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#but for real it's just wild to me that they managed to get through an entire war like that
sindumpster · 5 months
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Accidentally logged into my old mistake blog and only notifs I had gotten in the past year were for that one post with almost 1K notes
And I remember absolutely hating it and now I have the reminder that I really don’t crave that kind of attention anymore
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liebgotts-lovergirl · 2 years
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Me rn, writing my lil WW2 Era story like
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My friends who work at [redacted] are going THROUGH it
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k9wa · 3 months
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⟁ SENSITIVE ft. BOOTHILL.
⠀ — “you get all excited for me to fix you up and call you a good boy.”
⠀ OR
⠀ — a sensitive spot during a repair leaves him melting into your callused little hands.
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⚠︎ mechanic!reader, so much flirting im kind of sick, he whimpers i have an agenda, this is like 90% dialogue sorry, he wants u sooo bad. wc 1k, from this req.
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“y’know darlin,” boothill managed to breathe out through a taut jaw and clenched teeth. “you bein’ this close ain’t exactly helpin’ me focus none.”
your fingers were slow, careful, precise as they pushed a few tiny wires apart, giving view deeper inside the little panel on boothill’s throat.
the position you two stood in was one all too familiar, boothill perched on your workbench with you between his thighs— the only new variables being your face way closer than he’s used to and your fingers proding around in his surprisingly sensitive wires.
it was an…odd sensation, to say the least. a small unpleasant stinging that simultaneously stimulated a rather pleasant shiver up his back with every small poke.
“time and place, cowboy.”
you responded quietly, tone a little flat with your tease from concentration.
“can’t help lettin’ my mind— wander, can i now?” his breath hitched a bit as you nicked a particularly touchy wire.
“if you let me finish this,” you lifted your head enough to meet his eyes, free hand gently smoothing out the crease in his brow. “i’ll let you show me just how wild your imagination can get.”
boothill bit back a scruff chuckle at that. 
“that enough incentive for you to sit still?”
“well, i reckon that’s plent— mmgh!”
a pair of mechanical hands tightly grab onto your hips as his shoulders tense, a knee-jerk result of your tweezers finding the out of place wire you’d been looking around for.
your hands paused, opting to ignore the way he audibly whimpered for raising your gaze a second time to check on him.
“you hangin’ in there?”
boothill’s fingers flexed as they held onto you, relaxing from squeezing your pants to a more gentle cradle of your hips.
“you know,” he swallowed thickly— as if his throat could even dry out, likely just a natural reflex— “you got a way of makin’ fixin’ me up feel real special.”
the slight waver to his voice isn’t lost on your ears— it was quite loud in them, actually.
“i’m hangin’ in fine, don’t worry your pretty head none.”
carefully retracting your tweezers, you stood up straight enough to lightly push his hat up, giving view to his face and cupping your hand over a blue-hued cheek.
“wanna take a break?” 
he nearly had to clutch his chest with the gentle concern that laced your tone.
boothill knew he was flushed, was purposefully avoiding looking you in the eye because a few pokes to some sensitive spots had him sliding his hands to your waist like a lifeline— not that what he could distantly feel of your skin against the synthesised nerves of his palms weren’t doing much to cool him off anyway. but he did…relax, somewhat. 
he always enjoyed when you’d touch his face, getting to feel all the unique little details of you; the gentle drum of your pulse and the little calluses from your tools. it somehow always manages to make the tension in his body ebb away, draining with an exhale that lightly fans against your wrist.
he shook his head with a quiet clear of his throat— another unnecessary function that served more as a tick than anything.
“nah, nah i’m alright.” he assured. it didn’t make him any less embarrassed to be having such a reaction. 
big bad criminal until you get a little too fudgin’ touchy, apparently.
“let’s just get this finished up, yeah? maybe we can move onto somethin’ more pleasant.”
your thumb gave two gentle taps to his cheekbone before it pulled away, reaching for your tweezers for the nth time.
