#I will always show up for his barriers and boxes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvt0kki · 9 months

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004 | burning desire

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I don't wanna know, if you're playing me Keep it on the low Cause my heart can't take it anymore And if you creeping, please don't let it show

🎧: creepin' - the Weeknd

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pairings: ot8 x f!reader ( K.Y.S x reader)

w.c : 7.7 k ( sorry for any errors)

cw: mature, ,minors do not interact, nsfw, reader is afab, mentions of assassination, hinted violence, slow burn ( for Wooyoung), polyamory, smut ahead ,oral, size kink, voyeurism, peeping Tom! Wooyoung, light bondage, eavesdropping, Mingi’s nickname for reader is baby, masturbation, Yeosang is very sweet here, some humor ahead, San is a cutie as always, hinted San smut, hinted San, Ming x reader, Wooyoung is even more confused now BUT HE"S GETTING CLOSE TO THE TRUTH

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n : CHAPTER 4! To keep me going and support this series, make sure to leave comments about your thoughts and reactions! You can do this in my askbox too huhu! I hope you guys like this chapter and I know this was a very quick update after chapter 3! The next update may be after New Years!!! Thank you so much for reading my series!!!

This chapter is dedicated to ୨୧ @songmingisthighs ୨୧ (for helping me build ideas for inspo for the next chapters and fangirling with me. It really kept me inspired and excited to write more chapters. I included those gifs for u <3 )

It’s been almost three weeks since you’ve returned, 20 days to be exact, Wooyoung counted. 20 days and he’s still not over his crush on you. Was it even a crush anymore at this point?

“Hey focus.” Yeosang’s voice snapped him out of his many spirals over you.

The former Prince’s gloved fist came close to his face and Wooyoung quickly raised both his arms to block the jab.

“I’m focused.”

“No, you’re not.” Yeosang jabbed him on his side that his friend failed to evade which just led to one blow to another and before he knew it Wooyoung was on the floor again for the third time since their sparring session started.

“You’re probably thinking too much.” Your voice echoed in the gym as you approached them on the black padded boxing ring. “That’s why your movements are slow.”

You gave the two handsome men a quick look over. Their skin glistened with perspiration and they both had their boxing gloves on. Wooyoung sported a loose tank top which showed off his toned arms while Yeosang wore a compression shirt that only accentuated his statuesque physique. His muscles were getting bigger…and among the members Yeosang and San were the ones who built and grew muscle quickly due to genetics, and god, you loved those genetics.

“Good morning, darling.” Yeosang hummed with that princely smile of his and you couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed in your cheeks at his term of endearment for you.

“Morning, Yeosang. Wooyoung.” You nodded in the other man’s direction whose chest was rising and falling fast as he caught his breath.

“Why don’t you give him a few pointers?” Yeosang wiped the sweat on his brow with his arm before heading towards where you were at the edge of the sparring ring.

You weren’t busy.

Wooyoung watched as you ducked beneath the foamed barriers, your eyes briefly meeting his as you passed Yeosang who leaned over to whisper something. You stared at Wooyoung as Yeosang’s deep smooth voice vibrated in your ears.

“Go easy on him, dear.”

You smirked a little at that before slipping off your trainers and sauntering towards Wooyoung with a false aura of ease to make sure his defenses were low.

“No gloves?” Wooyoung raised a brow as he stood up, not backing down on the challenge. He knew he should be more alert with you, especially with San said about your hand-to-hand combat mastery.

“Don’t need them.” You shrugged, stretching and swinging your arms and body to get your body a little warm.

Yeosang sat on the exercise bench in the gym that looked over the ring, curious to how this interaction would turn out.

“Don’t go easy on me.” You told him with a smile that he couldn’t read, it was alluring and sweet despite the fact you two were going to be throwing hands at each other.

“And don’t go easy on me.” He huffed, raising his gloved hands to shield his face and getting into stance whilst trying to ignore how pretty you looked in a simple tee and gym shorts with these cute strings on each side that scrunched them up in a pretty and sexy way. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

You only nodded and pulled the hem of your slim-fit tee down.

“Oh, you guys are sparring.” The sweet gentle voice of the vice-captain reached everyone’s ears and you glanced at the gym entrance to see the ethereally handsome man enter in a black tank top and matching sweats. “Morning, Y/N.” He smiled your way.

Wooyoung took this as a chance to attack but he really didn’t want to hit you in any way. His intention was to just jab lightly at your shoulder while you’re distracted.

With quick precision, as he learned from San, he swung your way, sure that he was gonna get a lick in. If you were supposed to be a master combatant, shouldn’t you know not to take your eyes off your opponent? He thought to himself as he focused.

In less than a second, you broke away from Seonghwa’s gaze and stopped Wooyoung’s advance by grabbing the gloved hand that came your way and twisted it to the side, redirecting it. Wooyoung couldn’t process what happened next as you held onto the hand you caught and your legs hooked around his neck, next thing he knew his world spun as he was propelled onto his back.

The loud smack of his back against the ring floor bounced off the walls so satisfyingly as he let out a grunt at the sudden impact. He couldn’t even move. Your legs had him in a headlock, his chin was nuzzled into the back of your slightly bent knee and your ankles were crossed over each other while your upper body and hands trapped his right arm in an arm lock.

You kept him there for a bit, letting him struggle against your hold before releasing him and all the oxygen he needed rushed into his lungs.

Wooyoung was in shock. It had happened so fast. Then it sunk in that your legs had locked his head in, your soft skin, and your pillowy thighs. Had he passed out in your chokehold, it would’ve been a good way to go.

“That’s our girl.” Seonghwa smiled proudly, he and Yeosang applauding your quick response to Wooyoung’s attempt at an attack.

You were up on your feet as if nothing just happened, and you glanced down at Wooyoung, rather enjoying the breathless look on his handsome face. He questioned how he was kind of turned on at how easily you countered him and how gorgeous you looked staring down at him. God, what was wrong with him?

You held your hand out.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed onto it letting you help him up.

“You need to train with Sannie more.” You chuckled once he was balanced on his two feet. “There were at least three ways you could’ve countered my attack.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Woo,” Seonghwa reassured him, heading towards the weights rack. “It took a while for Yeosang and I to be able to learn one of those counterattacks.”

You gave Wooyoung a reassuring caress on his arm, the gentle touch contrasting with how easily you threw him to the ground before you stepped out of the ring.

Wooyoung needed to improve a lot before he could spar with you.

“What will you be doing today?” Yeosang asked as he hung his towel over the chair, heading back to the ring.

“Will lift some weights. It’s a lower body day.”

“If you need help stretching out later, I’ll be glad to help.”

Wooyoung couldn’t really hear the conversation from where he was but Seonghwa could, and the Vice Captain scoffed at Yeosang’s response. To anyone else, it sounded like a normal gym conversation, and also, whatever the former Prince said always sounded innocent. But you and most of the members knew better.

“Unless she wants to do cardio with me,” Seonghwa suggested, setting up the weights on the barbell.

“Both of you calm down and focus on your workouts.” You shook your head, smiling to yourself at their antics.

“Focus? With you in those shorts?” Yeosang chuckled. “If San was here, he’d offer to spot you. Anyways, when you’re done, you know where to find me.” He headed back to Wooyoung who had begun frowning while he watched the three of you, not liking that he was left out of the conversation.

“Were you guys dissing me?” He asked when Yeosang stood in front of him again.

“Woo, just because you’re not included in the conversation it doesn’t mean that it's about you.”

Wooyoung gasped dramatically. “You mean to say you’re all not obsessed with me?” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Keep your guard up, Woo. We need to train you to be good enough to counter some of Y/N’s attacks.”

“Only some?”

“The only two people in this crew who can go head to head with Y/N and actually make her break a sweat is San and Hongjoong.” Yeosang readjusted his gloves before raising his fists to shield his face. “Now that you’ve experienced her skill firsthand, focus.”

...

Wooyoung to put it bluntly was stressed. Frustrated too. He didn’t think he was that bad at hand-to-hand combat. He was humbled greatly by you and he was annoyed because today, it’s like he hasn’t improved at all. He kept getting caught off guard by Yeosang, surprised that he was this good at unarmed combat and even more deadly with his archery skills.

He needed San to give him more pointers and make their sessions more frequent if he was going to improve before they arrived at their next destination.

He let out a deep heavy sigh as he trudged back to the crew's deck to get his towel and fresh set of clothes in his room before he headed to the showers. Maybe he’ll give himself an ice bath. After his and Yeosang’s session, he stayed back to spend time venting out his anger on the punching bag, and now his muscles kind of ached.

Towel draped over one shoulder and his clothes tucked under his arm, he headed towards the showers.

You wrapped your towel tight around your body, swearing to yourself for forgetting your clothes back in your room and as carefully as you could walked barefoot on the shower room tiles.

“Ah!” You squeaked, feeling the ball of your foot slide against the tile and lose balance. Some kind of assassin you were. Even your clumsiness was a mystery to you.

But you didn’t feel the hard cold and wet floor of the showers, you felt nothing but warmth in a gentle hold.

Wooyoung stared at your face. Your eyes were tightly shut as you awaited the impact of your fall if he hadn’t caught you. He held you close and secure to him, his arms wrapped around your body clad only in a soft fluffy towel. He didn’t know if he was lucky or unlucky to be in this situation. You smelled so nice too. The sweet peach and coconut scent of your body wash filled his senses, and your skin was glistening from still being slightly damp from your shower. Maybe he was lucky.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, his eyes shifting from your face and the top edge of your towel wrapped around your chest.

“Woo?” You had said his name so softly with surprise that it made his heart skip a beat and butterflies flutter in his stomach. Your eyes blinked open to see the man who saved you from hurting yourself.

“Hi.” His voice was so gentle it took you aback.

“H-hi.” You stuttered out.

You both stared into each other's eyes for a while before you cleared your throat, feeling the cold air kiss your skin and make you shiver, making you all too aware of how only a towel separated the two of you.

“It’s cold. I forgot my clothes in my room.” You looked away.

It sunk in with Wooyoung that if the towel peeled off of you, he’d see everything. God, he’d see your pretty body before him and just knew it’d be better than he has ever imagined during his late nights plagued with your visage and the sounds you made when Mingi fucked you, and that first night he saw you on your knees between the gunner's thighs, head bobbing up and down his cock.

“Oh, sorry.” He gently helped you to your feet, making sure you were well-balanced before reluctantly letting you go. He had to control himself. You were Mingi’s. “Be careful, okay? Don’t want you to hurt that pretty self of yours.”

That made you smile. “Thanks, Woo.” You stood on your tippy toes and pressed your lips quickly on his cheek to show him how thankful you were before taking small steps to go to your room.

Wooyoung watched you leave. The touch of your lips on his cheek lingered. Were you that friendly with all of them? He has noticed some very odd…well not odd, unorthodox? Interactions between you and the other crew members. All eight of you seemed so closed knit and when those interactions happened, Mingi didn’t blink an eye or care.

Like how he had walked in on you once in Hongjoong’s office sat on the Captain’s lap by his desk while you two went over some maps and information or how you and Seonghwa would be in the lounge on some afternoons with your legs splayed across his lap while you both read your books in silence.

Does Mingi share you? He shook his head at the thought finding it absurd as the hot water sprayed down on him as he showered.

That was ridiculous. The two of you were attached to the hip almost all the time and some mornings you left his room and the others he left yours. It wasn’t making sense.

He just concluded that all of you have gotten really close and comfy over the time you all had been together as a crew. Being stuck on a ship most of the time and only ever having each other, it made sense that you all got close. Really close in a way it confused him. It still felt like there was something hidden from him even though it was staring him right in the face.

The sound of the shared shower room door sliding open and closing shook him from his thoughts, and from the shower stall he was in, he glanced at who entered, his eyes quickly catching the bright pink head that sauntered in.

“Oh, hey, Woo.” Mingi greeted, taking the shower stall next to him, the stainless steel dividers separating the two.

Wooyoung didn’t care much back then whenever someone entered the shower room but ever since you returned and he found out you have your toiletries in one of the three stalls, he has been careful. First of all, he didn’t want to invade your privacy and lastly, he didn’t want to shower in the stall next to you and get a raging hard-on at the thought of just a partition between the two of you.

Mingi’s bare shoulders and chest peaked over the top of the partition due to his height and his head was only mere inches away from the shower head. If you had been in the stall next to Wooyoung, he was sure only the top of your head could be seen.

“Hey, man.” Wooyoung greeted your lover back, continuing to shampoo his hair.

“Heard Y/N kicked your ass in less than a second.” He teased, turning the knob of the shower with a squeak.

“Ugh, who told you?” Wooyoung sulked a little.

“Seonghwa.” He snickered. “Wish I was there to see it. It’s sexy when she does that.”

“It’s like everything she does turns you on.” Wooyoung bit back, annoyed with the unprovoked teasing he was receiving.

“Can you blame me?”

Wooyoung couldn’t.

Glancing over at Mingi, he was met with a victorious smirk on the man’s face. He was smug that Wooyoung had no snappy remark at what he had said.

He glared at him before he rolled his eyes and began rinsing his hair a little roughly.

“Ugh, could you guys, at least keep it down? You guys fuck like bunnies, I swear to god. Don’t you know some people, also known as me, need to sleep?”

Mingi raised his brow as he grinned.

“So you could hear us, huh?”

Fuck.

The gunner faced his back to the spray of water and continued to tease his friend. “Do you get hard at the sound of us fucking, Woo? I mean if you do, I can't blame you. She moans so pretty doesn’t she?”

Internally, Wooyoung answered yes to all those questions but he just continued to rinse himself and think of a way to shut the tall man up.

“She tastes really good too.” He was bragging now and happily doing so. You were his baby. His one and only, of course, he wanted to show you off. Plus, knowing that Wooyoung doesn’t know the whole truth about you and the crew, he wanted to kind of enjoy the idea that you were entirely his (not that he didn’t like sharing you with the rest). “You’ve seen how pretty her pussy is, right? It was kinda entertaining, really, how you were so entranced by my baby before you knew that she was mine.”

Wooyoung was too frustrated and now extremely annoyed to reply back. He didn’t even know what to reply. His silence and lack of response probably exposed the truth of his desire for you.

“Tell me, Woo,” Mingi leaned his arms on the top of the partition and Wooyoung made the mistake of meeting the man’s eyes that were possessive yet teasing. “Do you want to fuck my girl?”

Wooyoung clenched his jaw.

The only thing that could be heard in the shower room right now was the collision of the rain of water against the bathroom tiles as they stared each other down.

Yes. He wanted to. He really fucking wanted to.

What the fuck does Mingi even want him to say?

“Don’t you think it’s a bit disrespectful to be offering your girlfriend up like that? Like she’s yours to give and take?” Wooyoung didn’t mean to attack Mingi with such words and it was clear what he said took him aback.

Was he going to get punched right now?

“What if it was an invitation?”

Wooyoung’s head snapped in Mingi’s direction, giving the man the reaction he wanted.

“W-what?”

Mingi let the silence between them sit for a while, knowing that the cogs in Wooyoung’s head were malfunctioning right now before laughing heartily.

“I’m just kidding. Wow. Didn’t think you’d take me so seriously. I know you have a crush on her, that’s okay, man. Everyone else does.”

Wooyoung remained silent, opting to just nod and continue washing up while Mingi’s last three words echoed over and over in his head.

Everyone else does.

It’s like what Yeosang said, “And if you’re a little attracted to her it’s fine. We all are.”

They showered in silence after, Wooyoung finished first, dried himself, and changed into a fresh set of clothes before heading out into the hall, the stupid hall where he could hear you across his room and run into you in the mornings or late nights when you’d get a midnight snack.

Sometimes he would think of that time you fed him that strawberry and how honey-like your voice was when you praised him. Then his imagination would go wild as he thought about what if he had kissed you then and there, and what if he touched you and felt every curve of your beautiful body as your tongues fought for dominance with one another.

He craved the same intimacy you shared with the other members. The same one where a single glance could tell them how you felt, where knowing smiles were exchanged across rooms or the dining table like you were passing secret notes to one another under the table, and the same intimacy you had with Mingi.

Wooyoung sighed as his crush on you only worsened by the day and he hoped that playing the video game Jongho and San asked him to join this afternoon could help him remain distracted from thoughts of you, specifically of how fragile you were in his arms earlier in the showers.

Approaching the lounge, he heard soft giggles and low voices, what could be assumed to be maybe a light-hearted conversation between two people. He recognized your voice anywhere and without announcing his presence, wanting to act aloof, he walked into the lounge.

The back of the couch faced him and he couldn’t see you and the person you were talking to as he approached.

“What are you doing?” you giggled, feeling gentle hands caress your sides, the other sliding under your top to feel the skin of your stomach with the intention to travel lower.

Wooyoung paused.

Your voice was gentle and void of any seriousness that your line of work in the past had trained you to become. Yeosang had told him yesterday when they were both hanging out on the upper deck that you could only ever feel safe around them. With them, your defenses were down and you could just be…well….you.

It was heartwarming and bittersweet. It's no wonder Mingi was so protective of you and San too...wait-

Was Mingi already with you? Wasn’t he still in the showers?

Wooyoung’s questions were answered by a broad back finally peeking over the back frame of the couch as the two of you playfully wrestled. He blinked for a bit wondering if his eyes were betraying him because he was pretty sure Mingi’s short hair was pink.

“You look so cute” The man sighed with adoration, the only part of you that could be seen as you lay on the couch was your gentle hand on the back of his neck.

“Sannie…”

Wooyoung could imagine the way you smiled when San’s name fell from your lips but the former assassin above you sensed another presence in the room. Cat-like eyes looked his way and for some reason, Wooyoung felt like he walked into something he shouldn’t have.

“Sannie?” You sat up wondering why he had gone silent.

You followed his gaze and saw Wooyoung by the entryway of the lounge.

The man stared at you both for a while, noticing how San’s hair stuck out in different directions and how his lips were slightly pinker than usual. Your lips were red and swollen like the times he’d see you after you and Mingi…

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” He tried to play his surprise off as if it was a joke but inside he was screaming 'What the fuck? What the fuck?', like a broken record.

“Oh, no.” San immediately responded, sitting on the couch properly from the position he had been in, which underneath the blanket was between your legs with his pelvis pressed to your core. “Not at all.”

“Will Y/N join us?” Wooyoung walked on over to the L-shaped couch, taking note that the two of you were under the same fluffy blanket.

“I won’t be playing. Just watching for a bit.” You smiled, letting your hand that had been playing with San’s hair drop while the other slipped from under his sweats. "I have to help Hongjoong and Seonghwa with some data later.”

San kept his practiced smile to not alert Wooyoung of what you two were doing under the blanket til he showed up. He was a bit annoyed to have been interrupted. Your dainty fingers had been wrapped around his hardening cock and were stroking him while his own fingers had been massaging your sensitive clit through your cotton panties. He even felt how your growing arousal had begun to seep through the fabric.

For now, San just readjusted your positions while still remaining under the cover of the large blanket, hiding his hard cock and practicing self-control.

Wooyoung half expected San to detach himself from you when Jongho arrived who didn’t blink an eye at yours and San’s public displays of affection, which looked more than platonic. Instead, San had you snuggled in his arms with his chin resting atop of your head as he fiddled with the buttons on the controller, trying to beat him and Jongho at a retro street racing game.

This was one of those instances that Wooyoung wondered if there was something more going on between you and San that Mingi wasn’t aware of. But then again, Mingi never batted an eye when Jongho called you princess, when Seonghwa moved the hair from your face with loving eyes, or when Yunho embraced you from behind when you were going over things with Hongjoong and Hwa on the command deck.

But apart from all these inconsistencies, well, odd behavior, Wooyoung couldn’t remove from his head how he had come in contact with you twice today. First at the gym and then at the showers with your skin glistening, the scent of peach coconut body wash, and the kiss you left on his cheek as a thanks for saving you from your fall.

God, he sounded like a teenager. He never really had a serious relationship back on Jupiter, he just messed around…a lot. Bless the maids that lost their jobs in the manor because he got caught fucking them…and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

But he’s never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted you.

That night, like almost every other night, when he wasn’t missing home or the security of his life before, he was consumed by thoughts of you. Now that he had a new image of you stuck in his head (you in that fluffy towel and nothing else), he had new… jacking-off material.

Maybe to top it off tonight, he’d leave his door just a peep so he could hear you and Mingi again. You two didn’t fuck at all this week, so he’s pretty sure something might happen tonight especially since Mingi cornered him in the shower and fucking showed off.

Should he take a little peek?

With the way the gunner teased him, it’s like he wanted him to watch the two of you.

As if he was psychic, Wooyoung heard soft whimpering coming from your room. Your sweet alluring sounds.

Quietly, bare feet on the cold floor he made his way to his door. The hallway was dark now since the main lights automatically switched off at 1:30 am to conserve energy on the ship, the only thing that illuminated the hall were these color-changing dim strips of light near along the topmost part of the walls.

