her feel like a child princess who had no power and was held hostage in stone walls. How was it that she could get it right but nobody else could? Yet how was it that she could get it so wrong too? Why wasn’t anyone else trying as hard as she was?! Why wasn’t anyone else trying at all?!

Zelda held her daughter closer. She recalled the accusatory words of her father, the insults that she knew so little of the world. Perhaps he had been right.

But Hyrule was healing… at least according to Impa. Goddesses, she wanted to see it. She needed to. She’d given her body, soul, mind, and heart to this land. Despite her best efforts to remain resolute, she was beginning to falter.

She figured she knew why.

“Do you want to see her?” she’d asked her husband. It had seemed a reasonable request – wouldn’t a father want to see his child? Link had not visited Zelda or Sonia since she’d given birth, and it had hurt.

But Link had just watched her. Something had changed in his face, something she hadn’t been able to read—pain? Sympathy? Fear? Anguish?—and he’d coldly said no before leaving.

Lady Impa had comforted her as she cried. But it wasn’t… it…

Link was ill. That was all Zelda knew now. After that night, he’d been out of her sight, and Lady Impa had sent word that he was sick. She hadn’t seen the Sheikah chief since then, either, and that was three days ago.

Zelda had been hated before. Her father had spat words that were so foul she tried not to even think about them. Nobles didn’t trust her when she’d first ascended to power, and she’d been trying to get the people on her side since becoming queen. The public had grown to love her since then, but…

She’d lost her friend. Link had been among the few who had kept her company during her imprisonment in her youth. And now he hated her.

He had to, right? He’d accepted her proposal, had said his vows, had knelt before her, had helped create a child. Surely he could see the results as she could? How could she make him happy too? Why did she have to feel so alone? Why couldn’t Link just understand that this was what was best, why couldn’t he just support her?!

She didn’t know. She didn’t know what to do. She missed Impa. She wanted to talk to her. Now that it had been three days, she realized that woman had been her only confidante since the war’s end.

So she stood here and rocked her baby instead. Because no matter what, Sonia needed her and wanted her and loved her.

How could she be a good mother to her daughter? She barely remembered her own mother. She spent as much time as she could with Sonia, but the servants tended to her throughout most of the day. Zelda had been told to take a few days to recover after the birth, and she’d spent more time with her daughter then, but that had been two weeks ago.

Everything had seemed so much brighter before. But now it all seemed futile.

Was it worth it?

She didn’t know anymore.

#writing #imprisoning war #Good ganondorf #imprisoning war zelda #legend of zelda

[yelenasdiary]

Here's a little Yelena Drabble idea for you if you're interested. 😊 The reader is having a remote interview on their laptop, and they're nervous. Yelena is standing in front of them out of view of the interviewer, encouraging them and trying to make them smile.

Drabble || You Worry Too Much!

Pariring: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Yelena tries her best to make you less nervous and stressed during an important interview.

Fluff

Warnings: None, this is not corrected or proof-read | 0.6K

AC: I hope it's okay I write this as a platonic fic, I haven't written one in a while and I thought this would be a great idea to do so! I hope you enjoy! x

10:15am the time read on your laptop as you sat patiently in the zoom call waiting room, all your notes and possible question answers sat on one side of you while a glass of cold water sat on the other side. In 15 minutes you were able to have an interview for a new job. It was time for a change, time to leave the cafe that you worked tirelessly at just a few blocks away from your apartment.

You were having a quick read over the notes in your notepad when Yelena let herself in with a smile on her lips and a coffee in one hand. "Good morning" she greeted, placing the coffee next to the glass of water beside you.

"Yelena? W-what are you doing here? Did you forget that I have a really important interview today?" you asked with a worried tone.

"Nope, I didn't forget" she replied, making her way to the sofa, "You've been stressed about this interview all week, I'm just here to keep you company" she added as she sat down and grabbed one of last week's trash magazines that sat on your coffee table.

"Could you please just go wait in my bedroom?" you suggest, not wanting her to distract you.

"Don't worry, you stress too much!" she chuckled, "I won't distract you....much" she added with a playful smirk.

You didn't have time to respond to your best friend as the screen on your laptop changed and you were greeted with a middle-aged man in a business suit.

"Good morning Miss Y/L/N, thank you for join me today. I know we spoke over the phone last week but it's nice to put a face to voices" the man smiled, "I'll try not to keep you long" he added. He seemed a little more laid back than all your past interviewers, it helped a little take some of the nerves you were feeling away but not enough to feel completely comfortable and confident.

"Smile" Yelena mouthed, using a small wave to get your attention.