“that’s my boy.”
oh how boothill’s chest bloomed at the simple praise, the endearing ‘my’ that slipped in with it licking up his ribs and curling to rest along where a drumming heart should have been.
“jus’ be gentle with me, will ya sugar plum?”
“you know i've always got ya.”
each plug or untangle of a little yellow or red cable had his systems humming, fingers occasionally curling into your hips every time a little surge left him biting his cheek a little harder.
“we’re almost done,” your voice is icing on an already cavity-inducing cake, though he’ll gladly take a toothache if it’s for you. “just a little longer.”
boothill was going fist to fist and losing with the urge to completely melt under your deft fingers.
“…keep talkin’ to me,” he requested with a murmurmurmur, cautious not to move too much. “helps me stay on t—” he had to bite back another whimper, cheek going between his teeth and eyes going to the ceiling. “—task.”
boothill didn’t miss the little tug of your lips.
“you know, you do this thing when you get shy.” you mused quietly, breath meeting the shell of his ear. “you bite your cheek ‘n look away. it’s cute.”
boothill couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at your deduction. he tried to regain some of his composure, though the colour in his cheeks continued to betray him.
“i don’t know ‘bout shy,” he rumbled, keeping his voice steady as he could. “but i’ll take cute if it means i get to hear you keep sweet talkin’ me. keep this up and i might start enjoyin’ these repairs a lil too much.”
his voice was a little strained, though still held his usual humour.
“like you don’t love em already.” you teased back, gently closing the panel on his neck as it re-sealed with a small hiss. “you get all excited for me to fix you up, call you a good boy and send you on your merry way.”
“i’m still waitin’ on that last bit, y’know?”
you shook your head, popping his hat off his head and placing it on your own.
“good boy,” you pinched his cheek endearingly. “you’re all done. do you want a lolipop too?”
“think i deserve somethin’ a lil sweeter than a lolipop, don’t you sugar?” boothill’s face unknowingly deepens at the sight of you in his hat, brave words betrayed by a nervous tap in his finger and more blue to the apples of his cheeks.
“we’ll save it for when you’ve got a real booboo,” you took his hat off, using the brim to lightly tilt his chin up and give him a tender kiss on the cheek. for such a heavy hunk of metal, he nearly began to float.
“but there’s something to hold your sweet tooth for now.”
“boothill?”
“y..yeah, sweet pea?”
“you’re overheating.”
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⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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reallyromealone · 3 months
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Part 2 to the rindo x male reader the succubus like ran comes looking for rindo and barges into his room to see reader and rindo cuddled up together and ran goes and tell everyone. Just thinking at how chaotic it’ll be.🙃
Title: morning after
Fandom: Tokyo revengers
Characters: bonten
Fic type: smut, omegaverse
Pairings: Rindō x male reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, smut, nsfw, omegaverse, au, demon au, reader is Omega
Notes: I got you
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
(Name) Was snuggly and full, the succubus testing on his new alphas chest as Rindō put a show on the tv in the corner as he rubbed (name)s hip "you hungry? For like human food?" The Alpha clarified and (name) looked dazed as he tried to comprehend what his alpha said to him "poor thing, fucked you stupid..." Rindō teased as he ordered food for them, he didn't know what the Omega liked so he got something light for him after all they just fucked for a solid four hours.
"You really managed to pick one of the most dangerous men and demon in the country, you know that right?"
"You smelled good..." (Name) Mumbled and Rindō chuckled at his adorable mates words "you smell real good too"
"Rinny, I know it's late but Mikey wants us to... Holy shit" Ran froze as he watched his younger brother in demon form snuggle up to a cute little succubus with claim marks on their necks, both looking like they just had some wild sex.
"Oh my fuck... hahaaAhHAHAA!" Ran cackled as he stumbled out and (name) snapped from his haze and looked embarrassed as he covered himself, Rindō looking annoyed at his brother.
"One moment baby" Rindō kissed him gently before going to go deal with his nosey older brother.
