Jazzy.. I hear u write for Alex kralies marble hornets … could I get a crumb.. I beg of thee …………… jealous alex esp maybe prohaps …. Much love / nf
𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒏 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆.
Alex Kralie x gn reader ♡
Reblogs and likes appreciated 🗝️
The air in the room was thick with the smell of old coffee beans and the clicking and beeps of the camera equipment. Alex sat over his desk, his eyes lidded and tired, obsessively reviewing footage from the day’s shoot.
You stood in the doorway, holding two mugs of tea you had just brewed prior. You had been helping him and his friends with their production for a couple weeks. But lately, the atmosphere had shifted.
"Alex," you said softly as to not spook him, stepping into the room. "You seriously need to take a break. You’ve been staring at that screen for hours." You said concerned.
Alex didn't turn around. His jaw was tight. his knuckles white as he gripped the arm rest of his chair. "I’m not finished. The pacing is wrong. Everything is wrong."
You walked over, placing the tea down gently, but your eyes caught the screen. It was a clip of you and Jay chatting near the edge of the woods during a break. You were laughing at something Jay had said, your hand resting briefly on his arm, it was in a friendly manner, you had barely had your hand on him for 5 seconds.
Alex’s hand shot out, slamming the pause button so hard the desk shook, and so did you. The image he had paused on was of you smiling at Jay, distorted by grain of the old camera.
"You guys seemed very close," he said, his voice low and possessive. He finally turned his chair, his gaze piercing. "I didn't realize the production required so much... socialization."
You blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility of your normally sweet boyfriend. "We were just talking, Alex. All of us were taking a break." You pause. “What’s the problem?”
"Talking," he repeated annoyingly, the word dripping with sarcasm. He stood up quickly looming over you. The shadows in the room seemingly stretch toward him, or perhaps it was just the way the light hit his face, making him look haunting, and you swallow hard. “You’re here to help me. You’re here for the film. Not to entertain Jay."
"I'm not entertaining anyone," you countered, feeling a flicker of frustration. "I'm helping you because I care about this project. And because I care about you." You say, voice wavering under his stare.
Alex stepped closer, invading your space. His eyes searched yours, looking for a lie, his expression a mix of obsession and possessiveness. "Do you? Because it looks like you are enjoying his company quite a bit. More than you’ve been enjoying mine."
"That’s not fair," you whispered. "You’ve been pushing everyone away. I’m still here."
He reached out, his fingers brushing against your jawline. His touch was cold, his skin clammy, but his grip was firm—almost possessive. "Then stay here. With me. Don't look at him. Don't even talk to him. The world outside this room... it’s not safe. It’s me who’s gonna protect you. Not them."
He gestured to the monitors, where the grainy, terrifying footage of the woods flickered.
"Alex, you're scaring me," you said, trying to pull back, but he held you steady.
"Good," he murmured, his eyes darkening. "Fear keeps you focused. It keeps you mine. I won't have you looking at anyone else especially my dumb friends, when there is so much work to be done. We have a masterpiece to finish, and I need you to be completely, utterly mine while we do it."
He leaned in, his breath hitching, roughly digging his face into your neck as you whimper, gripping his shoulders as you blush. His obsession bleeding into his affection. In that moment, you realized that for Alex, the line between film and reality had long since vanished—and he had decided that you were the most important piece of his collection. Forever his.
A/N - This is my first time writing a oneshot for marble hornets ever, so if this is bad lmk and give me criticism. It isn’t that long but it took me forever so I hope you like it! I love alex a lot but it was kinda hard to write for him giggles.
⋆₊˚Contents: Double V penetration, degradation, dumbification, threesome!! NOT PROOF READ
masterlist
You’re sandwiched between the two men, brian hooking his arms under your knees as he grinds his cock in to you, grinning against your exposed shoulder. Tim is in front of you, strong arms braced on the headboard, dick rubbing against Brian’s inside of you, the tip slamming in to your spongy spot. The bed springs squeak, hanging on for dear life, under the three of you.
Your head is lolled to the side, eyes rolled back as your body jolts with every thrust, mind blank and so fucked out. Brian mumbles mock praise in to your ear as Tim grunts, forehead pressed against yours.
“Atta girl, c’mon sugar you can take it can’t ya?” Brian kisses just under your ear, grip tightening on your legs, folding you further in half.