You gave the man the generic fake smile and thanked him for taking the time to interview you for the position. "I like to get the harder questions out of the way, so, why don't you tell me why you think you would be great for this position" he said.

Your eyes glanced over to your notes, "I believe that I am a hard worker, I love working with others and meeting deadlines. I have a high attention to detail and..." you started, pausing for a moment to look back at your notes. Yelena shook her head, "very reliable" she mouthed slowly so you could understand her.

"I'm very reliable and I find great satisfaction in organising and filing. You'll find that not only am I fun to be around, I will get the job done. I am always willing to put myself out there and help others, I love sharing ideas and I am always trying ways to gain more skills in many different areas" you added.

You felt confident in your answer and saw that Yelena was giving you a thumbs up which also reminded you to smile.

As the interview we on, Yelena helped here she could, mouthing words for you to use and always reminding you to keep giving a smile here and there. With every moment that passes you slowly but surely became more confident within yourself, your eyes caught the message that was writing on your coffee cup, "you've got this" with a little smiley face quickly made you thankful for Yelena letting herself in.

"Well, I think that's all on my end. You should hear back from me by the end of the coming week, thank you again for time" the man smiled.

"Thank you, I appreciate this opportunity" you replied, giving the man one last smile before he said goodbye. You closed your laptop and looked up at Yelena, "Thank you, I can't believe you really helped me feel more confident" you spoke.

"Like I said, you worry too much! Now grab your coffee, I'm starving" Yelena replied.

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#yelenasdiary asks #sycamorelibrary754 #fanfiction #yelena belova #marvel #yelena belova x reader

[frizzle-mcshizzle]

what's something about kotlc that the book/readers gloss over?

what's something that should have happened in the books that didn't?

if you could bring back a character BUT you had to kill another character to replace the one you saved, which ones would you choose? (geez hope that one makes sense)

if you could make one of the main cast go evil, which one would it be?

which backround character would be most likely to be the main character of a tragedy?

yay more questions!!

what’s something about Kotlc that the books/readers gloss over?

(oh this is gonna be long) to preface, i understand why most people gloss over this, and the only reason i notice is because of the adoption in my family, but its just something in kotlc thats so deeply important to me, and its the reason i love the series as much as i do.

kotlc is the only series ive ever read that has realistic, non stereotypical, adoption, where the main focus isn’t on adoption. most stories with a premise that focuses on something other than adoption, would pretend like the main characters biological parents/who raised them, where non existent after the first book. the main character would call their new parents mom and dad quickly and there would be no issues. because obviously adoption is all sunshine and rainbows.

in keeper it takes time for Sophie to even feel comfortable calling Havenfeild home, Eda and Grady struggle with adopting a new child who looks so much like their dead daughter. Sophie struggles with missing her family and feeling like she’s replacing them. it takes multiple books for Sophie to call them mom and dad consistently and for them to properly act like a family. thats how i should be, it takes time to feel like someone is a part of your family

adopting someone into your family is like falling in love, it happens slowly, then all at once, before they become apart of your heart for the rest of your life.

and thats what keeper did, she captured the feeling of adoption perfectly, without making it the main plot, it just happens in the background and i will forever love that

what's something that should have happened in the books that didn't?

few things actually

Tam being the one to release Gislea

Teirgan officially adopting the twins

Kesler actually having a more negative reaction to the Squall reveal

it doesn’t focus on Talantless and badmatches enough and i wish that was touched on more

Kesler and Grady being best friends

Dex’s parents being a bit more relevant (totally not baias

if you could bring back a character BUT you had to kill another character to replace the one you saved, which ones would you choose? (geez hope that one makes sense)

it did make sense, but honestly i think more characters should die and every character that has died heavily impacted the plot, and undoing their death would change a lot about the story but i will give a list of characters that i think should/will die

Forkle

Oralie

Prentice

Jensi

if you could make one of the main cast go evil, which one would it be?

people have said Dex in the past because of the neglect from the team and his mom being in the black swan without telling him. but because of his kidnapping i don’t think he would

but…Tam, not even go evil, but what if he had been so badly manipulated by the neverseen that he switched sides, what if he actually was a traitor, how would Linh feel, how would Teirgan feel, just imagine the effects that would have on everyone. how hard it would be to fight their friend, their brother in battle.

which backround character would be most likely to be the main character of a tragedy?

i mean we already have, Oralie, the Twins, Wylie, the Ruewens,

and Brant and Jolie’s story is literally a tragedy (@crymeariveronceagain i am right about that right?)

Kotlc is a series sprinkled with tragedies throughout you just have to look, they’re there, most of them are just hidden in the background. 

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #thanks for the ask! #juline dizznee #sophie foster #tam song #kotlc tam #kotlc linh