"How did that happen?" Ran asked while giggling and sitting on the couch "he came for a meal and I decided I wanted to keep him" Rindō said simply and ran raised an eyebrow "you decided to just... Keep him?" That did not sound like his brother, Rindō didn't just see some pretty little thing and keep them. "He's a half-blood, is a- well was a virgin and I don't know... I just couldn't let him leave"
"Half-blood? Does he know what you do?"
"I don't think he knows who I am, like at all"
The two heard the door creek open and the Omega in question stood in Rindōs shirt and a pair of his boxers "you uh... Destroyed my clothes, sorry..." (Name) Looked awkward as he fidgeted with the sleeves and his tail curled around his leg as a show of submission.
Aaaaand Ran now understood, this was exactly Rindōs type not to mention an Omega succubi so the cutie could survive Rindō.
Rindō motioned (name) to come to them, the poor thing limping as Ran tried to not laugh as Rindō pulled him into his lap "this is my brother, he can be annoying as shit but he's good" Rindō said as the elder Haitani smiled "so (name), tell me about yourself"
This is not how any of them expected to have this type of conversation, the scent of sex still lingering as Ran went to pour himself a drink and Rindō soothed his mates nerves, clearly (name) was uncomfortable having this sort of meeting right after having his world rocked.
"O-oh, well I work at my grandpa's book store and I'm in university... I'm just finishing last semester..."
"I see~ and are you aware of who we are?"
"I only realized when Rindō had me pinned..."
"He was too hungry to realize that he went into a demons apartment" Rindō added and Ran raised an eyebrow and Rindō sighed "he only took energy through kisses because he felt bad" human things, things that the brothers didn't really understand nor cared too deeply about, only really having any 'warm' feelings like compassion and care for each other and for Rindō, (name) was added due to the Bonding mark.
"Well that's fucking stupid, don't starve yourself because you worry about others feelings"
"But--"" weakness like that amongst demons and even humans will get you killed."
(Name) Fidgeted and Ran sighed "well I suppose I'll leave you love birds to it, I just came by to say Mikey wants you first thing in the morning since you were obviously too occupied to answer..." Ran shrugged and downed the rest of his drink before sauntering off, turning to look at the succubus "welcome to the family"
Once Ran left, Rindō brought (name) back to their room, still having time till they had to do their shit, the Alpha checking on their foods progress and humming "one second baby, I'm just gonna get our food" slipping on pajama pants the Alpha presented in his human form while (name) cuddled into the blankets, staring at his back while he went to the lobby.
What did he get himself into? He was just trying to get a meal and now he's got a mate! A hot one at that! And his conversation with Rindōs brother was so awkward!
He can't believe he was so reckless!
But god... Did this help considerably, he always felt a burn in his abdomen and his hunger... He wasn't hungry anymore, he felt so full and energetic.
He wanted more... But he would rather die than ask that.
"Sit up, pretty boy" Rindō said as he walked in with takeout bags "I got us wraps, I didn't know what you wanted so I just got the most popular" (name) took the wrap that was handed to him "what's next?" (Name) Asked as he bit into his wrap "what do you mean?" Rindō asked as he swallowed his food "like... You claimed me and stuff, so like what now?"
"Instinct wise you won't be able to be away from me or my scent without getting anxious... You haven't eaten right so you need to be 'fed' often till it regulates again" Rindō explained as he looked at the other with a gaze (name) couldn't figure out "you can share my bed or take the guest room..." (Name) Felt like the guest room thing wasn't an actual option and just nodded, he was a little intimidated by his new mate.
He was easily intimidated by a lot of things, he wasn't exactly the strongest after all.
Stronger than a human but definitely weaker than an average demon.
"We can work out the details tomorrow" the two finished their food and Rindō carried (name) to the washroom to brush their teeth, the demon having a few spares "what? There was a deal" he said simply when (name) looked curious at the variety pack.
When (name) woke, he let out a soft gasp as the sensation of a tongue lapping his ass, toes curling and fists clenching pleasure. Turning his head he looked to the source, seeing Rindō focused and entranced by his meal while groping and playing with (name)s ass cheeks. "Finally, you're awake" Rindō teased the poor Omega who whined, watching as Rindō bit his ass teasingly before moving to rut his cock between (name)s spit lubed cheeks "please.." (name) whined as he tried to get the alphas cock into him pitifully while Rindō just grinned sadistically.