Tip-toeing across, he wanted to scoff at how your door was open ajar. ‘Fuck you, man.’ He swore at Mingi in his head. He really wanted to make him suffer. If Mingi wanted him to watch so badly, then don’t mind if he does. Knowing the cocky smug bastard, he probably gets off on the idea of someone watching him fuck you but can’t touch you.

Gluing himself as close as possible to the wall next to your door, he decided to take a peek.

Immediately his cock throbbed at the new never before seen sight.

Ivory silk that shimmered in the dim light of your bedroom was tied to your headboard and they decorated your wrists that were above your head. He had wondered why your sounds were quieter this time around and he knew why now. Smooth silk was between your lips.

He felt his mouth water.

The little night slip covering yet showing the curves of your body was of the same silk and the thin straps had already slipped from your shoulders, the neckline dangerously low and close to letting your tits spill out. He could see the hardened peaks beneath the fabric and how the soft flesh jiggled when you’d wriggle away from the head buried between your thighs.

Your thighs were over thick broad shoulders and seeing the way you were writhing from the pleasure of the lucky tongue lapping up your essence that he imagined to be nectar from the gods, he knew you were close to coming undone. Which usually meant, Mingi was going to fuck you next. Wooyoung’s gotta give it to the gunner for being such a generous lover and indulging in foreplay.

“Mhmf!” Your pitch got higher, your wrists now tugging at the restraints. Your soft pillowy thighs were trembling and trying to close from the unrelenting attack on your heat. Wooyoung could hear the sloppy wet slurping of the man eating you out and his cock was getting harder and harder at the new visual. So you liked getting tied up? That’s hot.

He palmed himself through his cotton pajama pants, biting his lip hard to hold back any sounds he could make and glancing at the hall making sure no one was up before returning his gaze to your lingerie-clad body.

Your hips tried to wriggle away from your lover’s tongue but his hands were hooked around your thighs to keep you from getting away. You watched as his pretty face indulged in your cunt, happily and greedily lapping and dipping his tongue in your heat, and nipping and sucking on your clit. The soft gag around your mouth prevented you from moaning out his name and you could only whine and whimper your pleas and sounds of pleasure.

The soft silk grazed over your sensitive nipples the more you rustled and tugged on the restraints, your core growing unbearably tight and your breath quickening as he slurped and sucked at your sensitive bud. Then you saw white. Your back arched off the bed as his assault on your orgasming pussy didn’t stop. He liked to push you over the edge, not as cruel as Hongjoong does but just enough to make you hazy.

Not wanting to overdo it, your lover detached his lips from your cunt, and consumed with such desire, he hovered over you, covering you with his beefy muscular upper body, and lowered the silk gag to crash his lips onto yours. You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue, and felt your walls tightening around nothing as he did. With one hand, he untied the silk ribbon from the headboard, letting it remain tied around your wrists yet freeing you from the restraint, finally letting you touch him.

“You’re so beautiful like this, my darling.” He spoke softly in between kisses. “I love dressing you in the prettiest things and fucking you in them.”

'Oh, god, his voice', you thought. That honey-like deep voice that made you believe sweet nothings belonged on his lips.

“This fabric is from the finest of silks in Jupiter.” He cupped your breast through the smooth thin lingerie. “When we made our stop in my home, I had to get something for my darling.” You bit your lip when he ghosted his thumb over your perked nipple. “This is silk made for a queen.”

He then sucked at your lower lip before resting his forehead against yours to savor this moment between the two of you.

“You didn’t have to...” You blushed beneath his intense gaze, his eyes so beautiful and entrancing. “I don’t need things like these—ah!”

You were cut off when his hot and hard length slotted between your lips, the man before you clicking his tongue at your words. “My beautiful love deserves beautiful things.” You let out a soft whine when you felt him rub his bulbous hot tip between your folds, covering himself in your slick. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. Nor desired anyone as I desire you."

“P-please,” you whimpered, squeezing his shoulders as the ache for friction was getting more intense. “I love you...please…I need you.”

You’d never ever get tired of any of your lovers telling you how much they loved you. You didn’t even know what you did to deserve not only one but seven men who loved you. After all the things you’ve done in your line work…you were somehow blessed with seven people you’d protect and die for. With them, you weren’t the girl you were in the academy. They made you feel as if your past was nothing but a nightmare.

“My sweet girl.” He cooed, his forehead pressed against yours as he tapped the head of cock on your clit. Your arms wrapped around his back, feeling the need to hold onto him because if you didn’t you felt like you wouldn’t be able to take the painful need throbbing inside you. “So tough and strong.” He kissed your neck, holding your hips still so he could rock his length back and forth your slit, the teasing close to making you cry. “But deep down, you want to be taken care of.”

“Please…” you begged, voice cracking with desire.

The sound made Wooyoung squeeze his cock tighter, slowly pumping himself to the sight of you through the mirror in your room where he could see the side view of your body. One of your breasts was no longer covered by the pretty silk lingerie and the ribbons tied on your wrist flowed so prettily, something about it made the whole view before him so sinful and dare he say, beautiful?

He watched as the hips between your legs connected with yours.

You moaned so obscenely when his hot tip pushed through your entrance and how his thick hot girth, stretched you out.

“Oh, Yeo.”

Wooyoung stopped the steady and slow rhythm of his hand. Did he hear that right? There was no fucking way.

“Fuck, you’re so thick.” You threw your head back, feeling him bottom out inside of you, his pretty moans music to your ears as he felt your velvety walls embrace him.

“Yeah? Look at how gorgeously split you are by my cock.”

You listened to him and glanced down, seeing the defined v-line of his hips and chiseled abdomen first before letting your gaze fall to where you two were connected. Your lower lips were parted and wrapped around him. He wasn’t as long as Mingi and Yunho but, god, he was thick and fitted inside of you like a glove.

“Come here, darling.” He wrapped his arms around you, changing your positions so he was lying down while you were sat atop of him, fully sunk onto his cock.

Wooyoung had been too distracted by you that he didn’t notice that the naked man that you were straddling and who was eating you out moments before was not the pink-haired gunner asshole who teased him earlier…it was his best friend.

“Be a good girl and ride me.” Yeosang caressed your sides before hooking a finger on the neckline of the silk slip and tugging it lower to reveal your breasts.

You slipped your arms from the straps, the lingerie he bought you now bunched at your hips while you placed your hands behind you and on his thighs as you slowly rolled your hips.

“Oh darling,” Yeosang moaned, watching you slowly raise your hips and lower them giving him a show of how his cock disappeared in and out of your tight heat, wetting him with your slick.

You bit your lip slowly adjusting to the width of him and once you felt your walls accommodate him more, you began to bounce your hips. You were lost in the way his cock rubbed your insides with each rock and bounce. His hands caressed your sides and squeezed your breasts, your moans and his messily harmonizing together along with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

Wooyoung’s cock still throbbed and he knew it was wrong that he was even more turned on at the fact that you were fucking Yeosang. Did Mingi mean what he said when he jested earlier? About fucking you? Did he actually share you?

Maybe if he wasn’t so fucking horny he would’ve stopped touching himself at the sight of you fucking someone who wasn’t Mingi. Were you seeing Yeosang behind Mingi’s back?

He didn’t really care about those things right now, not when your tits bounced so fucking prettily as you rode Yeosang. Why did you look so fucking good? With his best friend lying down, he had a full view of your body, and the fact that the lingerie was still somewhat on you, made him continue to pump his length, matching his rhythm to yours.

Yeosang wasn’t much of a dirty talker when you two spent nights together but his pretty voice and the special timbre he had even his panting and moaning made up for it. He had such a tone to him that made you shiver and ache for him all the same. He had the prettiest moans among your lovers.

“Fu—oh. Fuck,” Yeosang managed to say when he caught a glimpse of a sheer ring of white coating the base of his cock, Wooyoung had to squint but when he saw it his hand sped up. He couldn’t believe he was jacking off to you fucking yourself on his best friend’s cock.

“Yeo…” you whimpered, throwing your head back at how good he felt inside of you and Wooyoung almost moaned out loud with how delectable you looked head thrown back in pleasure and rolling your hips.

He needed to fuck you. God, he didn’t know how long he could take anymore. Would Yeosang stop him if he were to walk in right now? No, he couldn’t do that but the sinful smack of your skin against Yeosang’s as you bounced on his cock was making any form of self control almost impossible to find.

“Look at you,” Yeosang hummed, swiping his thumb on the white cream of your arousal before rolling your clit beneath his fingertip. “Taking me so prettily.”

You could only moan in response, the stimulation on your clit as his cock deliciously scraped your insides making your head spin. Your hips and thighs worked tirelessly to continue the rolling waves of mind-numbing pleasure, and your lover beneath you looked up at you with such desire and adoration in his eyes, that it made you a little shy. Only they could make you feel this way.

You gasped when Yeosang gripped your hips tighter and began to fuck into you at a fast pace, the wet obscene smacking becoming louder as he thrust strong and deep. You almost fell forward at the sudden change of pace and you cried out at how indescribably good it felt.

“Fuck, Yeo. You feel so good.” He sat up, cradling your back and wrapping your legs around his waist as he continued to fuck you. The new position allowed his cock to dive deeper, hitting your g-spot and making you melt against him.

You held onto him for dear life, your head resting on his shoulder.

Wooyoung whimpered softly in disappointment that the sight of your tits and pussy were covered now by Yeosang’s bulging muscular back which had the silk ribbons around your wrists flowing down against them as you clawed at his skin.

Good thing he was close. He was so fucking close.

He glanced at the mirror once more, biting his lip harder when he saw the way Yeosang’s hips were driving into your pussy. Why couldn’t that be him?

He squeezed his cock harder and increased his pace, he was going to cum. Your breasts were bouncing with each thrust and he could see how your nipples brushed Yeosang’s chest. He imagined what that would feel like and how tight your pussy would feel around his cock, how it would squeeze him, how it would feel, hot wet, and inviting—

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered to your face wanting to cum at the sight of your blissed-out expression but his heart stopped when his eyes met your heavy-lidded ones with pupils blown in lust.

Your lips were loosely pressed against Yeosang’s shoulder as he pounded into you when you suddenly met a pair of eyes by the door, peering in. If it had been any of your lovers, they would have shamelessly walked in and watched. So...who?

Vision focusing and adjusting to the dark, you made out the strong jawline and the unmistakable shape of those eyes to be none other than Jung Wooyoung. Yeosang’s best friend.

Wooyoung saw how your brows furrowed at his presence and how your eyes glanced down, finding his hand that was wrapped around his cock, tip red and angry, leaking with precum.

“Fuck.” Yeosang swore when felt your walls squeeze him, not knowing it was because you had noticed Wooyoung by the door.

You never knew you’d be turned on by the idea of being watched til it was teased out of you by your lovers. It had started when San had caught you and Mingi when your relationship with him had reached the three-month milestone. Mingi being a switch had enjoyed teasing both you and San that night…seeing Wooyoung by the door, reminded you a little bit of how cute Sannie was all hard and frozen by the door that very night.

Smirking a little, a wicked idea popped into your head.

Running your hands through Yeosang’s hair, you kissed and moaned against his neck just a tad bit louder, all that while keeping your gaze locked with Wooyoung’s.

“You close, my love?” You purred into Yeosang’s ear, soft yet audible enough for the man by the door to hear.

Wooyoung clenched his teeth harder, fighting back his moans as his eyes were pleading for release while imagining his cock was in you instead of his hand. You weren’t making this easier for him.

Yeosang groaned at the way your term of endearment for him rolled off your tongue so seductively. “Mhm.” He hummed in response, panting as he chased both yours and his releases.

“You’re making me feel so good.” You held him tighter, his hands guiding your hips to match his movements. Your lustful drunk-like stare remained on Wooyoung and he couldn’t tear his own eyes from you. “I want you to fill me up.”

A moan almost escaped Wooyoung at that. Why were you looking at him when you said that? It was painful enough to fist his cock in secret while watching someone else fuck you but now this? This was some new kind of torture.

“Y-Yeo,” your eyes shut in bliss while your mouth parted in a breathless and soundless moan, while your lover spurred on by your words, moved with passion to bring you both to ecstasy.

Yeosang’s pants and whines always were like a melody you can never get out of your head. You wondered, despite your state of a daze, if he knew how weak you were for his comfort and his warmth. His gentleness and affection were different. They all loved you in their own ways, different but it was love all the same.

His moans became higher in pitch as he lost himself and his hold on your hips tightened. You couldn’t hold back all the sounds that left you as he brought you to climax, the rhythm of his hips getting faster, the resounding smacks bouncing off the walls. Your eyes locked with Wooyoung’s once more before they shut as you were pushed over the edge. Your body arched into Yeosang's as you gasped, unable to stop the trembling of your hips as your head went blank with pleasure.

You felt your release drip down your pulsing heat and made a mess on his cock that hasn’t ceased its assault on your spamming cunt. “That’s my darling. My sweet darling.” He cooed over and over til his own hips stilled. He slammed into you hard one last time as a strangled moan left him.

Wooyoung bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he felt the pressure at the base of his spine explode and release into his hand. The sight of his milky white release made your mouth water and you couldn’t help the thought that popped in your head. How it was such a waste for his cum to not be on you or in you. Maybe it was just your orgasm brain playing tricks on you and not making you think straight but you held onto your lover tighter, feeling his release warm your insides.

Yeosang laid you down gently on the bed, not detaching himself from you as he peppered kisses all over your chest as if worshipping you and thanking you.

You moved your head a little from the pillow to look at the door, only to find that the little peeping Tom had disappeared. Before you could feel the growing hint of disappointment that the new crew member was gone, you were pulled away from your thoughts by Yeosang. You gasped softly when he took your left breast in his warm mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue on your sensitive peak as he kept his pelvis pressed to yours to keep his release inside of you.

Wooyoung retreated to his room and locked the door, the post-nut clarity creeping up to him fast.

What had he just seen?

As if doing what he did to you and Mingi wasn’t bad already, this was…he didn’t even know what to think.

The guilt ate him up but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a dark cloud blooming in his chest. He didn’t know if he was reading too much into it but did you enjoy having him watch? He swore when your eyes locked with his as Yeosang fucked you and he was jerking off, there was a brief glimpse of a smirk.

As he cleaned up the mess of his cum on his hand and changed out of his shirt, he poked his head out his door so he could check he didn’t have traces of him on the floor or anywhere near your door.

What the fuck has he done? Why were you and Yeosang together?

He glanced at your still slightly open door wondering if you and his best friend were still going at it. If he had gotten caught by both of you, would he have been invited to join? He lightly knocked the back of his head with his fist for having thought about that. He was being delusional.

With tissues, he wiped away drops of his cum that had fallen to the floor quietly while telling himself he won’t try to listen to any more sounds that should be found because of your partially open door.

Before he could hear anything, he disappeared into his room and made sure his door was closed and locked.

He went over his conclusions about your relationship with the crew.

You and Mingi had been together for two years while you and San had basically grown up together and shared a friendship that looked far from platonic as he always looked like a love-sick puppy when you were around. Now Yeosang? Where the fuck did Yeosang fit in the equation?

It didn’t make sense to him and the last thought that crossed his mind was far too absurd…but then again, not entirely impossible.

It was just too crazy to be real. Which brought him back to his and Mingi’s conversation in the showers.

“What if it was an invitation?” Mingi’s words echoed in his head.

Even though he played it off as a joke, Wooyoung couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t entirely just a joke.

- feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly famgor; with you <3

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

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#tokki;sway with me #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fic #ateez smut #hongjoong x reader #jongho x reader #mingi x reader #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #san x reader #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez ot8 x reader

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potionpeddlerpatchy · 2 years

Text

word count: 7.2K

paring: Bokuto x fReader

warning(s): panty stealing, male masturbation - in several locations (shower, bedroom, laundry room), scent kink (wasn't my intention but it's in there), hint of obsessive behaviour oral. Bokuto is a perv in this, so be warned.

authors note: well, it has finally arrived - this darn fic I have been spending way too long on; to put it into perspective I started this in July. But anyway, what started as self-indulgent fluff morphed into something completely different and I am pretty happy with it! Hope you all enjoy this new side to our favourite volleyball playing himbo~ 🔮

Life always had a way of making itself just a little difficult, no matter what you did; even if the answer led to the best possible solution and outcome for you; you had to make sacrifices so you could succeed in a world that was always trying to see you fail. This was one such occasion.

You just moved to a new neighborhood, one that was far away from family and friends for your career. In order to move ahead, to gain the comfortable life you always wanted for yourself, you had to move away from all that you knew. It wasn’t easy, the decision taking you weeks to accept. At least you had your move, the unpacking and organizing of your new apartment, and your work to keep you busy; to keep your mind occupied on things that didn't revolve around how alone you felt.

But that could only last for so long, a temporary solution for an abiding problem; you knew it wouldn’t last. And after all the boxes were unpacked, all your furniture was properly arranged - and rearranged, and you finally found your stride at work; you couldn’t distract your mind any longer. That getting up and ready for work became a task that grew harder and harder to do every day. After a few months of adjustments, you just couldn’t bear the loneliness you felt whenever you came home; to emptiness and silence.

It wasn’t something you were used to and you knew you would never become. It never happened before in your life, never was a constant, even if your family was away you could always hop onto chats and spend your nights laughing with your friends.

And now? Well, you were halfway across the world. When you got up, your friends were fast asleep, and when they finally sent you a message you were on your way to bed. There was no real way to quell the ache that you felt in your heart in the traditional ways you knew how; you knew you needed a different solution.

And there was really only one solution you could think of.

You got yourself a dog.

A little lapdog with a goofy, but sweet, personality from the shelter nearby. A scruffy thing who couldn’t contain the hopeful wag of his tail as you walked by his kennel; one that couldn’t help but jump on the chain link barrier that separated you both, and then onto your legs when you went to greet him. One that filled your face with almost desperate kisses when you finally bent down to say hello; to give him a chance at a new home.

And it seemed you both were made for each other. Out of all the ones you saw that day, this one looked almost as lonely as you. But now? Well, the loneliness that etched across your sweet dog’s face no longer showed, just as the heaviness that clouded and weighed your heart down started to fade away.

No longer would you come home to emptiness, instead you had a ball of fluff and fur to greet you with enthusiasm as they wagged their tail and jumped on you in excitement to see you once more. And no longer would your little friend ever have to worry about sleeping all alone on a cold cement floor, with only a thin bed to keep him from getting a chill, wondering when someone would take him home and give him a warm bed to sleep on.

A match made in heaven, you joked as you snuggled up together each night on the couch to watch your favorite TV program after enjoying a nice dinner. Though your little furry friend always broke up your cuddle session, and your show, in the middle as they whined to go to the bathroom.

You would always oblige, and soon it became a part of your schedule. You began to enjoy the fresh air and routine it gave; to where 5-minute walks would turn into 10 and then into 15. Now your evenings consisted of 30-minute walks with your best friend by your side, trotting along as you mapped out all sorts of new paths to take, new sights to see, and new parts of the city to explore.

You finally, after a few months of exploring with your enthusiastic little friend, found a route that fit both of your needs. Lots of beautiful scenery for you to enjoy with limited hills and roads to cross so your aging dog didn’t lose steam too quickly.

Every night you did this little song and dance, to the point where if you ran even a few minutes behind your little friend would start giving you attitude. You also surmised that the time you did go on your walks was perfect as you never really ran into anyone, or their own dogs, or had to worry about anything else in the world that would break your stride. For all you knew, it was just you and your dog - no one or anything else mattered.

Well, turns out there was one other person in your world, though he had yet to make it be known.

Besides, Bokuto had not meant for this to be a daily occurrence.

He noticed you a few times whenever he got home after practice, your walking figure catching his eye whenever he moved about in his apartment. He never really gave it, or you, much thought.

That was until he injured his leg and had to be on bed rest for two whole weeks. Not being able to move, not being able to practice and play volleyball - the one thing he loved most - was nearly unbearable. But that doom and gloom would be alleviated, just slightly, whenever you would walk by.

Bokuto wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the consistency? The reassurance then whenever your recognizable figure crossed through his window meant that he got through another day. Maybe it was because it gave him something to do, he did find himself casually watching other dog walkers that passed by throughout the afternoon and evening. Or maybe it was because it was specifically you. Bokuto couldn’t put his finger on why, but something drew him to you.

“Probably because she’s new around here.” That was his reasoning. Made sense to him, a new person in the neighborhood would cause some added curiosity.

But he knew that wasn’t the case. It’s not like he knew anyone in his neighborhood, let alone his apartment building.

Bokuto truly had not meant for all this to escalate out of proportion; to peer out his apartment window every day until you showed up. And now here he was, weeks after being healed, rushing to get his shoes off and throw his stuff to the side so he could watch you pass by. It was pathetic really, to be so enthralled by someone who walked across the street every day, but his heart kept pulling him closer to the window.

His friends had teased him about it, one day after practice as he rushed to get home with them by his side so they could drop their stuff off at his place before going out for the night. Watching him as he got all flustered at a person across the street.

“Dude, it’s kinda creepy, ya know!” Atsumu laughed, arms laying across the taller man's shoulder as he leaned on him - peering out the window to see you obviously unaware of their stares “Watching this girl obsessively.”