Tim is rutting in to your cunt, thick cock slipping in and out with a filthy schlick sound, pubic bone slamming in to your over-sensitive clit. “Look at ‘er, so stuffed yet her slutty cunt is still beggin’ for more.” Tim grumbles, huffing a laugh out of his nose as your pussy squeezes both of their cocks.
tag list: @to0-flu1d-4u @imtoomuchofasimp @pretzel-queeny @jutulamafjord @v4mpiresinthenighthung @cherryssodaz @habituallyrabid
I hear a lot about bloody Habit, but much about bloody Evan and I'm not sure why. He's all teary-eyed and pouty, traumatised and probably dissociating. Evan's barely able to keep up with—or return at all—your sloppy and frenzied kisses as you grab at his blood-slick forearms.
He's not even sure if it's his or yours or one of your poor friends. And, god, he hates that he knows what your blood tastes like. Evan's not able to get the texture of it out of his head for weeks after. Maybe he Pavlovs himself into enjoying it too, or maybe he just gave up on understanding and resisting.
Tags: Very mildly NSFW, oral fixation, Mentions of public masturbation, Evan wants that cookie BAD.
⭑ Okay so. This is really short, kinda bad, and ends REALLY abruptly but I wanted to post at least something. Random waves of inspiration are the only thing keeping me going. More Evan is to be had but (probably) NOT before I finish my current Habit WIP.
Evan has a major oral fixation.
He chews on the caps of pens and the erasers of pencils. Plastic straws, ice chips, maybe the lip of a styrofoam cup stolen from Vinny’s house. Even his fingers are subjected to being gnawed on when nothing else is available.
It's really a mindless habit. Something he doesn't even notice he does until you point it out.
And when you do, Evan feels like it gets 10 times worse.
He’s not sure if it’s because the behaviour is now conscious, or if it’s because the fixation shifts entirely onto you.
Not like it wasn’t before, don’t get him wrong. Every time you’re sitting across from him, or really in any spot where he can stare at your lips, he starts absentmindedly chewing on his own. To mirror you, or maybe to try and guess the taste of your chapstick. How the balm would smear against his own lips.
But now, it’s borderline uncontrollable.
To make things worse, Evan thinks you know.
Because, when have you ever been one to chew on pen caps or popsicle sticks? That’s his thing. You do it with your chapstick, too. You apply it way more often now, always in a heavier coat and pop your lips together afterwards.
Evan tries not to think about how many flavours you have, and how he’d let you use him as a taste tester for all of them.
A little while ago—Evan can’t even remember, that’s how distracted he was—You walked out of a vintage candy store with a huge pack of pixy stix. Enough to feed a family of seven, he’s pretty sure Vinny said, if they all don’t drop dead before that.
You smiled, and tore into the packaging with no hesitation.
Evan will never, and he means never ever forget how you ripped open the little sugar stick with your teeth. Some of it spilt out onto your bottom lip only to be immediately licked up, and after your seventh stick of the night, you stuck out your blue-stained tongue to Evan. Afterwards, he had to rub one out in Vinny’s car. His cum is still smeared into the back of the driver’s seat. That’s something he’s decided to take to the grave.
Evan’s also always been a touchy-feely person. Respectfully, of course, regardless of the person. Except when with you, which he thinks about when lying in bed.
A few days ago, everyone went down to the lake. It was a last-minute decision kind of thing as summer was about to come to a close. You were sitting next to him on the least-broken picnic table, pushed into Evan’s side and cheek smushed into his shoulder. He vividly remembers the smell of your lake-water seeped hair, and your pretty smile before you bit him.
Not hard. Just on his shoulder, but it was a first. He yelped and playfully pushed you away, only to keep you from seeing (or feeling) the near immediate hard-on he got.
Getting hard over the memory of biting one of your best friends isn’t exactly awe-inspiring. The next day, Evan had trouble meeting your eyes, but definitely not your lips. Not the way you kept darting your tongue out to re-wet them. Forgot your chapstick, you said. Evan knew that was a lie, considering you had five in your bag at all times.
Maybe Evan’s just a pervert. He sure feels that way now, thinking about biting along your chest or licking up against your neck. Sucking hickeys into your thighs, forcing your fingers down his throat as you grind against him—
“Evan? Hello?” You say, and Evan blinks back.
Jesus, right. You’re just trying to play Left 4 Dead 2, and here he is, trying not to get another boner. “Right—Yeah, what’s up?” Evan runs a hand through his hair, if only to try and snap himself out of whatever he’s got going on.
You snicker, “Your controller’s dead.” You hurl the piece of black plastic at him, landing with a thump on his thigh.
“Right. I’ll go get some batteries.”
It takes Evan a little over six minutes to return. When you ask, because of course you do, he says he had to look around for them. Something about no one puts the batteries in the right place, and how Alex is probably to blame.
Not that he had to go fuck his hand in the bathroom, imagining that it was yours instead.
Yeah. Evan’s really not sure how much more of this he can take.
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