"Come on, Omega... Beg for it"
"P-please...." (Name) Was flushed and embarrassed but Rindō didn't care as he tisked and slapped (name)s ass "come on baby, you can do better" he loved teasing the Omega already, he made it so easy! The durability of a demon and the reactions of a human~
"Please... Please um.... Put your cock in me..." (Name) Was embarrassed needy as Rindō rubbed his cock against (name)s cute puckered ass slowly, letting it catch slightly before pushing up, eventually pushing slowly into (name)s tight heat with a slow groan. Only half his cock was in as he began thrusting slowly, watching intently as his cock sunk deeper and deeper till he bottomed out. Rindō let out a sigh as (name) let out little moans and whimpers, feeling Rindō kiss bus nape before beginning his thrusts.
"Yesyesyes!" (Name) Chanted as his eyes turned completely (color), somehow the pleasure was even better than Yesterday and he was addicted to Rindōs cock.
After their breakfast the two showered and (name) got to suck his first cock.
"I gotta head to work, I'll drive you to university"
"I need to get my bag from my house...."
Rindō hummed before the two got ready and went out, stopping at (name)s apartment and Rindō was absolutely nosey while his mate collected the things he needed "ok ready!" (Name) Said happily and they were off.
(Name) Was shy as he was driven to university in a luxury car, at least a 300k car....
"I'll have someone collect you, I'll call you when they're on their way" Rindō said kissing him once more, a trill leaving (name)s lips as energy transfered "go get good grades"
Rindō walked into the building like he usually did though with an extra pep in his step, going to the executive floor to see "the fuck are you all staring at me for?"
"So how's married life?" Koko teased and Rindō groaned at the others who snickered "Ran told us all about him, limping out and looking like he was mauled" Sanzu added snarkily as they all looked at him teasingly.
"Better not get in the way of work" mochi said half teasing half deeply serious and Rindō scoffed "humans die easy"
"Oh he's not human-- well not mostly" ran added and the others looked curious "what is he? Fae?"
"Succubus, a virgin one before rinny got his claws into him"
"Holy shit"
"An Omega to boot"
Rindō was ready to die as the others gawked "damn.... That's like finding a unicorn...."
"We HAVE to meet this little one" kakucho said intrigued and Rindō wanted to die.
Hopefully (name)s classes were better than this shit.
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sylusjinwoon · 4 months
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{ 168 }
the only exception.
yandere!jinwoo sung x fem.reader
disclaimers: i do not condone such behaviors in real life; read at your own caution; contains obsessive and possessive behavior.
whenever the news and gossip magazines chose to focus on the life of south korea's latest s-rank hunter, they would more often than not see sung jinwoo being so close to cha hae-in. there was a kindness in his gaze whenever the beautiful blond woman was settled right next to him, and he remained the ever so perfect gentleman when it came to how he treated hae-in.
and when their dating status had been confirmed, the world went wild for their relationship! paparazzi would discreetly follow them to each of their outings, the cameras catching them in their most pristine moments...
from holding hands while exiting the theaters together;
to late night walks spent on the beach;
and even the hundreds of kisses they shared after the completion of each raid they had went on together.
truly, jinwoo and hae-in's love story was something that was well known across the entirety of the world. there wasn't a single doubt in anyone's mind that they would become each other's endgame-
that is... until you arrived.