“That’s textbook stalker behavior~” Kuroo would join, also laying his weight on him, poking his flushed cheeks in a teasing manner.

“N-no it’s not! I am just making sure she passes my block safely! It’s dangerous to walk at night, you know!” Bokuto would shoot back.

“Ya’live in the safest neighborhood in the whole city!”

“Yeah, and besides whatta gonna do from all the way up here?”

Bokuto just shrugged them off, mumbling more to himself some sort of excuse for his behavior - some sort of made-up plan he had in place should the need to rescue you arised. But he knew, as much as they did, that there was no plan - or excuse - he just liked knowing you walked by him every day; that you were in his life for a brief moment.

At the time, he didn’t think much of it; at how alone he really was. Thinking that when he caught your eye briefly and grew a little bashful was out of embarrassment and not because it made his heart flutter. But it happened once again when they were hanging out, a little get-together before leaving on tour, how Bokuto would keep looking out his window with worry in his eye before they would soften into a form of sweet longing, that same woman walking by.

“Just go down and ask her out!” Hinata's bright voice would encourage him.

“Not like she’ll turn you down!’ Atsumu would add with a wink

The teasing would continue, even after you passed, of how much of a love-struck chicken he was for not talking to you. About how he was a little creepy for just staring at you and your dog as you walked by without a care in the world.

“I know,” Bokuto would sigh, longingly, in agreement “I’m just waiting for the right moment is all.”

Then, months later, after the winter tour had ended and the world was in the warmer, but rainier, spring weather, Bokuto would finally get that opportunity. When you accidentally dropped your pair of gloves that were stored in your pocket; an accident you didn't notice as you were too busy getting, and opening, the doggy bag that also resided in your cute little coat. Quickly, without truly thinking, he ran out to grab them. Waiting until after you had turned the corner off his street to make his way to where they lay, his bare feet becoming frozen on the concrete as he trotted over. He didn’t want them to be stolen or swept away with the wind to be forever lost. Gloves were expensive after all! And besides, given the cute design they had, he could tell you would miss them. A small sense of victory filled his being, as he now had the perfect chance to talk to you.

But that chance never really did come.

You came by the next day, earlier than normal, making Bokuto curse as he contemplated running out of his apartment in nothing but a towel; figuring against it as it would not be the best first impression or look good on his character or reputation, and he knows Iwaizumi would kill him if he got sick doing something so idiotic.

So, he figured he would get the chance to meet you tomorrow. That he would make sure to be ready early just in case you decided to pull a stunt like that again. But as he eagerly waited by his window, gloves in hand, the next evening you never did appear; you figure never walking down his street. He waited until late that night, just in case, but you never showed. Not the next day, or the day after that.

Soon days turned into weeks and then into months, and you had never once appeared in his window, walking on that sidewalk across the street. The gloves, tan in colour and with bright pink pom poms, lay untouched as they would greet him by his door every day, waiting for you as much as him.

Bokuto wondered where you, and your little furry companion, had disappeared to. He hoped it was somewhere good. Couldn’t help but have his mind wander to where you were and to all of the things you were getting up to, and couldn’t help but dream that it involved him as well.

Maybe you were in the countryside, enjoying the vastness and peace they gave as their winds swooped over the wheat fields and across your cheeks. Or perhaps in the mountains, enjoying their trails as you hiked up and down them, your dog in tow trying to keep up with a tree branch in their mouth. Or maybe you were in some onsen, inhaling the steam with a happy sigh as you soaked in the hot, soothing, waters.

Bokuto always had to stop his brain from continuing when he thought of you at hot springs; ignoring the strain of his cock as he thought about how soft and warm your skin would be - how he wished to be bathing right next to you, to feel every curve of your body.

He had to stop, he didn’t want to defile you like that; not without even knowing your name.

Bokuto just wanted you back. Even if it was only for the mere moments, the few seconds he got when you strolled on by with your happily trotting dog; strolled on briefly through his life with that pretty smile.

You hadn’t meant for your trip back home to last as long as it did. What started as a simple voyage home early for the Easter holiday extended considerably to having you stay. With your family’s urgent needs overtaking any reason you may have had to leave. You were lucky the job you had was flexible, able to accommodate you in your time of need, and that you had your dog with you; unable to bring yourself to think of what might have happened if you left him in a kennel all those months.

Now you were just lucky everything ended well and that you could finally get back to your cozy apartment and the routine you had made for yourself and your sweet dog; the one you neglected for a long time, and were sorely wanting to get back to.

You sighed in delight when the fresh air you longed to return to, that only this city could provide, hit your face as you made you trek out on your usual route once more; the sereneness you felt was like seeing an old good friend after years apart, as your feet began their first steps on the pavement while you enjoyed the late October breeze.

It was a long and grueling practice and Bokuto truly couldn’t think of a better way to end his day than crawling into bed and forgetting it ever existed. Kicking his door open with a groan, practically throwing his bag by his coat closet with a loud thud, and placing his keys in the bowl on the little table he kept nearby. He eyed the gloves too small for him briefly, eyes and body filled with a sense of sadness as he regaled at how he let his opportunity go.

Kicking himself internally he sighed, hands rubbing his face as he groaned once more, this time in frustration, as he walked further into his home.

“Why didn’t I just go out there? Not like I was naked…” he grumbled as he began shrugging off his coat, slowly making his way to his bedroom and walking by that cursed window.

His eye caught movement, one that made his head turn slightly out of impulse. But never fully, he knew it was of someone walking by, so he ignored it at first. Assuming it was someone just doing a late job, running an errand, or stopping by to get their mail. Whatever the case was, he didn’t want to think further of it - to have those thoughts lead to you.

But something inside him told him to take another glance; compelling him to go to the window like he once had many times before and to take a proper look, his heart aching at him to try just one more time.

And there was you. Appeared at long last when all hope seemed lost, leaving him dumbstruck as he stared out at your form with his jaw slack and his eyes wide.

It didn’t take long for him to break out of his surprised stupor, rushing out of his apartment as he fumbled with his coat, falling with little grace as he tripped over his duffle bag but with no care about the poor downstairs apartment that had to endure the loud thud or his now aching knee or whether he had grabbed his keys to prevent him of being locked out. All that mattered at that moment was you, and the tan gloves that you had lost and which would grant him the opportunity to finally talk to you.

Bokuto called out to you, his voice he was sure louder than expected as you jumped in scared surprise, as he dashed across the street to where you stood in a stupor. He was out of breath, he knew, and he also knew that while he stood there panting to try and regain it was not helping his case.

This was truly the last thing you were expecting, normally your brief counters with people were a polite smile as you passed each other, briefly sharing the sidewalk. And it was so far and few in between that you never really thought much about it or the people you passed; them always being a blur in your memory.

But this? Well, you would be sure never to forget this moment. Not only was your heart racing, the loudness of the man’s shout before you startled you to the point you were sure you would keel over with a heart attack at any moment. But that he was incredibly tall and imposing and…..handsome.

You couldn’t help the way your face warmed at the sight of him, both out of bashfulness over how close he was and how his golden eyes bore into your own, and in embarrassment at how little your fight or flight response acted; just allowing you to stand there frozen with a dumb gaped look on your face.

“I- I’m really sorry for scaring you!” Bokuto apologizes, moving his open palms up to showcase he meant to harm “You just um - uh you dropped your gloves a while ago and I-I uh grabbed them, which I guess sounds bad, but I just didn’t want them stolen or anything, and I- I have been meaning to give them back to you so um…..”

Bokuto gently, but with little grace as he fumbled for a moment, pulled your gloves out of his pocket, holding them out for you to take “Yeah… here. Sorry, it took so long to give them back…”

You found his eagerness, and nervous fumbling adorable, as you timidly laughed; gingerly reaching out to take your old gloves from his grasp.

“Thank you…” You mumbled, your voice unable to break higher than that “But I suppose it wasn’t your fault. I’ve been gone for a while, family stuff ya know? But um, again, thanks. It’s really sweet of you to wait so long to give them back.”

You had a hard time meeting his gaze, embarrassed even more over the fact that you not only lost your gloves, but that you forgot all about it and that the poor man before you had kept them for months, waiting to get rid of them and back to you, and that said man was staring so intently at you - you had never been looked at in such a way and you didn’t know what to do.

“Of course, it’s only the neighborly thing to do, right?” Bokuto smiled, making your knees buckle more, “I’m Bokuto Koutaro, I live in this building here! And who is this?”

“I am so sorry!” You squeaked, trying to gently pry your dog off his legs “His name is Rufus, he’s so terrible about jumping on people, he just wants pets, I’m so so sorry!”

“Hey, don’t we all?” He laughed, crouching down to give your dog the attention he so cutely asked for. “Aren’t you a cutie! So, Rufus, are you new around here? New to the neighborhood maybe? Cause I have seen lots of cute dogs but never seen you before!”

“Kinda,” You giggled, laughing at how your dog had thrown himself on his back for belly rubs and the cute way this stranger - well not technically stranger anymore - was indirectly asking you questions “We moved here almost a year ago, but only really started walking this route for a few weeks before, well, we had to leave for a bit.”

“Yes…. I see, that’s very interesting Rufus, thank you.” Bokuto nodded, sticking his chin out further to get some of the kisses your dog was trying to give “Now tell me, what’s your pretty owner’s name, hm?”

“O-oh uh um!” You fumbled, caught off guard by the compliment, but still managed to provide him the response he was looking for; giving forth a shy smile to his more bright one.

“Well, that’s a pretty name, isn’t it Rufus?”

“T-thank you, um we-we um should get going, the sun is starting to set and stuff… don’t want to take up more of your time.” You mumbled, tugging your dog gently, and successfully, away to slowly start walking your route once more.

“H-hey, wait!” Bokuto called out, taking a few steps to close the small gap that was made between the two of you “Would… would you like to grab a coffee or something sometime?”

His request caught you off guard, your gaping mouth that you had to shut quickly (and loudly) proof of that, but not in a bad way as you nervously cleared your throat

“Y-yeah, that sounds really nice,” You smiled excitedly, almost giddy as rummaged in your pocket for a moment to pull out your phone “Give me your number and I’ll let you know when I’m next available.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, his eagerness once again making you giggle and his bright smile making your knees buckle, as he grabbed hold of your phone, waiting not a second to input his number along with a cute nickname before handing it back.

“Text me soon, okay?”

“O-okay!” You agreed, your smile almost mirroring his own as you gave him a final wave goodbye, tugging your dog gently off his legs one last time to resume your walk.

You both felt weightless as you walked back to your respective homes. You were unable to weaken the dumb, broad, smile that was glued on your face as giggled to yourself over your encounter with that handsome man, as you kept glancing down at the gloves he so kindly returned to you - whispering your thanks as you held them to your heart.

Bokuto’s legs felt like jelly as he sauntered back over to his building, fumbling with the intercom to try and gain access to the complex; his own dreamy and dumb expression never leaving his face as he almost incoherently asks to be let back in. Stumbling his way back up to his floor and through the threshold of his home, he thought of you and your cute smile; how he wants to see it again and soon. Excitedly he broke out of the trance you left him in to furiously type his text to you; the same one you receive as soon as you walked through the door

‘Please tell me I can meet you tomorrow!’

How interesting it was, how time could move so slowly and so quickly at the same time. How hours seem to fade into days, which fade into one another, and then all of a sudden a month will have passed and you never even realized it - like a blink of an eye.

It’s a combination of things, for time to move like this. For if it was just passing by quickly it would mean either life was so dull that things just blended together and time would then be wasted; or it could be the opposite, that all sorts of fun and excitement were happening at once that you could barely keep up. But if it is both, those days seem to drag on but weeks seem to end swiftly, then it’s a mixture of the two.

And really, that was the perfect explanation for it all.

During the day as you worked the hours seemed to drag on, but in the evenings whenever you had to walk your dog, or on the weekends, it was like time was doing everything it could to make the day anew again; to subjugate you to the long and drawn out hours of boredom work provided.

But whenever you weren’t at work, you found yourself crossing paths with your handsome new friend Bokuto. That was probably why time seemed to pass on by, it always seemed to move fast whenever someone was having fun. And you couldn’t lie that you were having the most fun you had in months while you were around that exuberant man, His positivity and brightness were contagious, and no matter how run down you felt, no matter how bad the day was, once you saw his smile it was like nothing bad happened at all.

Ever since you took the leap and replied to his enthusiastic text with one of your own stating a time to go out with you the next night to help you walk your dog, it has been a whirlwind of that bright fun.

Going to cafes to get coffee, trying out new restaurants that popped out of nowhere, trying out the hiking trails that you never knew existed, and exploring hidden corners of the city you had yet to explore. All while he held your hand tightly and dazzled you with his beaming smile every time you went out with him.

On top of it all, every weekday, after you finished work, Bokuto would try his best to meet where it all began. To wait out in front of his apartment building in hopes to catch you, to then continue on walking with you for the remainder of your trip home; taking hold of your dog’s lead as he happily tucked your arm underneath his instead - his excuse was always “gotta make sure you make it home safe” smiling down at you if you ever tried to complain.

Before you knew it a month had passed. A month filled with good morning texts, evening walks in the cool autumn air, and weekends filled with little dates. Your days consumed with the attentions and affections of a man you never thought you would meet, let alone be romanced by so energetically. It was all so sudden, almost overwhelming, but so welcomed all the same.

Though, with all the affection and time spent together, you couldn’t definitely say what you were; if you were his girlfriend or not. You couldn’t say there was nothing between you both, not with the small nervous gestures he gave you, like all those lingering kisses he would press to your forehead whenever he dropped you off. Never actually pressing his lips to yours, as if he was afraid of overstepping a boundary.

Due to this, you couldn’t claim to be official, that he was your boyfriend, that you were going steady. Which made butterflies form in your tummy when you asked him for a large favor; not sure if he would be okay with it all. After all, you hadn’t even kissed yet.

A work event was approaching, and it was mandatory that you go to it. Which meant you had to leave for an entire weekend. Normally, weekend trips were fine, as you could bring your furry companion with you. But you couldn’t bring your dog with you, the hotel your work arranged for you to stay at wouldn’t allow it. And you didn’t want to spend hundreds of dollars to send your dog to a service, or allow a stranger into your home to take care of them; who knows what they might look at or steal.

You decided to bite the bullet when the week of the event came up; figuring that the worst-case scenario was Bokuto would say no - but given how close you had gotten over the past month you had high hopes.

Besides, he was the perfect option. You would feel comfortable with him in your home, he had been over a few times before, and your dog adored him. And, he lived close by too, so if something were to happen or if he didn’t feel comfortable staying at your place for a few days it wouldn’t be the end of the world; he and your pet would just a few blocks.

You asked him, on a particularly warm Tuesday night for October, and he said yes without hesitation. You didn’t know why he agreed, perhaps it was in the bashful manner you asked, or maybe he could sense the quiet desperation in your tone. But, overall, it didn’t matter to you, just as long as your home and precious pet were safe.

But just as your life had started to slowly be consumed by him in all those little ways he had woven himself into your daily routine; Bokuto’s was completely taken away by you.

He couldn’t help it. Bokuto found himself thinking about you all the time, at almost every moment of the day. While grocery shopping he thought of what you might buy, and what dishes you might make yourself. At practice when he was supposed to be listening to his coach, or paying attention to the plays happening before him, all he could think about was having you sit on the bleachers cheering him on. Even late at night after you had sent your last text of the day, wishing him goodnight, he was thinking about you, almost obsessed by you, though he figured it was inevitable given how borderline obsessive he was before he even knew you; when he would just watch your figure pass by his window every day.

That was probably why he said yes to your request; not wanting to say no to your cute face or to possibly jeopardize his future chances of being with you. Besides, he loved your dog, and the chance to be in the place you called home, for longer than a moment to drop you off, was far too tempting.

“My goodness, again, thank you so much for doing this!” You gushed once more as you rushed to get the last of your things together, pushing Bokuto further into your home.

“No problem at all! Happy I could do this for you” He beamed, still holding onto the bag you had practically thrown at him when you opened the door to greet him.

“I know, I know…” You took a breath, finally taking the proper moment to actually acknowledge him “But still… figured I would let you know how appreciative I am; so, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He responded in kind, his smile was so gentle that it made your heart skip a beat.

“R-right! Um… I wrote a list of what Rufus needs. His feeding schedule, walk schedule, all that kind of stuff. It’s on the kitchen table, so take a look.” Your voice went faint, though Bokuto could still hear you, as you walked away from him into your bedroom “It, it also has the passwords to my streaming services, should you want to use them.” You let out a small huff, as you dragged your suitcase from your bedroom “You are also free to have whatever you like from the kitchen! Nothing is off-limits, so go nuts. And um… you know if you wanted to bring your girlfriend over to hang out that’s cool with me too!”

You took your bag from Bokuto’s hold, taking a moment to peer inside to double-check you had all you needed in there. As well as looking at your suitcase to take a second to recall all you put in; trying to see if you had forgotten anything; doing your best to try and play it cool over what you just said.

“Well, that won’t be necessary,” Bokuto mumbled, doing his best to look at you but not stare. a hand fiddling with one of his hoodie’s drawstrings “The girlfriend thing I mean… don’t have one so… yeah.”

His nervous chuckle made you follow suit making you pause your tireless item shuffling to glance up at him; your smile was small before growing wider alongside his and you shared a brief moment - on that you both couldn’t really put a name to, but knew it was a good one all the same.

“Alright, I think I’m good to go!” You bit your lip, taking hold of your suitcase; extending the handle for easier use.

“Safe travels, okay? Text me when you get there!” Bokuto asked, opening the door for you to avoid any further struggles

“Don’t worry, I will!” You leaned up, placing a quick peck on his lips before walking through your threshold “Thanks, again! I’ll see you in a few days!”

Bokuto watched you leave, down the hall, and into the elevator with a dumbstruck look on his face; if you weren’t in such a hurry you might have laughed at that. But as soon as you were out of sight that shocked look turned into one of dumbstruck love as a goofy smile crossed his face as he closed your door with a goofy-sounding chuckle.

‘Our first kiss’ was all he could think about as he wandered over to your couch, plopping down on it as he absent-mindedly pet your dog as he relived the way your lips felt over and over again. Hoping that when you came back, he would be graced with another one.

The first night went without a hitch. Due to your late afternoon departure, all Bokuto had to do was put Rufus out for the last time, and then enjoy the night in. Ordering food and choosing a movie to play in the background as he absent-mindedly scrolled his phone - sending a good night text your way once you confirmed you made it to your hotel safely. And given that Iwazumi was so hard on him, and his team members, in training earlier that day, he didn’t think twice about hitting the hay once he got back from that final walk with your furry friend.

However, the next morning would prove to be his downfall.

Though it wasn’t like it was his fault really. It was just, sleeping in your bed, being surrounded by the smell of you - the whisper of floral from the shampoo that you use lingered on your pillows, the faint smell of your laundry detergent that comforted him as he snuggled deeper in your blanket, and the scent of your faded sweat the clung the deeper he sunk into your sheets - all of it was so uniquely, perfectly, utterly you that his body acted without thinking.

And maybe it was because he was laying in your bed, surrounded by the same sheets that clung to your body in ways he could only imagine, could only dream about. That such an innocent act was something far more intimate than he, and more than likely yourself, thought it could be. It was something that got to him more than it should.

No matter how much he tossed and turned, tried to think of anything else, his body betrayed him. And as the sun’s rays hit his eyes, signaling a new day, his stiffened cock stood proud, barely contained by the fabric of his boxers, just as it did when he first crawled into your bed.

“A cold shower would do the trick,” Bokuto whispered to himself as he dragged his body into an upright position, keeping an eye on your dog to make sure he was still asleep. “Always works before a game….”

And it did. Well… whenever he was about to play a game, or away on tour and needed to get rid of his morning wood before meeting his teammates. This was proving to be a different case all entirely. And he was only a man.

A weak, weak, man too easily trumped by temptation.

He would apologize, and beg to whatever god that was above, for your forgiveness and understanding but he couldn’t help but stroke his cock to the thought of you. How your skin would look all lathered in bubbles from the body wash he was currently inhaling; never once thinking the smell of hibiscus would make his eyes roll to the back of his skull. Imagining how he would bend you over, pressing you against the cheap tile wall, and fuck you so hard that your neighbors could hear the sound of your moans over the water; how pretty your pussy would look after he came so deep inside, how his cum would slowly seep out and down your pretty legs before being washed away down the drain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bokuto hissed, as his hipped jerked into his hand, his release overtaking him making a mess of his hand, chest, and your shower wall; silently, and shamefully watching it go down your drain - disappointed over the reality of it all.

The rest of the day went decently enough. Bokuto avoided your room and everything in it, even your bathroom for most of the day in fear of having to take another hour-long shower. Instead, he occupied his time by taking your dog out on a nearby, local, hiking trail; one that traversed close to and alongside a river. Your dog loved it, and Bokuto made sure to keep a mental note to take you out here soon before the weather got too cold and the river would freeze over.

He also spent his time, the majority of his evening, catching up on the latest TV drama Hinata was begging him to watch; keeping the younger man updated on which episode he was on, and taking small breaks to feed your dog or to take him on his needed walks for bathroom relief.

But Bokuto knew he couldn’t avoid it forever; that when night fell, he would crack once more. He knew he should have slept on the couch, to deal with the aches in his joints, the soreness in his muscles, and whatever back pain he would inevitably have by huddling and sleeping in such a still position on your too-small couch. But the allure of sleeping in your sheets - to be surrounded by the same comfort you allowed yourself to enjoy every night - was too enticing.

It was a sleepless night, once again.

Though this time it was not spent like the night before, where he was tossing and turning to try and settle down to get a proper night's rest. Bokuto knew that it would be pointless to try. Instead, fueled by the faded smell of your shampoo that lingered on your pillowcase, he took hold of your fluffiest pillow, and slotted it between his legs; against his weeping and aching cock. No longer able to help, or ignore the heat that coursed through his veins.

His whimpers, though muffled, echoed within your empty bedroom as the sound of your headboard softly hitting the wall behind accompanied the sinful symphony as his body crushed your favourite pillow; hips desperately trying to keep that wonderful friction it gave to get him over the edge. Bokuto thought about how you would look folded into a mating press as he pinned you in place with nothing but his weight; how sweet you would look with tears in your eyes as you babbled on about how much you loved his cock.

“Yeah, just like that…. fuck, you’re such a good girl….nngh!.... You like taking my cock, huh? You like how my fat cock stretches you out? Come on… come on say it, please?”

It went on all night long, and when the morning sun finally hit his tired eyes did Bokuto finally feel spent; finally felt like he got all his pent-up frustrations out of him. Though his body screamed at him to not move, to lay down and rest, he had to ignore it. Had to take your soiled bedding - pillows, sheets, and blankets - off your bed so they could be washed. If he had more energy he would wince in shame over how much cum he managed to spill out onto it all; but right now he couldn’t give a damn. It was more than worth it to him.

Bokuto blessed the gods above that you had a washer and dryer within your cute apartment; how thankful he was not to have to take them all the way down flights of stairs and possibly run into one of your neighbors. He quickly went to put a load on, knowing he had to take care of a few last things around the house, for your little dog, and place some new sheets on your bed to dissuade any suspicion before you got home.

And oh what a blessing your little laundry room was.

There, sat atop your dirty laundry within the hamper you kept so neatly tucked away, sat a pair of pretty pink lace panties. He knew you had worn them, knew that they were meant to be washed, knew you had not left them there to tease him but instead discarded them like anyone would with used clothing, and he knew he should have just walked away from them. But they were so pretty, Bokuto couldn’t help but grab them for a closer look.

Couldn’t help but enjoy the way the soft fabric felt against his calloused fingertips. Couldn’t help but bring them up to his face, couldn’t help the way his mouth watered from the musky smell that greeted him, and certainly couldn’t help what he was about to do.

He knew it was wrong; he only has a few hours before you came home for Christ's sake. But this whole weekend was a perfect example of how little control he had when it came to you. That despite how wrong it all was, how he was violating your privacy and taking advantage of this situation, he couldn’t quell his lust as he took another deep inhale of your scent that stayed on that flimsy piece of fabric; his loose athletic shorts slipping past his hips as his angry-red cock sprung free once again.

“Gotta be quick…. gotta be quick - fuck!” He kept muttering to himself as he furiously pumped his hand up and down the length of his cock; doing his best to finish quickly and move on to what he was supposed to be doing.

He thought of you on top of the washer; sitting like the good girl you were as he knelt before you and ate you out like his last meal - your moans and mewls shaking in rhythm to the vibrations of the machine below you. The whole image being brought to him in a clearer focus in his mind due to the constant inhale of your fragrance.

Bokuto came with an unexpected groan, finishing much faster than he anticipated; not realizing just how effective those pretty panties of yours were. He collapsed against your wall with a deep and satisfied sigh; doing his best to calm his heart and breathing down. He could hear his phone go off from the other room, the specific chime meant it was you - clearly texting him that you were almost home. Bokuto sighed one last time, knowing he was not in an even bigger hurry to clean things up; starting with the panties he had balled in his fist.

Maybe… maybe you won’t notice if they are gone….

or perhaps maybe you will

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miwsolovely · 6 months

Text

dad!ghoap au | ghoap x gn!reader

sun burnt eyes and bunnies

tw: ( mentions of ) nightmares

a/n: simon is so whipped here um… ( unedited )

Teddy woke them up before their alarm did.

“Da, Da! Wake up, wake up!”

The body pressed into his front let out a grunt. Meanwhile the tiny body jumping on their bed was stepping on their legs.

The sun barely showed itself above the horizon and their daughter was up before them and full of energy. Johnny would say that she got the early bird genes from him. Simon would counter saying she inherited his golden retriever attitude.

With groggy eves and slow, sleep ridden movements Johnny sat upright against the headboard and pulled their daughter in his arms with a smile. "Whit's keepin' ye up at this time hm, leannan?"

Simon shifted to his side and drank in the sight of his lover and his daughter speaking in hushed whispers, trying to be discreet and quiet while occasionally looking at him and giggling. He loved his daughter with his whole heart. From her dark black hair to her bright blue eyes, he loved her.

He loved Johnny with his entire soul as well as his heart, he'd always find a way to fight his way in anyways. Johnny always liked to brag to everyone he'd meet that Simon was his rock, his fortress, but Simon didn’t feel much like a rock with how he felt like he would tumble and break if anything could happen to his family. He felt less like an imposing fortress and more like a ball of tumble weed with how he felt his walls break and burn when his daughter came crying to him with a scrapped knee.

His heart was so fragile and seemed to be on the verge of breaking. But when nights were bad and he'd wake up with sweat making his clothes cling to him, suffocating him and making him choke on his own breath, Johnny would be there. Johnny would be his rock, making sure Teddy was still asleep and making sure he was changed into clean clothes. Johnny was his fortress, making sure the monsters of his eternal night were far away from him, making sure they wouldn't be able to taint their house, their family.

He loved them so much. He loved the way Teddy tickled her way out of Johnny's grasp and crawled his way towards him, and he loved her big cerulean blue eyes that only gazed at him with wonder and love.

Her face made home on his warm chest, her small hands grabbing at his large ones, playing with his fingers. "What's wrong Dada?"

Simon smiled and rested his free palm on her head, playing with her soft curls. "Nothin’ my darlin' Teddy. Just love you." He placed a kiss on her forehead and laughed as she giggled.

"I love you more!" She exclaims. Suddenly sitting on her knees and spreading her arms as wide as she can. "Ah love you an' Da this much!"

The weight of the bed shifting more to Simon's side made him aware of Johnny leaning towards Teddy and lifting her up, gaining a squeal of joy from her tiny lips.

"Oh yeah? Let's show yer Dad how much ye love ‘im then, eh?" He smiles. "How's breakfast in bed sound Si?”

Simon smiled a toothy smile and met Johnny halfway to meet his lips in a kiss. "Sounds like heaven.”

Johnny already felt his body shivering when he stepped outside.

Though he has a long sleeved shirt on with long pants, his thighs pressed against the fabric and his biceps were so prominently outlined with this shirt that it felt like he was walking outside bare naked; the clothing doing nothing for warmth he would’ve felt the same unforgiving chill if he was naked.

Johnny scratched his hair, his mohawk in need of a trim, he’d make sure to ask Simon to cut it for him. That or he’d just grow it out.

He let out a yawn, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Even with the barrier, he watched his breath escape him as a white cloud, vanishing into the air.

Reaching his mailbox, he smiled fondly at the pink hands of Teddy that greeted him.

‘RILEY HOUSE’ was written in a mix of yellow and green paint, three sets of hands in three different colors painted on the once white box.

‘SIMON’ , ‘JOHNNY’ , and ‘TEDDY’

Simon’s badge was written in black, blue for himself, and Teddy’s name was written in pink. Their hands forever painted on the mailbox below their names.

Johnny patted the mailbox with a fond look in his eye. He remembered Simon complaining about how the paint wouldn’t come off his hands. How Teddy ran around the house and stuck her tiny hands to the wall separating the kitchen from the living room and how Johnny smiled at her with love even though he knew the paint would never come off.

He loves his family. His Riley’s.

Johnny opened the mailbox and took the mail out, walking back to the front door with his eyes reading the mail and his hips jutting out with every step.

Bills, scam, scam, letter from his Ma he’d read once inside, bills, scam, clearance sale coming up, and a letter addressed to Simon.

Johnny’s thick brows met when he reached the last paper in the stack. A letter for Simon? He rarely gets any letters.

Pushing his worries aside, Johnny was near his door when he heard the opening and closing of another.

He looked to the house on his left and out came you. His neighbor that he never met. His neighbor that always seemed to wake up earlier than him and Simon.

Johnny stood pin straight on his porch, mail in one hand and the front doorknob in the other.

You were speed walking to your mailbox, your hair was out and the breeze was getting it in your face, your robe was flowing in the wind doing absolutely nothing to protect your soft skin from the chilly air and all the while, revealing the oversized shirt you were wearing.

If Johnny was a bad man, if he looked hard enough, he could see the little pebbles of your nipples and the form of your breast outlined by your shirt. But he wasn’t a bad man.

He was a good man, a respectable man. So he only saw the was your pants squeezed your thighs just as his own did his.

Though that didn’t seem any better, did it.

Distracted by the cup of coffee in your hands and the person you were calling on your phone, at the same time turning your phone over to your face every couple of seconds, likely checking the time and hoping it was earlier than 6:47 in the morning, you didn’t notice that you were almost in the middle of the street. You didn’t notice the car speeding.

You certainly didn’t notice Johnny dropping his mail, running towards you and scooping you up by your waist, placing you on the sidewalk in front of your house. Your hero.

The sun burnt his eyes. It was too early to be here. If he came later though, it would’ve been too late.

He heaved out a deep sigh and ran a calloused hand through his blond hair, wincing at the feeling of his fingers catching tiny knots and tugging at his scalp.

There were a dozen or so cars parked near the front of the school, parents eagerly waiting for their children to walk out of the big doors and into their arms. Parents who couldn’t stop gawking at him.

He’s not here to meet the stares of the married parents trying to lean on his car discreetly, he’s here for one thing and one thing only: his daughter.

But he can’t not stop thinking about the way the sun’s rays pierced his eyes and made him wish he was blind.

So, here he was, wishing he was deaf instead with how loud the end of school bell screamed in his ears, and wishing he had the eyes of a hawk so he could look at and wait for the beautiful elementary teacher to walk towards him with his daughter grasping her hand.

When you did come out, Simon realized why your name always fell from Johnny’s lips.

It’s might be the clothes hugging your figure. Might be the sun. It might just be you.

But the way your pants curves with your hips, forms with your thighs, your glowing skin kissed by the sun. You’re vibrant in the fabric, big eyes shining so bright it makes his knees buckle and he feels his breath catching in his throat. He can’t look away.

You’re a dove, perfect and pure, kind and naive, skin so soft he would feel like the softest of feathers were blessing his skin with kisses.

If he got close enough. If you’d grace him with the air you blew his way with a flap of your feathers. If.

You finished guiding the children to their parents, bidding them farewell with a wave accompanied by a delicate smile that made your eyes scrunch and cute footprints that reminded Simon of crows appear on the corners of your eyes.

Simon stood up straighter when you approached him with his daughter skipping and giggling without a care in the world. He felt his lips tug on his cheeks.

Teddy was looking side to side trying to find the tall man that was her father, when she met his eyes, Simon felt his smile match hers. Fun of life and love.

Teddy let go of your hand and almost broke into a full sprint, almost because your palm on her little stomach stopped her from doing so. You bent down a bit to match her height and reminded her about looking both ways before crossing the street.

Teddy smiled up at you and grabbed your hand once more, sticking her head to see the road better and seeing her head both right and left making her pigtails sway with the movement.

You patted her head with your free hand and now that you were a few feet away from him, Simon could hear your sweet voice.

“Good job Teddy! Always remember now, okay?” You smiled at his daughter with such, care, it made his heart squeeze.

“Mhm!” Teddy answered. She looked at Simon and a gasp escaped her lips as she let go of your hand and ran into his arms.

Simon smiled and squatted down to match her height, picking her up by her armpits and twirling her around in the air.

“There’s my girl,” He said, propping her on his hip and kissing the crown of her head.

You were just about to leave, midway into turning around and going back into there school into your classroom. But Simon wanted to actually see you up close. He wanted to drink you in and get drunk on your sweet nectar.

Teddy giggled, he’d never get enough of that, and she pointed at her teacher, at you. “Look, look its my teacher Daddy, aren’t they pretty?”

You turned around and paused, looking at Teddy in surprise. As if you haven’t heard a compliment like that before. As if you hadn’t heard a compliment done right, a compliment said by the right mouth.

Simon has the right mouth. He can shower you in compliments right and pure if he tried his hardest. If you gave him and Johnny a chance to.

“You’re right, love,” He says, looking at you with flowers blossoming through his eyes. You with the bright and lovely skin, you with those perfect lips he wished to kiss. “She’s beautiful.”

The way your eyes widened, Simon could tell your cheeks were warm, your ears burning.

“I—” You paused. Seemingly deciding your next words carefully with a hesitance that resembled one of a bunny. Meek and lovely.

Simon could see in your eyes that you were debating on how to answer, how to speak after what he and his daughter just said. You looked so confused and cute Simon couldn’t help the slow smile spreading across his face.

“Thank you, Mr. Riley,” You said softly. A shy thing you were. “That’s very kind of you.”

Simon thought your voice was heaven.

He would’ve kept taking to you, kept you tucked in his chest right next to Johnny in his heart. But he forgot he’s not alone.

He’s in the burning parking lot with parents pretending to look anywhere but him and the lovely teacher, trying not to eavesdrop and likely spread gossip that would stem from the lines of “why not come to my place-” or “i missed you, let’s do this again-”

However, Simon wouldn’t think those words would be such a bad idea to spread. You were a lovely person who deserved men to cherish and flaunt you. Simon and Johnny could do that job.

Johnny already does with how much he boasts about how amazing his daughter’s teacher is.

Teddy’s stomach started to rumble. Hungry clawing and cramping her poor stomach.

“Hungry, love?” Simon asks her, tilting his head down to look at her tucked into his neck. Teddy blinks up at him with tired laced eyes and nods softly.

“Let’s get you home to eat then, hm?” He assures, giving her a small smile and patting her head back into his neck for rest.

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Riley.” You say, and the breeze answers you with a cold wind that erupts your arms in goosebumps, making you shiver. Making Simon wish he brought a jacket to drape over your shoulders.

“Nice meetin’ you too, dove.” He nods his head at you and leaves you with a warm smile.

His heart pounds.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

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upat4amwiththemoon · 2 years

Note

so i checked out your guidelines and you said that you like plot to be included too so i hope this isn't too much for you.

R is 11 here if that's okay with you.

can i ask you to write an avengers x teen!reader where tony adopts a kid from foster care and the team is trying to get her to open up but she locks herself in her room because she's used to moving from home to home or being abused in the system so she's scared to do anything normal like interact and stuff like that. when they showed her room on the first day she was hesitant to go in bc she's used to poor treatment. Wanda and Nat are the first ones to notice her behavior and they point it out to the rest of the team. they come up with a plan to help her but it only pushes her further away from them bc she isn't used to that much attention. they decide that when she's ready she'll come to them so one game night she tip toes downstairs and peaks in the living room to see them having a good time. wanda or vision senses her energy and she tries to silently sneak back but they invite her in and she reluctantly joins them. she isn't too familiar with the games they're playing so they teach her then afterwards they watch a bunch of movies and they're glad they can give her the family she never had.

Family

Summary: Sometimes it takes a while to find your true family.

Pairing: Avengers x teen!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1116

a/n: This is not too much at all! Thank you for the request :) (I’m sorry this is terrible)

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

Walking into an entirely new surroundings is always anxiety inducing, but it’s especially scary when the people leading you to your so called new room are the world’s mightiest heroes.

There’s two men and two women in front of her, she knows who they are, of course, but she isn’t going to bring it up. Surely they have already sensed it.

One of the men, Iron Man, or Tony, as he told her to call him, is talking constantly. His hands are moving up and down, side to side as he gestures to different rooms and what’s in them. He is walking right in front of her, creating a sort of barrier between them. Wanda on the other hand, is walking next to her, occasionally glancing down at her.

Y/N keeps her eyes on Tony’s back. She doesn’t want to look anyone in the eyes or seem too fearful by mapping out the place.

“And this here,” Tony stops walking and opens a door, “is your room.” He turns to look at her with a big grin.

Not moving, Y/N stares inside the room. The four of them keep looking at her, waiting to see her reaction, but they get none.

Tony clears her throat. “You can go in, kid.” With small steps, she goes into the room. “We know it’s a bit empty, but you just tell me whatever you need and want, and I’ll buy it.”

She doesn’t need anything. It’s not like this room will be hers for long. It’s usual for her to stay in a home for a month at best. So, it’s better to not get attached to anything or anyone.

Wanda has a frown on her face as she watches Y/N set down her tiny bag. She’s worried of the girl, but puts those feelings on the side, this is a big change after all.

“Should we leave you to settle in?” Steve speaks up when the silence starts to drag on for a long time. “Someone could come get you when dinner is ready.”

With a nod from Y/N, the four of them close the door and leave her alone with her thoughts. With no one around, she lets out a deep breath and starts inspecting the room. It’s bigger than any other room she has had, and cleaner.

It’ll definitely be harder to leave this room behind when the time eventually comes.

After two very uneventful days, Natasha and Wanda have started talking with the other Avengers how Y/N doesn’t seem to get better, even though they’re giving her plenty of space. So, they decide to try another approach.

Wanda knocks on the door with a huge smile. Some of the other team members are behind her with boxes.

Opening the door only slightly, Y/N peeks through the gap. “Hi!” Wanda waves. “We got you something, if you could open the door a bit more?” Her voice is gentle and on the quieter side.

Y/N opens the door properly. Her eyes widen when she noticed the others and all the boxes waiting there. “We bought you some furniture and decorations.” Natasha brings one of the boxes in the room. “Obviously, we don’t know for sure what you like, but I think we got some good stuff.”

She stays frozen on her spot, out of the way, staring at the others walking in and out of the room. There are so many of them at the same time. Y/N doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Is this a test?

In fear of being punish for a wrong reaction, she decides to not react at all. Her hands are shaking behind her back, but she doesn’t let them see her fear. She just stares at them with a stoic expression.

“What do you think?” Wanda asks once the things are set. “You can obviously change things around if they aren’t to your liking, but this is a good start, yeah?” When Y/N just nods mutely, Wanda’s smile falls.

A silence falls over the room. Very uncomfortable and heavy silence. “Well,” Natasha clears her throat. “We’ll let you be.”

When the door closes, Wanda and Natasha glance at each other. “That didn’t work out the way I wanted.” Wanda mumbles. “I really thought that’d help her get out of her shell.”

“Maybe we just need to let her be.”

She huffs. “I know, it’s just so difficult when I can basically hear her worries.”

“It’ll happen, lets just do it on her terms.”

A week goes by where it almost seems like Y/N pulled into her shell even more. She wouldn’t speak to anyone, or even want to physically be in the same room as someone else. One of the team members always had to go knock on her door and leave a plate of food in front of it, so she would eat.

Most of the team got back into their regular routines, though their worry stayed the same, but they couldn’t stand outside her door forever. Wanda and Natasha would talk to her through the door at times, even if the conversation was fully one sided.

Today, the Avengers decided to spend the evening playing different board games. It’s not unusual for them, as they like to do bonding activities together.

Tony knocked on Y/N’s door to ask her to join them, but only got a small head shake as an answer. However, after an hour and a half, Y/N opens the door carefully.

She sneaks towards the living room, being cautious not to make any noise. Stopping right before the room, she peaks in. All the team members are laughing and shouting together.

Y/N takes deep breaths to calm herself down, these kind of situations still make her incredibly nervous. Suddenly, Wanda turns to look at her.

Her eyes turn wide and she is just about to turn away to go back to her room’s safety, but Wanda speaks up before she can. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you want to join us?” Now some of the others turn to look at her.

With hesitance, Y/N starts walking towards them. They’re surprised by this, but try their best not to show it. “We’re playing Monopoly. You ever played it?” Tony asks as Y/N sits between Wanda and Natasha.

“No.”

“That’s alright, we’ll teach you.” Wanda smiles, putting one more pawn to the board.

Y/N stays quiet for quite some time during the game night, but when the evening goes on, she starts initiating conversation more and even leans on Wanda’s side at times.

Maybe this family is different after all, it certainly isn’t ordinary.

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angelovestoru · 3 months

Text

Roses and Chocolate

Summary: Regulus always loved you, but he never showed it at all. However, when you take the first step, he falls harder enough to be brave.

Note:FLUFF TO THE MAX, requested, half proof-read

It was painful to watch you hang out with other people, especially when you were with his brother, Sirius. He could feel his anger and jealousy boiling up whenever you did. He liked you. Maybe love, although he never talked to you. His heart fluttered whenever he heard your voice, talking with a friend. Your scent gave him shivers. He never thought you would try to talk to him. He was the quiet introvert while you were more social. He never expected a girl like you would ever even look his way.