{ ... }
you kept pulling at the collar of your blouse, feeling as though the stiffness of your newly bought clothes was a bit too stifling for you-
or maybe you were just nervous about your new transfer to the korean hunter's association branch. apparently, news of your skills as a healer had caught the interest of one of the most well known branches of the hunter's association. and despite being on the fence about leaving the comfort of your country, just seeing the amount of money they had offered you was more than enough to make you reconsider.
before your transfer, you had taken some time to learn a bit of the language, just in case. despite how you knew that the chairman could speak fluently in various languages (including yours) you still wished to do your part and at least make an attempt to speak korean.
while approaching the chairman's office, you smoothed out the fabric of your skirt and blouse once more, ready to knock on the chairman's door had it not already been splayed open for you.
grateful that your reflexes were fast enough, you managed to take a step back, avoiding getting your face smashed in by the wooden doors. with a surprised gaze, you saw standing in front of you was a tall man who appeared to be around your age. his eyes go wide as a gentle, blue glow seemed to shine against them.
his full lips were parted, and his eyebrows were furrowed in response as he kept staring at you; not even blinking once as his eyes kept on trailing down your form. the more he kept looking at you, the more his soft, ebony locks of hair seemed to fall across his face, further covering his eyes.
for what seemed like an eternity, you and the tall man remained in that position. while you were caught up on why he looked so familiar, a sudden lightbulb went up in your head.
he's the super strong hunter that's dating that blond woman, hunter cha?
sung jinwoo. his name finally comes back to you.
he looks back up at you, eyes becoming even wider for the briefest moment as you let out a gasp.
fuck, did i say his name out loud? the urge to apologize to him was felt coursing through your veins as you gave jinwoo a polite bow.
"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say your name so casually. uhm..." you introduce yourself to him, letting him know how you were a new transfer in as much korean that you could manage.
once you finish, it appeared as though there were a shift in jinwoo's demeanor. instead of staring at you with a look of faint interest, there seemed to be a dreamy expression taking over his features. he tests your name out a few times before looking away from you-
with a prominent blush seen settled against his cheeks.
"would you like to join me for dinner?" jinwoo asks you in a flurry of words, making you take yet another step back.
did i hear him wrong?
a pout was seen against jinwoo's face when you didn't answer him, making him ask again, this time in english (a somewhat universally known language), "you and me, dinner?"
"oh, no, i'm sorry!" you quickly held up your hands in hopes of mitigating the tension you felt in the air, "i can't tonight because i have a meeting with the chairman..." your face felt hot, wondering why this was even happening.
jinwoo's shoulders seemed to slump just the tiniest bit in response, with his lips pursed. a sudden movement from your periphery catches your attention, and you trail your eyes down to see what it was, finally noticing the way jinwoo had his fists clenched in response.
a hearty voice calling out your name was what ultimately saves you from this awkward situation, standing up straight as chairman go gunhee greets you, "i was wondering what was taking you so long, but seeing hunter sung jinwoo means that you two must have just met, right?"
"sorry, i'll go now." jinwoo finally leaves just then, but not before suddenly bumping his shoulders against yours. a cold sensation was felt coursing through you, making goosebumps appear all across your skin as you had to fight back the urge to shiver.
jinwoo's presence was just so... overbearing at times. you could feel the darkness exuding from his form in absolute waves, making you feel intimidated by him at first...
but after his sudden question about asking you out to dinner, you were left a bit more confused than intimidated.
only when jinwoo leaves did the chairman place a comforting hand on your shoulder, smiling down at you with words of reassurance. "hunter sung can be a bit intimidating, but he's a good man that means well."
you nod your head in agreement with the chairman, following him into his office, completely forgetting about your strange encounter with jinwoo, remaining blissfully unaware of the strange pairs of glowing, purple eyes that were now hidden beneath your shadow.
{ … }
you had been filled in about the association’s current policy when it came to healers working here. these terms were simple, but had one golden rule that had to be followed:
healers were not allowed to join a guild or form a contract with any guilds; they are meant to serve the association as a whole and go on various raids to help hunters on the field. and because you were evaluated as being an a-rank healer, it was vital that you were kept on call and had to prepare for any raids that were to come.
of course, such a policy remained the same from your own country as well, so you were happy about this fact and saw no issues with following the rules.
as you were escorted out of the building, you let out a happy sigh, taking in the fresh air the night had brought you before making your way back home. as you pass by the citizens that went on with their day, none of them seemed to pay any attention to you, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
which caused you to think back to jinwoo and the general… oddities seen in his behavior.