So when you talked to him at the library, his mind was a shock. He kept a cool demeanour, but his insides were doing backflips over and over again.

You and Regulus sat down together by the windowsill and discussed about your favorite books, and astronomy. This became a routine for you and him, so every night you would meet up with him and talked about different things.

As time passed on, Regulus fell harder for you. He would steal glances at you every now and then, a faint pink hue appearing on his cheeks sometimes. He felt the urge to confess to you how smitten he was for you. He felt all the cold barrier he built melting away with just a smile of yours. So he decided to give it a go.

He picked up a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolate, and waited for you to arrive to the library. He anxiously shook his legs and bit his nails, and you came rushing in. His eyes lit up at the sight of you. He shyly and pushed the flowers and chocolate to you, the pink hue more evident than ever.

“This is..for you.”

You looked at him, surprised.

“It’s not my birthday, Reg. What’s all this?”

“I….”

he stuttered, looking at you almost like he was going to break down.

“I..like you…really really like you..fuck it, I love you.”

you looked at him with wide eyes, surprised.

“You understand me and..no one has done that before..”

His eyes were getting glossy.

“Reg, I..like you too. I love you.”

he was surprised and overjoyed. He pulled you to a warm embrace, breaking his cold character.

“I love you, I love you, I love you so much..”

“I love you too, Reg. I love you so much.”

P.S

It was a warm autumn day, and your eyes wondered to the door, as Regulus stepped out. He hugged you tightly and gently held your hand.

“Shall we go?”

he asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Regulus and you stepped into Honeydukes, hand in hand.

#regulus black fluff #regulus black #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x female reader #regulus deserved better

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 year

Text

The Box.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - don’t ask me what this is because my brain has some weird ideas and has the weirdest inspiration.

word count - 1.5k

in which, your husband is ready to go on stage for fifteen out of fifteen nights at the kia forum, and the crew team come up with a way for him to get to the stage unnoticed, but his three year old daughter wants to get involved as-well.

Tonight was one of the shows that your husband had to postpone due to the flu. It was his fifteenth out of fifteen shows at the Kia Forum and this time, he was determined to fulfil all of his fans' dreams of seeing him.

Whether it was the first, second, third or tenth time. He always wanted to make them happy.

You stand backstage in the bustling atmosphere of the Los Angeles venue, excitement coursing through your veins as you hold your three-year-old daughter, Amelia, in your arms.

The tour crew rushes around, ensuring everything is in place for the show. Your husband stands nearby in his eccentric yet stunning outfit - silver trousers, a pink open jacket adorned with silver tassels on the shoulder pads, and a pair of pink Adidas Gazelles on his feet. He looks every bit the rockstar he is, and you can't help but smile proudly.

"Mommy, is Daddy going to sing for the people?" Amelia asks, her big curious eyes fixed on her father.

"Yes, sweetheart," you reply with a soft grin, nuzzling your cheek into her brunette curls. "Daddy is about to go on stage and sing his songs for all the fans."

"Wow!" Amelia gasps in awe.

Her gasp of awe alerted her father, who instantly made his way over to the two of you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and hugged the two of you close to him, the feeling of his rings cool against your skin.

"Hey, m’loves," Harry greets, planting a gentle kiss on Amelia's forehead. "Are y’excited t’see Daddy perform?"

Amelia nods enthusiastically, hugging her small arms around his neck. "I love you, Daddy!"

"I love you too, princess," Harry nods, his eyes full of adoration as he holds his little girl close.

Your cute family moment is soon interrupted by the backstage door opening up and seeing the familiar bald head of the backstage crew manager, Steve.

He enters the room, looking a bit flustered. "Harry, it's almost time. You need to make your way towards the stage."

You and Amelia follow Harry and the tour crew to where the entrance to the stage is. The area is buzzing with excitement, and you can hear the cheers of the fans beyond the backstage barriers. Harry glances back at you, his eyes slightly apprehensive about the upcoming task of walking outside in the midst of the eager crowd.

Steve, the crew member, approaches with a couple of other guys and a sly grin on his face. "Don't worry, Harry. We've got a plan to get you through the fans incognito."

Harry raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh, really? What's the plan?"

"We're going to wheel you in this," Steve tells him , pointing to a large black box labelled 'Soft Goods.' "It's going to be like transporting a precious piece of equipment."

Amelia's eyes widen with curiosity as she looks at the box. "Daddy, are you going to hide in there?"

Harry chuckles and kneels down to her level. "Yes, princess. Daddy's going t’hide in here so that he can sneak past the fans without them noticing."

Amelia giggles, finding the idea amusing. "That's silly, Daddy!"

"It might be silly, but it'll work," you chime in, giving your husband of five years an encouraging smile. "It's a creative way to keep a low profile and ensure you get to the stage safely."

Harry glances at the box and then back at you. "I don't know, it seems a bit risky."

Steve interjects, "Trust me, Harry, it'll be fine. We've done this before, and it's worked like a charm. Besides, it's all part of the fun and excitement."

Harry looks at Amelia, who gives him an excited nod, and he finally relents. "Alright, let's do it."

As the crew prepares to put Harry inside the box, Amelia suddenly squirms in your arms, her little face contorting with determination. "Mommy, put me down! I wanna go with Daddy!"

You lower her down gently, and she runs straight over to her father, her tiny arms reaching out for the box. "Daddy, I wanna go in with you!"

Harry looks down at her, his eyes full of love and understanding. "Oh, sweetheart, I know y’want to be with me, but it's not safe f’y’t’be in there. Y’have t’stay with mommy and watch from outside, okay?"

Amelia's bottom lip quivers, and tears start streaming down her cheeks. "But Daddy, I don't want you to be scared by yourself!"

Harry crouches down to her level, trying to comfort her. "I won't be scared, love. I promise I'll be fine. It's just a little adventure I have t’take t’get t’the stage."

"I don't care! I wanna be with you!" Amelia sobs, her little heart breaking at the thought of being separated from her father.

You step closer, placing a hand on Amelia's back. "Sweetie, it's important for Daddy to do this on his own. But he's going to be back before you know it, and then we can all be together again."

Amelia turns to look at you, her tearful eyes pleading. "Mommy, can't I just go in for a little while?"

"I'm sorry, love, but it's not safe," you reply gently, trying to soothe her.

Harry gives you a reassuring nod before addressing his little mini-me. "Y’know what, princess? Next time I have t’go in the box, y’can come with me, okay? We'll have a secret adventure together."

Amelia's tears begin to subside, and she looks at Harry with hope in her eyes. "Really, Daddy?"

"Really," Harry affirms with a smile, wiping away her tears. "But f’now, y’have t’stay with mommy, alright? She'll take good care of you."

Amelia reluctantly nods, but her little arms are still reaching out for her father. "Okay, Daddy. But hurry back!"

"I will, I promise," Harry assures her, giving her one last hug.

He looks over Amelia's shoulder to where you're standing and gestures for you to come forward. You step closer, and he leans in, giving you a peck on the lips. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," you reply, feeling the warmth of his love even in this brief moment.

You pick Amelia up, but she still tries to reach out for her father. "I don't want you to go, Daddy!"

"I have to, princess," Harry says softly. "But I'll be back soon, and we'll have the best time together."

As Harry crawls inside the box, the crew members gently close the lid, and you can hear Amelia's cries getting louder. Harry's muffled voice calls out from inside, "I love you, Amelia! Be good for mommy!"

Amelia's tears continue to flow as she clings tightly to you, watching the box with a mix of worry and anticipation. "I want Daddy to come back!"

"He will, sweetheart," you reassure her, holding her close. "He'll be back before you know it, and he'll be so happy to see you again."

With the plan in place, the crew members start wheeling the box towards the stage entrance, and you and Amelia follow closely behind. As you step outside, the cheers and excitement from the fans grow even louder.

Amelia tugs at your hand, looking up at you with wide eyes. "Mommy, where's Daddy?"

"He's right in there, sweetheart," you say, pointing to the box. "He's having a little adventure, and we'll see him on the stage very soon."

The crew members skillfully navigate through the crowd, Some fans do glance at the box with curiosity, but the clever disguise seems to work like magic, and nobody questions it further.

"Look, Mommy! It's the stage!" Amelia exclaims, pointing ahead.

You smile as you approach the stage entrance, where Harry will soon emerge. The crew members position the box strategically, right next to the stage lift that your husband and baby daddy will soon be stood on, ready to be elevated onto the stage, and you can feel the anticipation building in the air.

A few moments later, the box is opened,and from where your stood slightly down the hallway, Amelia’s head rested on your shoulder, and stood out of the way so you don’t get in the way of everything that’s going on, the two of you watch as Harry pops out, laughing as he dusts himself off.

"That was quite the ride!"

The crew members congratulate him on a successful journey, and Harry gives them a playful salute. "Thanks, guys. That was surprisingly fun."

Amelia squirms in your arms for the second time in the last ten minutes and instantly rushes towards him, hugging his legs tightly. "Daddy, you made it!"

"I sure did, princess," Harry grins, lifting her into his arms as well as he can given the limited space, pressing a kiss to her curls before lowering her back down.

He walks Amelia back over to you and presses one last kiss to your lips before making his way over to the stage lift, As the crowd roars in anticipation, your husband takes a deep breath, ready to step onto the stage and deliver another unforgettable performance. You stand behind him, holding Amelia's hand, and together, you watch him shine as he brings joy to the thousands of fans cheering his name.

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after-witch · 1 year

Text

Gutter [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Gutter [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: Mahito took you a while ago. He’s not human. But it gets harder and harder to remember that.

Word Count: 3000ish

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, noncon sex, mentions of mild physical abuse, degradation

You were so unremarkable that you doubted if even your parents could come up with something unique about you. Much less teachers, much less your (distant) friends.

You were just… you.

But there was something special about you, wasn’t there? Something that you never told anyone about, because by the time it happened--puberty, of course, it was always puberty--you were old enough to know that it spelled nothing but trouble.

Unremarkable, nobody-worth-mentioning-you… could see curses. Most people couldn’t, unless they had a talent for sorcery. You didn’t.

But you were unlucky enough to casually see the awful things usually hidden behind a thick blissful wall. A barrier that kept people from realizing a curse was latched onto their side, their back, their throat.

You did your best to ignore them. Look away. Pretend they weren’t real and go about your business and hope to heaven that none of them would ever try to latch onto you.

But one day, looking away from them wasn’t enough.

Because you bumped straight into a curse who didn’t look like a curse. And at first, you’d stammered, eyes to the ground, apologizing for being so clumsy to the man who was the unfortunate victim of your inability to pay attention to your surroundings.

“Oh,” the man said, “What’s this?” And it was the oddest thing. His voice sounded almost like a pleased purr. But why--?

The realization was slow, like walking through molasses.

You’d looked up, starting from his feet, slowly taking in an appearance that looked like it belonged on some Halloween show. A strange outfit. Scars, stitches, and mis-matched eyes.

A costume, maybe? But even you didn’t entertain that thought for long, because something about him was inherently wrong. It made your gut boil.

He peered down at you, a soft, growing curiosity on his face. His eyes were different colors. His face was stitched.

And then he grinned, and you knew what he was, because inside that grin was everything horrible that ever was and ever would be.

He was a curse. And he was smiling at you.

But it was too late for you to do anything about it.

The couch underneath you was stained and patched. But it was better than sitting on the concrete of the sewer, so you were grateful for it.

That’s what your life had dwindled down to--being grateful for a ratty, old sofa with mysterious (and regrettably, some not-so-mysterious) stains on the cushions.

You pick idly at one of the patches as Mahito comes into view, holding up a DVD case like it was a prized possession. You look up at him, because if you try to pretend he’s not there, he’s going to get annoyed. And if he gets annoyed…

“I got us a new movie!” He says, almost singsong. “It’s supposed to be very popular. I wonder why…” He flips over the case and skims over the back, and it makes your chest hurt. He looks so normal, in moments like these. He shouldn’t. He’s not normal. He’s not even a person, for God’s sake--

All thoughts cease as he inserts the DVD into the player and walks behind you, to what you might call the “kitchen” if you were going to call it anything. In reality it was a table stacked with haphazard boxed foods, a microwave and a small refrigerator intended for drinks.

This last gadget he’d only dragged down here after the third or fourth bout of all-night vomiting from foods left out at room temperature. And even then, he’d fought your begging with a smile and soothing words. “But I don’t mind when you throw up! I don’t think it’s gross at all. Really, you shouldn’t be so self-conscious.”

The sound of popcorn from behind you doesn’t come as a surprise. Nor is the scraping dread in your stomach that follows as he plops himself down on the couch and throws his arms around your shoulder unfamiliar--only unwelcome.

It’s a comedy. At least he didn’t lie about that. You barely pay attention, but he does. He laughs, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close now and then. It’s like you’re a couple having a movie night when the roommates are away.

Only you’re not.

His fingers dig into the bowl of popcorn, and there’s a steady crunch as he eats (even though he doesn’t need to) and watches a comedy (even though he gets amusement from far nastier things on a regular basis) and snuggles against you.

“Not hungry?”

His sudden voice is so close, his breath unnaturally cool against your cheek. It’s a blissful reminder of his inhumanity, that coolness.

You shrug. You should eat. At least popcorn won’t give you food poisoning.

You make no move to grab from the bowl, so he scoops another handful of popcorn into his palm and holds it up to your mouth, like he’s presenting a treat to a horse.

You slowly open your mouth--what might happen if you don’t?--and he pushes the pieces inside one by one. His long fingers linger on your lips, dragging over them, and you shudder.

“I like them both, really, but I want your opinion.”

Mahito shifts the two lingerie sets up and down, like he’s weighing them on a scale. One is a short black one-piece that is primarily see-through, with attached black garters creating a lascivious effect even on the hanger. The other is all pink frills, frou-frou to the extreme.

The thought of wearing either makes you want to throw up, and you screw your eyes shut and turn your head away. Maybe if you don’t give him a reaction, he’ll get bored and move on.

You should know better, though. He doesn’t mind prodding at you until you give him a response. Sometimes, you realize you should be grateful for that. He could just kill you, if you stopped being entertaining. Instead he makes sure you’re not fully tuning out, not fully retreating into a blank shell where you can imagine you’re somewhere else.

“Ahh, you’re feeling shy?” He grins and drapes both sets over a chair. You curl your fingers inward until they pinch your palms. “It’s okay. I’m the only one who will see you in them, you know…”

You dig in harder, until Mahito’s hand is on your chin, and your eyes open out of jerky reflex.

“Was that the wrong thing to say?” He looks genuinely confused, and genuinely curious. He lets go of your chin and slots himself next to you on the bed. “You’ll look good in either set! Or you can wear nothing. You’re prettier than me, did you know that?”

It’s like he’s trying out different things, to see what makes you tick in the right way. Or is he trying to make you feel better? Either option makes your chest tighten for different reasons.

You give him a tired, withering look.

He grins, and pokes your cheek.

“Don’t worry. If you can’t pick, I don’t mind taking the decision off your shoulders!”

Sometimes, Mahito fucks you. It’s never quite the same. It makes you feel like one of his experiments, though you’re writhing for quite a different reason than they are as he hums and decides just how large he wants to make himself for this particular session.

You’ve only come a few times, and it was essentially by accident. Mahito was mostly concerned with his own gratification, with stretching--sometimes literally--the limits to see what he could do. You don’t care, not really, but you can’t say it makes the experience more enjoyable when you’re left sore and unfulfilled.

Lately, though, he’s added something startling. More startling than when he surprises you with extra hands to shove roughly inside or an impossibly long tongue snaking into your mouth, choking you.

Now, he’s taken to holding you after sex. Not holding you down while you whimper and squirm, but simply… holding you. Quiet and calm.

And that’s where you are now, snug in his arms, sweat on your brow, as he guides your head to rest on his shoulder and rests his own chin on top of your head. His hands come up to stroke at your cheek, and you’re so tired, so dazed, that you don’t even flinch.

“That is pleasant, isn’t it?” He murmurs. You can’t tell if he’s asking you or talking to himself.

Pleasant…

As if he didn’t force you. As if he didn’t hold you down. As if there weren’t bruises on your wrists, your neck, your soul.

But as he pulls you closer and you find yourself lulled by the idle strokes of his fingers on your skin, the calmness exuding from his body, you can’t help but feel your body relax until it feels heavy and buzzing.

This was pleasant.

If you ignored everything else that came before.

Mahito pries open your thighs with only token resistance on your part, since you aren’t keen on the all too familiar bruises from his fingers today.

This is not unusual.

Mahito spreads your legs apart and doesn’t immediately start fucking you with his fingers or cock.

This is a little unusual.

Mahito crawls in between your legs, flat on his stomach, and rests his chin in his hand while he stares intently at your pussy.

This is definitely unusual.

“What are you…” You lean up on your elbows, curiosity and fear swirling sourly in your stomach.

He pouts up at you.

“I’ve been selfish, haven’t I? I read a book…” He points to the stack of books piled next to his hammock, as if you know exactly which one he’s talking about. “It says women are often ignored by men when it comes to sex. That some women don’t even get to orgasm!” He sighs, drawing it out. “I have been ignoring you… so awful.”

His gaze returns to between your legs,

There is a dueling urge to snap your thighs shut or spread them wider.

Mahito makes the choice for you. He reaches out and gently pulls the lips of your pussy apart.

“This little button for instance… the book said most women need it touched.”

You swallow hard.

His thumb reaches out and strokes your clit, softly, almost tickling.

“It’s like a little pearl.” There’s a grin in his voice as he continues to rub. You can’t help it when your hips grind down, wanting more friction than he’s giving. He seems to take the hint and presses harder, and there’s a delightful spark of pressure that runs straight down your gut.

“Mahito,” you gasp.

“I like that,” he whispers. “Say my name like that again. Like you want me. And you do, don’t you?” He grins. “Now that I’m touching this cute pearl…” His words bring tears to your eyes, or maybe it’s his touch–you can’t tell the difference.

His thumb begins to rub slow circles around your clit, the pressure increasing your pleasure with every touch.

“Mahito.” Your voice is a soft keen. You don’t even mean to obey his order, it’s entirely instinctive. He’s making you feel good and you should say his name.

“The book said that not all women can orgasm without different types of stimulation, too, so..."

He leans his head closer, and you're only barely aware of what he's doing before his tongue licks a long stripe that ends with wiggling his tongue tip around your clit.

“Oh--”

He shifts gears, then, lapping at you slowly yet firmly.

You throw back your head and let out a series of keening grunts. It’s not enough to get off, not yet, not when you went from completely untouched to being lapped at like a bowl of milk, but…

“This is better, huh?” His words are practically spoken into your pussy, and you can feel the way some of your wetness clings to his lips as he speaks. “I still want to have my fun, but you should have fun too, shouldn’t you?” Again, you can’t quite tell if he’s asking you or simply affirming it to himself.

It doesn’t matter, because all you can really focus on is his tongue, and the way the digit begins to swirl around your clit, applying more pressure.

“Yes,” you breathe out, moaning. Your fingers clench the sheets. “More--like that, like that, please, oh please.”

Mahito presses a chaste kiss to your swelling clit. “Are all human women so polite when you lick them here? Or just you?” Heat burns your cheeks. But he doesn’t need an answer, and in a moment you feel his tongue on you again, tracing firmer patterns, providing just the right pressure for a warm tension to grow perfectly right.

Your head turns from side to side--you want it, you don’t, you do--as the tension between your legs builds and builds until it finally snaps and floods your senses with red hot sparks. Your legs kick out helplessly, and your breathy moans are almost bewildered.

Mahito keeps licking, soft little laps, until your body relaxes and you begin to come down from the high. Gradually your heart rate slows, gradually you realize exactly what happened.

He waits until you look at him to speak.

“You looked absolutely ridiculous like that, did you know?”

His grinning mouth glistens with your wetness. Heat flushes from your chest to your face at the sight of it--and the way his words make your stomach twist in shame.

“But don’t worry, I like it. I want to see that face again…”

You don’t have time to do more than whimper as he lowers himself back down between your legs. He licks his lips grotesquely, his tongue stretching until he’s lapped up every bit of you clinging to his mouth, before he returns his tongue to your clit.

This time, the pleasure is mingled with a vague over-stimulation that makes you let out little keening whimpers every time he presses harder with his tongue. Sweat beads on your forehead and your back stretches as you grind yourself down towards him, wanting more despite how strange it feels.

It’s so much… but it still feels good, and if anything, you reach your peak faster now that you (and Mahito) have had a taste of it. The second orgasm hits harder, and you gasp with your mouth strained open as your back arches so far you’re worried it might pull out.

But he’s not done.

He’s not done, because his fingers are back on your clit even before you get time to catch your breath, pinching it firmly enough to make you squeal.

“Not again,” you groan, half-whining. “I can’t--oh, I can’t, please, Mahito, Mahito--it’s too much.”

Mahito hums, and positions himself until he’s looming over you, his fingers still working your clit as your legs kick and your hips try to twitch out of his reach. His other hand--it must be a third one, because his palm goes to rest on your cheek--pins your hip down with ease. There will be bruises later.

Mahito leans down close to your ear. His cool breath almost snaps you to reality, but then his finger is rubbing your clit back and forth, stimulating the bundle of nerves until you swear you see sparks behind your eyes.

“Try,” he murmurs in your ear, all cold honey and poison. “Try for me, won’t you? Since you’re being so good for me?”

It hurts, but it feels good. It’s too much, but you want more. You feel ashamed, but you don’t care.

You murmur something soft and pitiful, something like assent, and his eyes widen as he thrusts a finger inside you to aid with the stimulation of your clit.

You grunt, primal in your pleasure, as he doesn’t let up the stimulation until the painfully good feeling in your clit tightens to the point of release. It’s like someone has pulled a string running from your belly to your clit as taught as possible and let it go--there’s relief and pleasure and discomfort all rolled into one overwhelming experience. Your legs and thighs shake wildly as you clench around his finger, and Mahito’s third hand releases your held hip. He leans back and watches you from head to toe, taking it all in, committing it to memory.

As you come down from the overstimulated high, you feel his finger pull out just before he leans down and presses a wet, hungry kiss to your mouth. You don’t need to be forced to open your mouth this time, gasping as his tongue--thankfully the normal size--swirls around yours.

You murmur something into his mouth, unprovoked, not even realizing that it’s coming out until he pulls back and asks you to repeat yourself without his tongue in the way.

“Thank you,” you repeat. Your voice is soft and meek and God help you, grateful. Sexual experiences with Mahito never felt like this. Especially not twice. Especially not three times, over-stimulation notwithstanding.

Mahito’s thumb trails across your lower lip. He opens his mouth, but whatever he said is retracted as he closes it again. He presses a sloppy smooch to your nose and pulls back, all energy, all excitement.

“Now it’s my turn for fun, okay?” He’s grinning, and the exuberance is almost contagious as you find yourself letting out a short, startled little laugh at his sudden change.

He glances down at you, and the soft, curious expression he wore when he first met you is there on his face. It’s smoothed over in a moment, replaced with a grin. Replaced with his hands spreading your thighs even wider, and his fingers pushing his trousers down until his erect cock is right in view.

If you were thinking and not caught in a brain fog from your triple orgasms, the physical and mental turmoil that they took, the reappearance of that curious expression might give you pause. Might make you think. Might make you wonder about why he made it, and what he’s thinking, and what it means for you.

But all you can think about is whether or not Mahito will try to make you come for a fourth (and a fifth? And a--) time while his cock is sheathed inside you. All you can think about is how good his cock might feel this time, with your pussy wet from multiple orgasms and your nerves tingling and stimulated.

There will be bruises, afterward. There are always bruises, with Mahito. Sometimes ones you can’t even see. This time will be no different, in that respect.

But this time, the memory of his wrists gripping yours or his mouth biting bruises into your neck will be mingled with the way your back arched and toes curled and the sight of Mahito's face, glistening with your pleasure on his lips.

#yandere mahito #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #mahito x reader #yandere #afterwitch writes

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paradlselost · 3 months

Note

i am so glad im finding another person who writes for far cry :)) if possible, can we see a jacob seed x gn!deputy who replaces pratt as his prisoner? it ends with jacob being their one and only, (even if its dubcon)

WIND — UP TOY

jacob seed x gn!deputy

⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ ty for being my first submission ! jacob and his region lowkey scare the shit out of me lmao 🙏 kinda a little fucked up but I mean it’s jacob seed . also sorry this took so long ); smut below the cut

no use of y/n , reader is referred to as ‘ deputy ’ . gender specific nicknames are replaced by ‘ pup ’ . not beta - read

⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ blasphemy , deputy is treated like a dog , implied forced cannibalism , implied death of a minor character , brainwashing , jacobs his own warning isn’t he ? smut : dub - con , degrading , oral ( m receiving ) , soft - ish sex , penetration , dacryphillia , one - sided orgasm .

It always crept up on him when he least expected it; when things began to have a sense of normalcy. His days a haze and his nights clouded with gunfire and explosions, dreams marred with blood and the guts of former comrades and men who died far too young. For what?

What is the American dream when the world is going to end anyways? What are the soldiers overseas fighting for when the rivers will soon flow with blood and the ground tarred with ash?

His hand runs over his face; rubbing tired eyes. Demons of his past prey on him while he sleeps, turning him weak. Two to three hours is good enough for him, leaves him rested enough for his eyes to focus on the maps in front of him.

Being the leader of the army of Eden’s Gate wasn’t an easy job, though he held it with pride - a cardinal sin - but Joseph would forgive him as long as the prophecies his little brother had bouncing around his head came true. Jacob didn’t know if he believed in anything, really, it was hard to imagine God was with the soldiers that clutched cross pendants behind HESCO barriers.

But where he might’ve drifted from the true meaning of the cause further and further, where he might’ve argued the existence of a higher power with Joseph; one thing grounded him to his purpose and place in the cult. The Deputy.

Joseph’s ramblings were insane to the layman and gospel to the believer - but it seemed right now they were damn prophetic. Everything he said the Deputy would do; they did, and left bodies in their wake. Sometimes, he would watch whatever the cameras picked up of them on his screens, how they traversed the Whitetails with an almost practiced knowledge.

Sometimes, he felt like the eighteen year old new enlistee again when he watched them. The blood, the gunfire. Jacob Seed was a tough man, righteous and brave, but he would look down at them in their cage and feel the fire on his skin from the ranch he burned all those years ago.

He hated the feeling, wanting to drive his pocket knife into his chest and carve out every semblance of memory he had. But then his music box would rewind, and he would hear the sweet sound of the Platters crooning through the wood and metal and maybe, just maybe, things would be okay for him.

So he watched the way the Deputy writhe behind those thick steel bars against the cold soil, not afforded the luxuries even the most depraved prisoners received. Weak and idiotic for attempting to save their friend; but a mind that could be molded with the right tune.

Staci Pratt was a good pet; Pavlovian in nature and willing to do anything for the oldest Seed brother, so maybe that’s why Jacob began to grow bored of the man. Maybe that’s why he entertained the cracks beginning to show in the conditioning, how Pratt’s eyes softened at the sight of their co-worker being taunted by the Herald and yet knowing there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

An escape plan, of course he knew about it, he had eyes and ears everywhere and could always tell when one of his dogs stepped out of line. A perfectly timed truck, the siren going off to alert that a prisoner had escaped, catching Pratt as he allowed the Deputy to leave without him. It was almost sweet, but moreover vomit-inducing, like a lamb.

Sheep are creatures controlled by their own nature, that’s why dogs have to herd them back into formation - like a general in charge of new recruits. Intolerables are discharged, lambs are taken to the slaughterhouse. Nature, the circle of life, the bad meat is thrown out for the poor and needy to pick through.

“Eat. You wouldn’t want to fall sick, would you?”

A tin was placed in front of the Deputy, they had been through this before. Starved for however many days Jacob deemed necessary - usually ten - before they are given nothing but raw meat to eat. Never did they think they would yearn for the peanuts and beer served at the Spread Eagle, but there was no position to argue about what they were being given here.

Some fell over the side as greedy hands shoveled clump after clump into their mouth, covering it in a pitiful yet successful attempt to keep it down. Never did they ask what kind of meat it was, choosing to instead assume it was from one of the many cow farms in the valley.

“You’re hungry, aren’t ya, pup? You’re lucky, that’s a nice cut of meat.” A grin played on his face as he leaned against the metal bars, fingers grazing over his music box. There wouldn’t be any culling today, no, he had a much better idea in mind.

“Where’s Pratt?”

“Not even a thank you for my generosity, aren’t you fierce?”

“Where is he?”

“Peaches’s little act of rebellion earned him a punishment, I mean; that’s only fair. In a war like this you can’t go sympathizing with the devil, no matter how well you knew them before.”

It’s not an answer, but there’s an unspoken understanding that that is the closest thing the Deputy will get to knowing. A huff falling from their lips, ever the ungrateful dog; but their bowl is licked clean and what more can Jacob ask for?

A soft tsk fell from his lips, cold and condescending because how could he be anything but? Did the thing below him deserve care and kindness? Maybe at some point when they were strong, when their mind was still their own, but now they were nothing but a lamb being fattened for the slaughter.

His fingers grasped their chin, forcing eye contact and no doubt leaving marks that would form bruises. How much had they been through? Chest slashed with the markings from Jacobs little brother and mind already foggy from the bliss that grew in the Henbane; but there was a certain pride he took in being the one to break them.

How much time had passed? Had anyone come looking for them? Jacob had often taunted them, used the fact that they were immobile against the conditioning he had given them to contact anyone. The rebellion would fall without their snake, maybe it already had, how would the Deputy know?

It wasn’t their place to think anymore, to simply let the oldest Herald put a leash around their neck and sit beside like a good dog. Their mind wasn’t their own, now it belonged to him and they had no room to complain.

“Look at’chu, open your mouth.” But he didn’t wait for them to comply, instead he bullied his fingers against their tongue, exploring over their gums and teeth. They could bite him, certainly, but they didn’t - wouldn’t.

Who was Jacob Seed but their owner? He had saved them from themselves, from the blood and the gore and the fire that threatened to burn the world to nothing but ashes. Joseph had greeted them in their new form, John had shown up to pout, but their eyes only ever stayed on the eldest.

“Such a good pup, ‘ did a wonderful job training you, huh?” He asked as if they could answer, as if they weren’t preoccupied by the fingers that traced their mouth like he was mapping them out.

A hum passed from his lips as he removed his fingers, instead moving to undo the buckle on his belt. Even in this state, the Deputy wasn’t stupid and could very clearly tell what was coming next. So, to hopefully avoid any wrath from him, moved to help undo his pants.

Leaning back in his chair and observing as they removed his pants, fingers trailing over the growing bulge in his boxers. Jacob was a stoic man, never did the Deputy know if they were really doing good, but he didn’t scold them so there was no stopping.

Hands smoothed out the black fabric a bit nervously, playing with the hem for a moment before a soft grunt from the Herald alerted them. Knowingly, their fingers hooked underneath the waistband and pulled it away from his freckled skin, letting it pool at his ankles along with his pants.

Wrapping around the base of his still hardening cock, their eyes fluttered up to meet his gray ones. A silent beg, a plea that they were doing alright and there would be no punishment later. All they got in return was a small nod; though there was no love or care behind it. More like a drill sergeant instructing a particularly moldable soldier.

Gentle, unsure licks placed against his tip, hand working against the base; fingers brushing against veins that worked overtime to pump blood to his dick. Jacob Seed was not one for taking his sweet time, his fingers tangled in their hair as he pushed their head down on his aching cock.

A soft gag fell from their lips, hands moving from him to settle on his toned thighs. A heavy breath leaving their nose as they tried their hardest to relax, nuzzling against his untamed ginger hair. He relished in the warmth of their throat, the tightness eliciting a groan as he pushed his hips up.

Their gagging was the sweetest sound he had ever heard, the soft whimpers and tears that emitted from the Deputy as they tried their hardest to just breathe through their nose. He loved the power he held over them, how those pretty tears fell for him.

“Cmon pup, look up at me.”

Fighting between lifting their head to meet his gaze and keeping their mouth wrapped around his cock, the Deputy managed to tilt their head up enough to see him. His smirk widened, cock throbbing against their throat as he watched the tears continue to fall from them.

Another few thrusts to the back of their throat before he groaned, pulling their head off his dick with a small ‘pop’. A trail of saliva still connected their lips, pre-cum mixed in with it. He couldn’t help the laugh that emitted from him at the sight of their swollen lips and heavy breathing.

“Poor thing. Don’t cry, I take care of you, don’t I?”

The Deputy couldn’t do anything but nod, and maybe it was a bit true. Jacob did care for them in his own sick and twisted way. In the back of their mind they wondered if this was how he treated Pratt behind close doors; more like a prized trophy than a lover.

His hands grabbed at their hips, pulling them onto his lap. The small barrier of whatever clothes they had been wearing on their lower half before was quickly removed, giving him access to everything he wanted.

Burying their face into the crook of his neck and wrapping arms around the back of him, the Herald lifted their hips once more to guide himself inside their needy hole before pushing them down onto him. Stretching, pain emanating from the sudden intrusion, he could feel the tears that fell from them and landed against his skin.

He cooed, a grin still wide on his face. His hands still settled on their hips, guiding them up and down on his cock. Gentle movements at first that quickly devolved to an almost feral extent. His pre-cum marred the inside of their hole, creating wet and sticky sounds everytime he fucked in and out of them.

It felt like a dam was about to break by the time Jacob decided he was finished. Loud sobs wracked their body as they cuddled closer to him, so close yet so far. His hips continued to move for a moment; stuttering and shifting a bit before he released inside of them, filling them with his cum.

The Deputy finally leaned back after a moment, tears still flowing from their now red eyes, sniffling - but they still attempted to move their hips over him. To get any kind of release as the Herald caught his breath. Needily grinding against his lap, hands clutching his shirt in a pitiful attempt that only made him laugh more.

“Oh, look at’chu. Pup needs to get off too, huh? Don’t worry, I told you I’ll take care of you.”

#far cry 5 #jacob seed #jacob seed x deputy #smut #gn reader #jacob seed x reader

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xzaddyzanakinx · 11 months

Text

| A Gift | part two

Anakin Skywalker x Female Reader

MDNI 18+

Warnings: aggression, crude behavior, dominant Anakin, daddy kink, unprotected PinV, choking, inappropriate use of The Force, breeding kink if you squint, cockwarming if you squint and tilt your head

Info: Unburned Anakin, angry Anakin, established relationship, wife/husband, death, not proofread

Anakin POV

My mind was clouded and I was being pulled by The Force to intrude on her thoughts, there must be an explanation to the ridiculous amount of goosebumps that had spread over my skin. I reached out, tendrils of thought probing the universe in search of my love.

Finally, warmth flooded me, her pinkish aura surrounding me, but there was something else. This wasn’t her typical Force signature, there was a droning noise, as if she were exerting a mild amount of energy. It felt familiar but out of place.

I pushed farther, deciding the surface wasn’t deep enough, I needed specifics, a live feed of her thoughts. I poked and prodded through my minds eye until she relented and allowed me access, once the barrier fell I could sense an overwhelming feeling of pent up desire.

“What is this? What are you doing?” I demanded, my voice reverberated around the confines of her mind.

“Fucking myself since you won’t.” She retorted, quickly gnawing away at the fragile cord tethering our minds together, and in my shocked state I was in to shape to reinforce it.

The connection fell away and heat rose in my cheeks, rage flowing through me I threw up my left hand. An chair lifted from the ground and hovered in front of me while in groaned and creaked under the pressure of The Force. With a loud -crack- the metal pieces bent and crumpled in on themselves, only to be forcefully pushed in the direction of the door opening.

“Sir! The Senator is awake, would you like to speak with him now?” A general with a meek manner popped his head into the room.

“Fine.” I pushed past him, walking into a conference room turned interrogation chamber.

The general closed the door behind me as I watched the senator groggily blink as his eyes focused on the dark eyes of my mask.

As I stood here in the middle of an important meeting with a senator I was attempting to secure as another dependent of The Empire, a buzzing followed by a chirp sounded on my commlink bracelet, indicating I had a video message on my handheld.

“One moment Senator, take this time to consider your options.” I nodded at him, standing up from my chair and giving his bound hand alittle tap as he mumbled in agreement.

I walked out into the hallway, retreating to a private room. As I shut the door and locked it I realized the message was from -her-. My Sweet. The disc whizzed to life as it flickered while projecting the image in my palm.

I watched her curvy figure slink into view, her voice silken and teasing. She had always had a penchant for the dramatics and I reveled in her beauty as she put on her little show. This must be what she meant, my precious girl was only trying to cheer me up. I smiled hearing her playfully tell me she had something for me.

Eager to see what she’d chosen I sat down and laid the disc before me to enlarge the image. She returned with a red box, her slender fingers deftly untying her neat bow. With the lid tossed aside she reached into the box, pulling out a black mass, no… a helmet. She pulled it over her head, masking her beautiful face.

She was always so thoughtful, she’d had a brand new helmet made for me. I felt the soldered seams on my current mask with gloved fingers, grateful for her sentiment. My hand fell to my thigh quickly when she removed the helmet and walked with purpose to the bed. Spreading her legs and positioning herself over the mask.

“Just think, this could be you under me.” She lowered herself testing the waters with a gentle buck of the hips across the ridges of the new mask.

A slow burning anger seeped into my bones. It was one thing for her to pleasure herself with my permission. It was completely different when her selfish desires spilled over into the territory of disrespect. I ripped off my crudely restored mask to get a better look.

“Oh, Vader!”

What did she just say?

I tapped the disc twice and replayed that clip only to discover she did indeed utter my Sith name. I pounded my fist on the table, shaking the holographic image of her writhing form.

She mumbled incoherent nonsense between broken gasps and waves of unspeakable moments. Though one particular string of words jumped out at me, it was punctuated by the violent glare of dissatisfaction in her eyes. This was purposeful and what she would say next would surely be unpleasant to hear.

“Gonna make me cum quicker than you can!”

She squealed her voice shaking and legs stiffening around the helmet as she feverishly chased release.

Her face contorted, this was the moment I was intruding into the deeper confines of her brain, I could see the self pride she had about her disrespectful act flash across her reddened face as she concentrated to send a thought back to me.

Suddenly her orgasm crashed around her, I could hear the gushing of her slick on the creases and crevices of the mask. Her juices coating every inch of the maker-forbidden metal and plastic heap of shit between her legs. She came to the thought that she had upset me, she had pleasured herself by blatantly disrespecting my image and my position as her loving husband.

Unacceptable.

The disc flew into my metal hand and I crushed it easily, the pieces falling to my feet. A swift 180 on my heels pointed me to the door, on my journey to my TIE Fighter for a quick visit back home. I angrily snapped my helmet back into place before walking out the door.

Passing the room where the Senator was restrained I nodded to the guards.

“Take him to his cell.” I commanded and they quickly stumbled to follow their orders.

The determination in my steps parted the traffic in the hall much quicker than ever before. Once I reach the hangar my TIE is waiting for me front and center. A poor excuse for a commander attempted to intercept my departure, asking where I was going and did I need assistance. I answered by swiftly sending him into the durasteel wall with a sickening thump.

The engine roared to life and the moment it was primed and ready I took off at light speed, jumping into hyperspace just outside the hangar doors. Minutes later I was jostled around in the cockpit by the power behind the drop from hyperspace. My home the Death Star, my wife, my prized possession loomed in the near distance.

The tension was palpable even despite the distance to the docking bay. I could feel her annoyance and anger radiating off the Death Star. I was furious too, each parsec that passed was one too many, my metal appendage was creaking under the pressure of my grip on the controls.

Finally I breached the shields and landed in the docking bay, scarcely waiting for the TIE to fully power down before I jumped out of the cockpit.

“You!” I pointed to the nearest person, an engineer.

“Where is she?” I demanded, the fury evident in my voice.

The engineer had stood up in complete stillness spare the shaking of his hands at his sides.

“The Empress stationed a Trooper at your podium with strict orders to await your arrival.”

He pointed warily up at the metal loft where a trooper stood guarding… the helmet.

My footsteps echoed in the silence of the hangar. All work had stopped in my presence. Each person watched in silent fear as I made my way up the metal stair case with a heavy stride.

My hand shot out, pushing the trooper back from the podium and against the cold durasteel wall and pinning his arms outstretched at his sides. I snapped his neck to the side with a sickening crunch and he let out a whimper of pain. My leather glove touching the lip mark on the white backdrop of his helmet, streaking the color downwards.

I let him fall to the floor in a sputtering heap and swiftly turned and grabbed the helmet to tuck under my arm as I walked toward our quarters.

“Dispose of him.” I shouted, not looking back but hearing the shuffling of movement as I entered the hall.

With a wave of my fingertips the double doors leading to my personal quarters flew open and I marched in. Locking the doors behind me and tossing my cape and old helmet aside. The new one, fresh and shiny, and covered in her dried arousal rested in my hand.

“Where are you?” I shouted, heading toward our bedroom.

With no response I barged into our room, finding her naked and sprawled across the sheets before me.

“It’s about time.” You quipped, batting your eyelashes sweetly.

“Do you like it? Nice huh?” You grinned, loving the way his upper lip twitched in annoyance.

“You tore me away from very important business.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Oops.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“You little-“ he cut himself off grabbing your ankles and yanking you to the edge of the bed.

The swift movement made you squeal in surprise, mouth open in anticipation due to the hunger in his eyes.

“Such a whore that you had to do this?” He shook the helmet in your face.

He grabbed your chin with his flesh hand, his glove cold on your skin. He squeezed your cheeks to pry open your mouth. A sick smile twisting his lips when he heard your gasp of surprise.

“Clean it.” He demanded, giving you no room for argument.

He guided your mouth to the ridges and crevices of the cool plasteel, keeping your mouth forced open with enough pressure to make your eyes water. He watched with a glare as you licked every bit of your mess away. Once he was satisfied he dropped your jaw and your head fell back into the mattress.

“I should leave you here. Wet and needy.” He scowled, his wide pupils scanning your curves.

“You don’t deserve me after this stunt you pulled.” He scoffed, angered by your lack of response.

Each second his temper grew, your arousal did as well. You could feel a pool of wetness gathering between your legs and you clamped your thighs closed, hoping he wouldn’t see, but knowing it was futile.

He didn’t move a muscle, just sending a wave of The Force over your thighs to wrench them apart. He stepped forward, plucking off both of his gloves. He stopped just short of the edge of the bed where your legs were quivering in a Force hold. He turned and you thought he would toss his gloves aside, but he had other plans.

One large black leather glove came down on your damp cunt with a loud smack, sending a white hot streak of lighting up your spine and straight to your throat. A scream of pain left your lips as your face reddened, breathing heavily, tears collecting in your eyes.

“Look at me!” He demanded, bringing the glove coated in your slick down on your cheek.

It was embarrassing, disgusting, and thrilling. You couldn’t help but feel ashamed that you enjoyed this harsh punishment so much. Your pussy gushing again as a new wave of pain flooded your mind. You let your eyes meet his, his pupils wide as saucers, drinking in every minuscule reaction you gave him.

“You’re going to lay here. Take what I give you, with no complaints m’kay?” He quickly disrobed, standing before you he languidly stroked his rock hard cock.

You feverishly nodded your head, trying to move your arms and quickly realizing your wrists had been glued to the bed just as your legs were. Anakin let out a cruel laugh, watching you struggle.

He approached you at a snails pace, his hands gliding across your thighs and up your stomach. His metal fingers clamping tightly around your left nipple, stretching and pulling it roughly. His flesh hand grazed your neck, his thumb brushing against your jaw tenderly.

It was a moment shared between you, his no-nonsense attitude paused to make sure you were ready for your punishment. You gave a tiny silent nod and he smirked, immediately gripping the sides of your throat and forcing his throbbing member deep into your cunt.

The lewd squelch that echoed in the room made Anakin falter, relishing in the knowledge that he had done this to you. He had made you this wet, he was in control, he could give and take from you what he wished.

You whimpered at the burning stretch around his cock, he gave you no time to adjust, simply beginning his ruthless assault. His hips snapping against your inner thighs as he anchored himself to you with both hands on your hips.

Your eyes unfocused, your breathing unsteady as he pounded into you. You were completely helpless, unable to move, unable to deny how much you loved this. You moaned in a deep guttural way that made Anakin’s dick twitch.

“Dirty bitch.” He laughed. “You like being my fuck toy?”

“Uh huh.” You whined, getting a sneer in response.

“Pathetic.” He leaned over you, hovering above your breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth, flicking the hard bud with his tongue to elicit another groan from deep within your chest.

He pulled back, a wild fire in his eyes as he lifted your hips slightly off the bed to change the angle. Allowing him to rut into you deeper than before, you could almost see his cock moving in your belly and the thought of it made you clench around him.

His breath stuttered, his expression faltering at the feeling of you.

“You should be ashamed.” He shouted, rearing back to slap you with his bare hand.

The sickening smack brought the tears welling in your eyes down your cheeks as you let out a choked sob.

“What would your people say if they knew you liked this? If they knew their Empress was a cockslut?” He laughed, reveling in your speechlessness.

“Answer me!” He yelled, “let them hear you. Wanna hear you.”

“T-they’d be ashamed of m-me!” You shouted back.

“That’s right.” He sneered.

Anakin released his hold on your hip with his metal hand, leaving deep indentations in their wake. The warmed metal brushed your clit and you jolted at the new sensation. Your cunt already throbbing and raw from the relentless pounding of his hips. He snickered as you shuddered and tried to back away.

“Now, now. This is what you wanted isn’t it?” His voice condescending and cruel.

His metal thumb flicked over your swollen clit at an inhuman rate, releasing an equally inhuman screech from deep within your chest.

“Fuck!” You screamed, your bound hands searching for something, anything to grab onto.

Without missing a single stroke his other hand left your hip and you were held in place solely by The Force as he fucked you. His flesh palm pressing down into your stomach, his eyes rolling back in his head at the added sensation.

“Feel that? Feel daddy’s cock in you?” He grunted through clenched teeth.

You whined in a reedy response, too out of it to speak as your orgasm quickly approached.

“Yeah? You close baby?” He asked sweetly, his demeanor shifting from domineering to caring.

He cooed as you nodded, your face tearstained and red.

“Oh sweet girl. Doing so good taking my cock like this.” Anakin stared down at you, watching your tits bounce in tandem.

“Wanna hear you ask for it.” He breathed heavily, hips snapping at an erratic pace.

“Pl-“ you gasped, the tight coil already beginning to unravel. “No! Don’t please. Please don’t stop.”

He grinned, loving the way your voice broke halfway through your pleas.

“It’s okay baby. Give it to me, cum for daddy.”

He watched in awe as your back arched, your mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Your fists so tightly clenched that your nails dug into the skin. He released his Force hold on your arms and leaned forward, you instinctively threw your arms around his shoulders as he pushed your legs up. Your knees nearly touching your ears as his strong hands kept them in place.

“You ready?” He panted, a bead of sweat dripping from his nose down onto your lips, you eagerly nodded and licked the salty droplet from your bottom lip.

“Gonna fill you up,” he groaned, loosing control quickly. “Fuck you full babygirl.”

His forehead dropping down to yours, his hot breath fanning across your face as he scrunched up his eyebrows in concentration.

“Su-such a pretty pussy.” he whimpered, voice getting quieter as his legs began to shake.

“That’s it baby, take me.” He groaned, his hips flush with yours as he pumped rope after rope of cum deep into your cunt.

“C’mere.” He whispered, cradling your head in his hands to give you a passionate and slow kiss, massaging his tongue with yours, taking it between his lips to suck it gently.

You bucked your hips unintentionally from overstimulation when his cock began to soften slightly. He chuckled, a sparkle in his eyes.

“You think I’m done with you?” He asked, holding you close to his chest, both arms under you possessively.

His lips brushed your ear, “Not even close.”

Tag List:

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@burnthecheshirewitch

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@star611

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@jellydodger

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed!

#anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #sw anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x you #darth vader #darth vader smut #suitless vader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #starwars fandom #anakin x fem reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fanfiction

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nikethestatue · 4 months

Text

A Ballad of Sorrow and Love

End of Elriel Month 2024 and end of the story.

TW: death, I guess.

Part III

Lovely Fawn

Despite Rhysand’s not so subtle objections, Azriel decided to attend the reception with the Vallahan dignitaries. Elain didn’t protest either, so he concluded that it would be appropriate for him to make an appearance. Not that he necessarily wanted to, however, he was the Prince of Hewn City, and his title obligated him to do things which he didn’t always enjoy–like attending boring parties. At least in Hewn City, he could fuck Elain in front of the Court, if he so desired. She wouldn’t say no, and it certainly made receptions a lot more interesting and enjoyable. No such pleasure in Night Court.

Today, Elain dressed in a black dress that was little more than gossamer, which wrapped around her voluptuous body like second skin. It glittered with sequins and strategically placed black flowers, which covered her breasts and her bottom. A smattering of extra sparkles was all that concealed her front. A long train slithered on the floor with every step that she took. Elain liked pearls–a stone of mourning and innocence, of fertility and purity, of perfection and romance–and wrapped many strands around her neck and her wrists.

“A crown for my Princess,” Azriel announced, opening up a heavy wooden box.

Elain smiled and peered inside. It was the Black Peregrine Crown tonight then. One of her favourites. A heavy, imposing crown made of black and white diamonds, studded with black and white pearls, tourmalines and opals. Azriel lifted the crown from its velvet nest and then gently placed it on Elain’s golden head.

“Perfect,” he whispered when she straightened and he could observe her in all her glory. “You are so fucking beautiful, Elain. So beautiful.”

They stepped out on the terrace and Azriel opened his arms, allowing Elain to slip into his embrace. He lifted her easily off the ground and as she wrapped her arms around his neck, he spread his wings and shot up into the air. She threw a shield over them, so that the wind didn’t mess up her hair and once they crossed the enchanted barrier that surrounded the palace, the weather became less than pleasant, with heavy rain pelting the ground and bouncing off the air shield. “Thanks, smart girl!” Azriel chuckled, grateful for the shield and then kissed her.

Rhysand, the High Lord of Night Court sat in his chair, which wasn’t quite a throne, but also wasn’t just a simple chair. It was long, made for two, for him and for Feyre, his High Lady, to sit beside him. He didn’t feel the need to greet his guests on a throne–this wasn’t going to be a show of power and his High Lord’s might. The relationship between his Court and Vallahan was friendly enough. Although now, after what Azriel had uncovered about Eris and Lucien, Rhysand didn’t know who to trust. And whether he could ever let his guard down the way he did with the Vanserra brothers. This thing pressed on him and he wasn’t at his best. Feyre flitted around the reception room, greeting and welcoming the guests, and even Nesta helped out, doing a passable impression of being interested.

“Are you alright?” Feyre whispered, when she finally extricated herself for a moment and approached him. She looked lovely, dressed in a pale pearl gown with a halter top, which was tied in the back into a large bow and then flowed into a fluttering train of silk.

“All good, Feyre darling,” he smiled at her and kissed her hand.

Then, his eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. Seeing the change in his expression, Feyre turned her head and before she could say anything, Rhys hissed, “what is he doing here? I requested that he not come!”

Her arms crossed on her chest, Nesta Archeron, stately and cool, stepped behind him and said, “He has just as much right to be here as you do. You are a High Lord of your Court and he is a Prince of his.”

“This is my Court,” Rhys cut her off, “and my request.”

Nesta shrugged in her usual nonchalant way, not giving him any leeway.

“She is right, you know,” Feyre agreed, eyeing her mate with displeasure.

“Don’t gang up on me,” he ordered. “Because you both know that I am right. He makes things uncomfortable. He is barely lucid as it is…”

“Lucid enough to have uncovered a massive conspiracy that spans the continent,” Nesta noted meaningfully.

Rhys shook his head and insisted, “these types of events are inadvisable for him.”

“Elain is with him,” Nesta said calmly. “She will keep him in line.”

“Az!” she then called, waving her arm at him. “How are you? It’s nice to see you. We weren’t sure you’d come tonight.”

She walked to him and then embraced him, before saying, “good evening Ellie-girl!”

Feyre joined them soon after and greeted Azriel with a wide smile.

“Are you treating my sister well?” she joked.

Azriel pulled Elain to his side and draped his arm over her shoulders, before pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Always,” he said. Elain nodded.

“What are you wearing today?” Feyre whispered and then said, “The Black Peregrine!”

Azriel’s eyes wandered to his High Lord and he saw that Rhys was scowling in his direction–not that it was a very unusual reaction. The brothers didn’t see eye to eye most of the time.

Rhys would’ve wanted to pull the Court of Nightmares back under his control, but the divine Power wouldn’t allow him too, refusing to budge away from Azriel.

“Uncle Az!” He heard a lovely familiar voice and turned around, smiling.

His beautiful niece Elena hurried toward him, a pretty pink gown with black flowers accentuating her incredible loveliness. It always amused him how Cassian’s and Nesta’s daughter looked so much like Elain. Same golden brown curls, same big dark round eyes, same shy smile.

“My pretty girl, I am so happy to see you here tonight!” he exclaimed, taking her into his arms and embracing her tightly.

“Uncle Rhys wanted me to be here,” she explained, “though he told me that you wouldn’t be coming,” she frowned at that.

Azriel shrugged, “He never wants me to come,”

“Ahhh,” she sighed sadly. “I so wish you’d patch things up with him! He is not being very fair to you.”

“It’s been like that for years,” Azriel said, “I suppose I am used to it by now,”

She stomped her little foot and said, “Well, it isn’t fair! And you shouldn’t accept it.”

He smiled at her, again, reminded of Elain –even that little pout was all Elain.

He flicked the top of her arched ear and said, “You look like your aunt!”

“Pfff, everyone says that!” then she glanced at the clock and said, “oh, I have to run, Uncle,”

“Where are you going?”

She rolled her eyes, “Nyx and myself and Kira and Zoya (Nesta and Cassain’s other daughters) are expected to go and entertain the ambassadors’ children. At least they are our age!”

Azriel smiled and kissed her forehead. “You better join us for dinner then.”

“We will!” she blew him a kiss and hurried away.

Before the ambassadors entered the reception hall, Rhys released a bit of his power, so it thrummed in the air, filling the space and making all who were present pay attention. Feyre took her seat at his side. Then it was Azriel, who held the highest rank behind the High Lord and Lady. He sat in a chair, with Elain beside him, and wrapped his arm around her. He was glad of it too, because he was too fucking old to be standing around, greeting ambassadors and emissaries. That was a job for the kids like Elena and Nyx. They had the energy. And Cassian too, apparently, because he stood behind Nesta’s seat, legs apart, hand on his sword. Hopefully, there wasn’t going to be a need for all that tonight.

The six ambassadors and their entourage arrived soon after and Rhysand rose from his chair in a gesture of good will, greeting them.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice loud and melodious, created to put visitors at ease.

The males and two females bowed, and Rhys began the introductions.

“My mate, the High Lady of Night Court, Feyre Archeron.”

Feyre smiled and inclined her head at the guests.

Rhys continued, bypassing Azriel, though he was supposed to have been next,

“General Nesta Archeron, Cauldron Made, leader of the Valkyrie armies.”

Nesta greeted them politely, her back straight, her face placid.

“Cassian, Commander General of the Night Court.”

Then he paused, and everyone’s gazes inevitably fell on Azriel.

“His Highness, Prince Azriel of Hewn City,” Rhys finally said with a sigh. “Commanding General of the Darkbringers, Lord of the Court of Nightmares.”

Azriel glared at Rhysand and while the others bowed and curtsied, he barked loudly,

“AND?”

At that, Feyre got up and walked to him, saying calmly,

“And Lady Elain Archeron of the Court of Nightmares, Princess of Hewn City, Cauldron Made.”

Everything stopped, the very air silent and tense.

The ambassadors stared at the High Lady, then at Azriel. And then at Nesta, who stood up and walked over as well, saying loudly ‘my sister’.

Only there was no one next to Prince Azriel.

He sat alone in his chair.

Because, as everyone knew, Princess Elain had died in childbirth 184 years ago.

His mind had fractured that day.

They didn’t know that Elain was carrying twins until it was too late. The girl, who was small, hid behind the boy for too long in their mother’s womb. Their heartbeats beat in unison, and even the most experienced healers didn’t notice a second baby. A wingless baby. A baby who survived, while her mother and brother died. A baby who was picked up by her uncle Cassian, while his wife and mate Nesta was mute and dumb from grief and his brother Azriel flew out of the birthing room, only to return forever changed. Cassian took the baby with him and named her Elena.

Whether Azriel knew that Elain was dead and had been dead for almost two centuries, Feyre did not know. He never indicated that he was aware. He never called Elain a ‘ghost’ or made it known that he knew that she was dead, but it was easier to pretend like she was alive.

No.

The three of them–Feyre, Rhys and Cassian–were quite sure that Azriel had lost his mind that day and consequently, Elain’s death simply never registered with him. When he’d returned from his flight that day, he seemed the same as he always was. No shadows whispering in his ears, no sadness in his eyes. He did seem to be conscious of the fact that the children weren’t born, but he and ‘Ellie’ sat down with Temal, his adopted son, and explained it to him. Temal wasn’t exactly a child by then, but a grown man and he understood that something had happened to his father when Elain had died. Ever since then, Temal has played along. Almost two hundred years later, it became…normal to him. That his father and the illusion of his mother lived together and ruled together. It somehow became ‘normal’ to all of them, except for Rhys. But Feyre and Cassian, and especially Nesta protected Azriel from Rhys.

Nesta wasn’t entirely lucid either. Feyre was sure that Nesta knew that Elain was dead, but she’d come to believe that Elain was always next to them–just like Azriel claimed.

Whether it was a hallucination or an illusion that Azriel’s traumatised mind had conjured, Feyre couldn’t know. But Azriel had lived with this version of Elain ever since that day, and never looked unhappy. He was never confused. He was never doubtful. The only time he displayed any agitation is when Rhys ‘forgot’ about Elain and acted like she wasn’t at Azriel’s side. In his mind, Azriel convinced himself that it was because Rhys didn’t want Elain to marry him, and therefore ignored her because of that. Otherwise, Azriel went about his life married to Elain.

In fact, Feyre believed that perhaps, Azriel and his Elain, were the happiest couple among all of them.

Nesta and Azriel talked to ‘Elain’, laughed with her, walked with her, and in Azriel’s case, lived with her. He lived with her as a man would with his wife–sleeping and eating with her, bathing and cooking, dancing and drinking, making love with her and going on missions together. He did everything with Elain. He was Elain’s husband for eternity, just like he promised her at their wedding. And she was with him, walking hand in hand, living into the promise that she’d made to him.

From what Feyre could gather, the only difference between how Nesta was with their sister, and how it was different from Azriel, was that Nesta couldn’t see Elain. But she always insisted that Elain spoke to her, and as unnerving as it was to hear, Feyre got used to Nesta saying ‘Elain told me…” or “Elain and I were talking and she said…” or “El and I were laughing the other day…” Nesta confided to Elain, cried to her, argued with her, got angry with her. She ‘invited’ Elain to her training, and even discussed military plans with her. Apparently Elain ‘played’ with Nesta’s girls, sang to them, and knew that Nesta was raising Elena.

At least Nesta seemed to have been aware that Elena was not her daughter, but Elain’s. Though they’d all agreed that it would be best for Azriel not to know about Elena and to preserve his fragile mind, they always treated Elena as Nesta and Cassian’s daughter and Azriel’s niece. It was, therefore, especially amusing, but also heartbreaking that Azriel and the girl were so close and that he loved her far more than any other of his nieces and nephews.

When Elain had passed on, they did not know what to do with the body. The little boy was lovely as well, handsome and strong–his father’s son. They could not very well bury her without Azriel’s consent. They certainly couldn’t cremate her either. The mere mention of Elain’s death had Nesta’s eyes glowing with silver flames, and when she unequivocally announced that Elain was not dead, they dared not argue with her.

So Elain and her son were laid in a glass coffin, both perfect and unblemished even in death, sealed within it, Elain’s immense power still seeping out of her and then brought to rest under the Prison. Beneath the roots of the mountain. Under Dusk Court.

“Princess Elain is happy to meet you,” Azriel said simply to the ambassadors.

Sometimes, Elain didn’t want to talk, and he didn’t pressure her.

Sometimes, she talked a lot and he loved listening to her. But there were days when she preferred to be quiet and it didn’t bother him at all. The two of them always understood each other perfectly well, even in silence. Before they became lovers, before they were married, Elain could always read him and his moods, she always knew what he was thinking and was aware of his reasons for his actions. Words were always somewhat superfluous to them.

Their Court knew that the Princess sometimes communicated through him, and they’d come to accept that. But Elain was usually especially quiet around Rhys. It was as if she knew that he didn’t approve of her and did not like her.

The Court. The Court of Nightmares had a mad ruler, who ruled them alongside his dead wife. A ruler who was fully convinced that she sat on the throne with him, that she attended balls with him, that she weighed on topics and disagreements that arose during open sessions, that she opined on judicial decisions. But because he was a good ruler despite his madness, the Court…accepted it. So what if the Princess wasn’t there in the flesh. Perhaps, she truly spoke through him and who were they to question whether their Prince actually saw her and communicated with her if she were alive.

“No sweetness, he is not angry that you came,” Azriel assured her, peering angrily at Rhysand. “Rhys is just stressed. Soon we’ll go to dinner and then I will dance with you.”

Elain smiled at him. And then she found her voice and asked, “you promise?”

“I promise. You are my princess. And I am your prince. And soon, we’ll go back to our dark kingdom and we’ll be home, amongst our people.”

“You promise?” she repeated.

“I do. I promise.”

“Forever.”

Epilogue

Seventeen years later

It took years to find him, but at last, he did.

Azriel looked down at the male cowering in the pews of the temple.

It was an oddly cathartic moment, he couldn’t deny it.

Azriel and Lucien, forever locked in a silent battle, all because the Cauldron gave Elain to the wrong man. A lifetime of animosity, and the desire to correct a divine mistake.

“Azriel,” Lucien straightened and looked at his nemesis with his one eye.

“Lucien,” Azriel offered a curt nod.

“How did you find me?”

Azriel smirked.

“Well, if not me, then who?”

“I guess that’s true.”

Sighing heavily, Lucien looked down at the stone floor and wondered,

“So, now what? You finally get to kill me. And you’ll bring the traitor’s head to Rhysand as a trophy?”

Azriel seemed to consider it, cocking his head to the side.

Could he? Should he?

“You deserve it,” he told Lucien simply.

“Perhaps. But I didn’t do it just for myself. I did it for the Fae kind as well.”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

Lucien unsheathed his sword and asked coldly, “so, what happens now? How do you want to do this?”

Azriel turned his head and seemed to listen to something.

Lucien was well aware of the male’s madness–knew that Azriel thought that Elain was standing beside him that very moment, speaking to him.

“Elain says ‘hello’,” Azriel said.

It cost him nothing, and Lucien answered, “Hello Elain.”

Azriel stiffened and glanced at the other male with mild surprise. Like he wasn’t expecting Lucien to greet Elain.

After a long pause, Azriel scrubbed his chin and muttered, “she says not to kill you”.

Lucien almost dropped his sword, glaring at the Prince, mistrust in his eye.

“Stop fucking around, Shadowsinger. If you are here to kill me, then just do it.”

Azriel smiled at his old title. Shadowsinger. Yes, that power remained with him, but also disappeared some time ago. It was odd to hear the title spoken out loud.

“She asks for you to kill me,” he stated simply. “But only on this specific spot.”

“What are you on about?” Lucien groaned. “I am not killing you! If we fight, then we fight like real Fae!”

“I don’t need to fight like real Fae,” Azriel snapped. “I’ve fought for something for almost 800 years and what did it give me? Nothing. What I want is a life that was taken from me. What I want, is to live a life with my fucking wife. What I want is to escape this world, the judgement in everyone’s eyes, and to no longer be called a ‘madman’. I want to live a life with Elain Archeron. I want to be with her. I want…” he stopped, his voice trailing off. Then he raised his eyes and looked at Lucien, almost pleading with him, “I want release, Lucien. That’s what I want. I want to be with Elain. In this world. In another. I don’t care. I just want that…I just want to feel…Feel what I felt with her and have it be real.”

Lucien listened, unsure if Azriel was being truthful, but also saw the desperation in the male’s eyes. Was Azriel, in fact, not as mad as he let everyone believe?

Or was this just a moment of rare mental clarity?

“So I am to kill you?” he then confirmed.

“That’s what Elain says,” Azriel nodded.

“And then what?”

“And then you go on your merry way, scheming or doing whatever it is that you do.”

“And Rhysand?”

“I am a burden, not a cause celebre to him,” Azriel shrugged indifferently. “And if it took me that long to find you, I think you are quite safe. He won’t find you.”

“What will happen when I kill you?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel confessed. “But Elain insists on it.”

“You do know that this is…” Lucien’s voice was quiet. “I am not used to murdering unarmed men…and you are my mate’s husband…”

“It’s all right,” Azriel shrugged. “I forgive you. Just do it already. Stop talking. I am at peace. My daughter will take over Hewn City. She is a marvellous, brilliant, smart woman–I know the Power will choose her.”

“You have a daughter?” Lucien exclaimed, absolutely puzzled by this new revelation.

“Yeah. I suspected that she was–for a long time–and I finally got proof a few years ago. And I am so proud of her. I’ve got two amazing children–Temal and my Elena. And my grandchildren. Believe me, I am at peace. I am content. And whatever is going to happen, is going to happen.”

He stepped aside and walked to a specific spot, stopping abruptly.

“Elain says it has to be done here.”

“Why?”

“The Cauldron stood here for a while, in this specific spot. The Cauldron loves her and always helps her with odds and ends.”

“Killing you is helping her?”

“I don’t know. We are about to find out. Also, do it cleanly, Vanserra. One through the heart. Got it?”

“I suppose.”

Azriel pulled Truth-Teller out of its sheath and clutched it in his hand. “Don’t want to lose it.”

Lucien approached him cautiously, still unsure of what was happening, but Azriel seemed at ease and determined.

“I guess I am coming home, treasure,” Azriel murmured.

Light flooded the space around him. Azriel stood in front of a door, in a place that was not familiar to him. He was still clutching his dagger in his hand. Gingerly, he pushed the door and it opened and he stepped inside.

“Hi, love, are you home?” Elain called out from inside the house.

“I am,” Azriel murmured.

Suddenly, Elain, lovely as a morning sunrise, ducked her head from behind a wall and smiled at him.

“You are late,” she said.

“It took me a long time to find the way here.”

He looked around.

Nothing seemed familiar, and yet it was. It was a house filled with things that were unknown to him, and of a different origin.

“Is this the Land of Milk and Honey?” he wondered.

“No. It’s Lunathion.”

This was…unexpected.

She came to him, looking just like he remembered her, only glowing with life and health. Her outfit was unusual and unfamiliar to him–a plain sleeveless shirt that was quite tight and a pair of short pants, which looked more like underwear than something one would wear outside. Her long braid hung carelessly over her shoulder. On her finger, she wore the ring that he’d given her when they married. The same simple silver band.

“I’ve been waiting,” Elain said, putting his hand to her lips.

“What was the price?” he wondered, looking down at her and still unsure if this was another illusion, if this was death, or if this was real.

She worried her lower lip between her teeth and then admitted,

“There is no going back. This was the Cauldron's final gift. Its parting gift. We died, only to live again, but here. We’ll never see any of them again. Not our children, not our family. We can never jump through a Rift to go back. We died.”

He nodded.

A price he was willing to pay.

“Ready for a new chapter?” she said.

“With you?” he asked hopefully.

She reached for him and took his scarred hand in hers.

“With me. Forever.”

“Forever.”

#elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel and elain #elain x azriel #elain #elriel fanfic #my fanfiction #my writing #a ballad of sorrow and love #Azriel x Elain #elain and azriel #elriel month #Elrielmonth

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emodaryls · 7 months

Text

Dad’s Home !

Gender neutral | Father!Daryl Dixon / Little!Daryls Kid!Reader

Agere (Age Regression) SFW!!!! NOT KINK!!!!

Word count: 903 (?)

Summary: You wake up from a nap that you took to pass the time while waiting for Daryl (your dad) to home home. He makes dinner and you two snuggle and watch a movie !! :3

A/N: this is my first time seriously writing a fanfic… pls bear with me I’m sorry if it’s bad or not what u expected 🤧

The afternoon sun shines through the window, casting a warm glow in the room and rousing you from your sleep. You pull your blanket up higher, protecting yourself from the slight chill that lingers. You feel fuzzy.

You open your eyes and squint, taking in your surroundings. A nearly empty sippy cup with apple juice lays beside you, and a few of your stuffies have fallen off of your bed and onto the hardwood floor. Sitting up, you wrap the blanket around you and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Your feet touch the floor with a light tap sound, and you get up to grab your stuffies. You feel bad for the stuffies, them having to be on the cold floor for god knows how long, but they forgive you. They always do.

You’re about to go back to your nap until you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, along with boots shuffling. You walk over to the door and grab the handle, which is cold to the touch. It is winter after all.

You open the door and step out of your room, feet pattering against the cold hardwood floors. You rush downstairs and your eyes light up when you see your father setting down his bag and crossbow on the floor.

“Daddy!” You chime, rushing over to greet him. Your arms wrap around him, and Daryl lets out a low chuckle, returning the hug. You two embrace for a while, and then Daryl eventually separates and ruffles the top of your head.

“Hey, kiddo.” He speaks in a gentle yet raspy voice, one that he only uses with you. “How are ya? Did ya eat while I was gone?” He looks down at you with soft eyes, waiting for your response.

You answer by shaking your head no and go straight back to hugging him, head buried in his chest. You didn’t eat anything besides a few crackers. You were starving, your rumbling tummy showing it. Daryl chuckles again, and gently separates you from him.

“Ya want the usual?” He asks, moving towards the kitchen. “I found more boxes of the mac and cheese, I could make it for ya.” Your usual dinner was mac and cheese, chicken nuggets (or strips), and apples. You usually have water or apple juice with it as well.

“Yes..” you mumble, tone sleepy and childish. You’ve been regressing and feeling all fuzzy for most of the day. Being sleepy doesn’t help much with the fuzzy feeling.

You walk over to the couch and before you know it , your eyes are heavy and closing, and your breath slows. You fall asleep. Next thing you know, you feel your dad shaking you awake.

“Hey… wake up kid.” Daryl whispers, a hand on your shoulder that’s gently shaking you. Your eyes flutter open and you’re met with the sight of your father gazing at you with soft eyes. You let out a mix of a tired hum and groan, stretching out your arms and legs.

“Yer foods ready. Nice and warm… better finish it ‘fore it gets cold.” He helps you sit up, grabbing your plate and sitting next to you. He blows on the food, cooling it down to a temperature where it won’t burn your mouth.

Your food is on your favorite plate as always. A baby/toddler plate that’s white with barriers to separate the food and keep it all from touching, and a rainbow-colored pattern on the base.

“How old are ya?” He asks, referring to the age you regress to.

You hold up 3 fingers. “Three!”

Daryl smiles and scoops up a bit of mac and cheese on a fork. “Alrigh’, here comes the airplane...” He moves the fork close to your mouth. You open your mouth, take the macaroni, chew, and then swallow.

You repeat this for about 7 minutes until the whole plate is empty. Daryl sets the plate down on the coffee table, and you shift closer to him. Your head rests on his side and he brings an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle closer, enjoying his embrace. You’ve always liked cuddling with your dad. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Suddenly, you scoot to the edge of the couch, grabbing the remote off the coffee table. You hand it to Daryl, hinting that you want to watch a movie. He catches the hint and he switches on the television. He taps your shoulder twice before getting up and grabbing a VCR of a movie, specifically Finding Nemo. It’s one of your favorites.

He puts the VCR in the player and the movie begins shortly after. You shift closer to Daryl, practically in his lap now, head resting against his chest. You two remain like this for a while until you fall asleep about halfway into the movie.

Daryl notices and he grabs your stuffie, placing it on your chest. He scoops you up into his arms and takes you upstairs to your room, the stairs creaking under his weight. He places you into the bed and pulls the covers up to your chest, tucking it in at the sides. Daryl watches you for a few moments before kneeling, brushing back your hair, and kissing your forehead.

“Night, kiddo… love ya, so much.”

He stands up, walking over to the door. He looks behind him for a moment, then gently shuts the door, letting you sleep in peace.

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petrichor-idyllic · 2 years

Note

Hey! I wanted to request a fic with minho maybe where the reader (she/her) is shy? And a mom friend too maybe like feeding everybody 24/7 and caring all sort of stuff with her like band aids and napkins.

(Sorry for any mistakes english is not my first language)

I think I can just about manage this.

This is kind of short because I really could just not think of a decent plot for the life of me.

Writer's block is a killer man.

SOFT AT HEART

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMERY: See above. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

You've been harbouring a long-term crush on Minho, but the problem is you're shy and nervous, and Minho is anything but. Of course, Minho isn't the only Glader you care about, but it's hard to bond with a group of rowdy boys sometimes. So, you show your affections by taking care of them instead. Unbeknownst to you, your subtle acts of kindness give Minho the drive he's been missing for a long time- and maybe he needs a bit more than what he's getting.

WARNINGS: None, really.

You're the odd one out in the Glade. Of course, there's the blinding obvious that you're the only girl amongst, but also you're more reserved than your counterparts.

You've always felt like there's a strange barrier between you and the other Gladers- maybe it's because of your gender, maybe it's because of your personality. But it doesn't matter; something about you just doesn't quite click.

It's not that you don't like the boys. You love them, in fact- they're normally kind and understanding with you even though they aren't with each other. They have a lot of respect for you.

And the feeling is mutual.

But, you can't exactly go around telling a bunch of teenage boys how much you care about them without them getting the wrong idea. Not that you're great with your words to begin with. So, you show your affections through acts of service.

You offer food and water to tired Gladers who are too busy to stop working to have lunch- mainly Buliders, Track-hoes and Slicers. You carry bandages and band-aids for slight injuries that happen to those around you, and you always offer an understanding ear when the boys want to vent their frustrations, even if you don't always know what to say.

Maybe your subtle acts of kindness would just be a typical friendly gesture if it weren't for the fact that you have a massive crush on Minho.

You swore to yourself when you first came up in the Box that you wouldn't get romantically involved with any of the boys. And you've made that painfully clear to everyone. They're your friends, and they all see you as the big sister role you've put yourself in- but Minho?

Minho.

A flaw in your plan, to say to the least.

It's not like you guys talk all the time or spend loads of time together, but you have got into the habit of getting up early and meeting the Runners at the Doors to give them their lunch and drinks for the day.

You only do this so they can have more time in the Map Room before they leave for the day, which is some much needed precious seconds. You started doing this after you overheard Minho complaining about feeling like there's not enough time in the day. So, when you started showing up first thing in the morning, waking up earlier than most of the Glade, he definitely took a shine to you.

It's a simple gesture, really. One that doesn't seem to faze the other Runners in the slightest, but Minho always seems more determined and happier after seeing you. Even the Runners have pointed out a shift in work ethic to Ably.

Though, with you starting to cooperate with talking to Minho and having actual conversations, the way he looks at you is starting to make you melt.

You don't really know what it is about Minho. He's sarcastic and kind of mean sometimes, and he's definitely not scared of speaking his mind or acting recklessly. He's one of the highest regarded Gladers around, for obvious reasons, but he's probably also one of the most feared and powerful.

You've actually witnessed Minho tell Alby what to do.

What a day that was.

But that might be why you started liking him- because he isn't like that with you. Sure, you'll get the occasional witty comment or eye roll, but for the most part, he's kinder with you. It's kind of common knowledge that you're the Glade's soft spot, but that's more applicable to Minho than anyone else.

"Dude, you're staring again," Ben leans against a tree at the edge of the Deadheads where him and Minho occasionally spend free time away from the other members of the Glade.

"Hm?" Minho hums, sitting on the ground, not really paying attention to anything Ben has to say. That's nothing new.

"You're staring- again," Ben scoffs, crouching down next to him, "yanno you can talk her without her feeding us at the Doors?"

Minho glares at his friend. "I'm not staring."

Minho is a liar. You've plagued him for a while, even before you started providing for them. Of course, this is the expectation with being the only girl, but Minho has changed- like said before.

"You totally are, shuck-face."

"Slim it, Ben- you don't know what you're talking about."

"You're soft on her, man; everyone can see it."

"Everyone's soft on her, shuck-face. That's why she's made it clear she's not gonna date or any of that klunk with us."

"I mean..." Ben drags out the word, "you never know, right?"

"Dude, what are you getting at here?"

Ben shrugs. "I don't know, man, I'm just... picking up a vibe." Minho squints at his friend, bewildered that Ben thinks that's any kind of explanation.

"The shuck are you talking about?"

Ben sighs. "You've just been better, dude. It's nice having you back to normal."

Minho didn't need to ask. He knows what Ben's talking about. Before you showed up, Minho was rapidly losing hope. Having fully mapped the whole Maze and still without an exit, or even so much of a sign of an exit, it's kind of hard to keep hopes up.

But when you came up and started going around trying to raise everyone's spirits, despite being slightly awkward; he started to pick up speed again. The Glade became more positive, and Minho started to gain feelings for you.

Despite what you'd made clear.

"I think you're looking too much into it," Minho huffs, sitting back properly, leaning fully against the tree.

"I don't-"

"Hey!" You attempt to shout over to the boys, realising they're yet to come to dinner after the long day. You're holding two bowls of stew as you walk over. "You guys okay?" You ask, passing the food to the boys in turn.

Minho takes the dish from you. "Playing Glade mother as per usual?"

You avoid his gaze. "Yeah, well, you guys haven't eaten yet and Frypan is impatient- can't have our best Runners going hungry, can we?"

"Ah, so you think I'm the best?" Ben's tone is a kind of fake flirty, probably to gauge Minho's reaction. You just blink at him.

"I-I mean, I don't really know much about running, but I'm pretty sure Minho is the Keeper for a reason- so, uh, sorry?" Your words don't quite make sense, not wanting to insult Ben, but making your opinion known.

Minho can't help but smirk at this as Ben fake pouts. His eyes land on you, flickering up and down for a second, almost unintentionally; which makes your face feel warm.

"Anyway," you clear your throat, "I'm gonna..." You throw your thumb over your shoulder, "yanno."

"Yeah, catch you later." You give an awkward wave to Minho before you turn and walk slightly faster than normal away.

"You're whipped, bro," Ben chuckles between eating spoonfuls of stew, resulting in getting punched in the leg.

"Shut up, man."

Minho thought about this for a while- longer than he'd care to admit. He does like you, and you seem to be more friendly and talkative with him than you do the other Gladers.

Maybe he should just bite the bullet.

Maybe just asking you on a date wouldn't be that bad of an idea. I mean, the worst you can say is no, right? And you're a nice girl, of course, you'd be gentle about it.

Unless, you're not and you reject him and humiliate him.

Okay, so Minho might have a fear of rejection that he didn't know he had. It's not worth the awkwardness.

It's not until the next Bonfire night that Minho reconsiders this. You've taken a shine to the new Greenie.

And by "taken a shine", I mean the poor boy is rocking back and forth, curled into a ball and you're desperately trying to comfort him. He does seem to have relaxed a bit, but the Maze is a lot to take in.

He's been given Gally's Special Brew, and the alcohol has definitely calmed his nerves. So, you take a break, retreating to a more secluded area- still within shouting distance if you're needed, but far enough away to take a breather. You lean back against a log, letting your head test on the wood.

"Here," your eyes flicker open, seeing Minho standing over you, a drink in his hand.

He'd been watching you for a while, and seeing how dedicated and caring you've been literally all day has shown him he needs to make some kind of move.

"Thanks," you sit up straight, taking the drink off of him as he takes the spot next to you, both of you facing away from the festivities. "You not joining in?"

"Nah," he scoffs, taking a sip of his own drink.

"I guess you never really do, huh?" He smiles at you; he always feels warm inside when you show him that you pay attention to him. You pay attention to everyone, but sometimes it feels like you pay extra attention to him.

Probably because you do, but he doesn't know that.

"You know me so well," he scoffs and you roll your eyes before he playfully shoves you- something you wouldn't have the courage to do.

"'Course- I always pay attention to people I like," a smirk appears across Minho's face as he slightly raises his eyebrow. It takes you a second, but you quickly realise what that sounded like.

Your face immediately starts to burn and you look away. "I didn't mean-"

"Uh huh."

"I didn't!"

"Why do you look so embarrassed then?"

"Shut up," you grumble, hands coming to your face as Minho laughs at you. You've never been good at the flirting thing, and it's not hard to fluster you, but since you actually like Minho, it's drastically worse. "I didn't mean it like that- I just- you're my friend and I-I respect you- and-"

"Do you wanna go on a date?"

You freeze, turning to face him as you blink.

"What?"

Minho stares straight ahead, mainly so he doesn't freak out. "I just figured I'd stop thinking about asking and just actually ask you." You open your mouth to speak but he doesn't give you the chance. "I know you've got this whole dating rule, and you don't want any of that klunk- but I like you, (Y/N). And I used to think that if a girl came up here, I wouldn't care 'cause I've got the Maze to deal with. But, I can't help it- you're just... Good. Everyone here likes you and you're just a good person."

He looks at you, second guessing himself when he sees your completely blank expression.

"I-I don't mean- shuck it," he laughs. "You can say no and I won't be upset; I get it. But I just thought I'd ask. It's just one date, if you want, and then we don't have to do anything else or be anything and forget it even happened if you regret it. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"What would we do?" The question is out of a genuine curiosity than anything. It's not like there are many restaurants or movie theatres in the Glade.

Now it's Minho's turn to blankly blink. "Well, we uh, we could go for a swim in the lake, or I could rob Frypan and we could have a picnic in the Deadheads, or we could just chill somewhere and talk about dumb klunk- whatever you wanna do."

"You've thought about this, huh?" You smile, warmth fluttering through your body as Minho turns a shade of pink, scratching the back of his neck.

"I mean... just a little." You've never seen him be embarrassed before.

It's kind of cute.

"Okay," you say after a second.

"Okay?"

"Okay, I'll go on a date with you; that picnic sounds good."

He grins. "Yeah?"

"Yeah... I kinda like you too, so..."

Minho can't stop smiling, even when you avoid looking at him again.

"You like me too?" You glance at him. He looks perfect, his lopsided smile, his dark hair and face illuminated by the flames behind him.

"Yeah," you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, "I like you too. A lot, actually."

"Cool," he clears his throat, "cool, that's cool."

"(Y/N)!" Newt calls you, "the Greenie's freakin' out again! Give us a shuckin' hand!"

You roll your eyes, standing up and smiling at Minho once again. "So, it's a date then?"

"Yeah, it's a date- I'll figure out that picnic and let you know."

"Sounds like a plan," you say as you step over the log, trying to hide your smile and not squeal the entire Glade down as you go back to your daily role.

Minho watches you walk away, letting his head drop back when your out of sight. He's completely buzzing and feels on top of the world.

"So," Ben approaches, chuckling at his friend's love-drunk state, "you finally asked her then?"

"Shut your shuckin' mouth."

Yo, here's another Minho piece, though I am struggling with all the Minho work atm. He's one of my favourite all time characters but I'm running out of new ways to do the same thing, if that makes sense? So sorry if this one isn't as good- my quality is going down hill lmao.

I still hope you kind of like, regardless :))

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