why did he ask you out when the whole world knew of his relationship with hunter cha hae-in?
as you kept mulling your interaction with him over and over again, you managed to come up with a rational answer…
surely, he had to have meant it in a more professional manner, right? jinwoo probably noticed how nervous you were and wanted to help with further welcoming you. yes, that was probably it.
feeling satisfied with your answer, you began to walk with a bit of a bounce in your step. as your figure got closer to a streetlight, it manages to lengthen your shadow as a sudden, ink-like movement was seen on the pavement.
your eyes go wide, making you look down to see what it was. as your eyes trail across the sidewalk, the only thing you could see was your own shadow growing from beneath the intensity of the light.
“perhaps i’m lacking sleep or something.”
doing your best to convince yourself that you were not losing your mind, you continue your trek home, still unaware of the glowing eyes that remained expertly hidden from beneath the depths of your shadow.
{ … }
to say sung jinwoo had developed an infatuation with you would be a complete understatement-
he was obsessed with you.
ever since you began working as the association’s latest healer (left in the wake of several other healers own retirement), jinwoo had followed along with your every raid.
a strange sense of pride fills him when he sees your face plastered against the news articles. the nation adored your tenacity and potency of your healing abilities, which boosted many hunters’ own confidence and morale with each raid.
and despite how proud jinwoo was for your growing popularity…
he also hated it.
he hated how you were surrounded with other men (and women) who constantly boasted about you and your abilities. seeing how so many people adored you filled jinwoo with a sudden urge to slash them all away from you-
but he held back such urges. after all, it was vital that he play his cards right and appear to be the same, normal hunter sung jinwoo-
a sung jinwoo from before he ever met you.
{ … }
you knew something was amiss when the chairman made a direct call to you on the day that was supposed to be your day off. no gates had appeared as of late, and you took this chance to take a much needed breather from everything.
so you spent the next thirty minutes heading back to the hunter's association building, feeling your anxiety and concern increase by a tenfold the moment chairman go had met with you right when you first entered the building.
"come, let's take a bit of a stroll away from such prying eyes."
the chairman places a gentle hand behind your back, leading you out of the building and back into the warm, afternoon air. you walk aimlessly beside him, wringing your hands together in response to how anxious you felt.
"what's wrong, sir? you seem... conflicted."
he chuckles while glancing down at you, "you're a sharp woman."
the chairman stops walking while staring blankly ahead, and it takes him several seconds to compose himself before he tells you, "ahjin guild wishes to recruit you."
the sudden revelation makes you stop dead in your tracks as well. "what? but that's impossible... you can't mean to tell me that you're considering it, sir?"
he shakes his head while letting out a sigh, "i said the exact same thing to hunter sung. but he would not budge. he truly is going all in, just to have you."
it had been months (a total of 6 months, to be exact) since the day you had first met him. you had not seen him during the various raids you had participated in, the memory of him being brought to the backburner of your mind-
and now, you come to find out that jinwoo wished to recruit you?
impossible.
"he says that if i will not allow you to join ahjin- if i am refusing to make an exception for you, then he will quit being a hunter."
chairman go's words succeeds in making your knees feel weak, nearly making you fall had it not been for the way his powerful arms were kept wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you steady.
"sir, y-you agreed to let him recruit me?"
a solemn expression was seen on the older man's face, giving you a slight nod before admitting to you, "i have made millions of loopholes for the sake of keeping jinwoo within his home country... as long as we have him on our side, then we shall always have the upper hand. i'm sorry."
your heart was pounding in your chest, filling you with a hint of despair, since you knew that there was no way that you could refuse now.
"a-and, when does hunter sung wish for me to start working for him at his guild?"
the chairman meets your gaze and answers, "he wishes for you to start first thing tomorrow morning."
{ ... }
the moment jinwoo received a call from the chairman, pretty much confirming you as the latest member of his guild, he was overjoyed, to say the least.
he had spent so much time paving a path for you; a path that would ultimately lead you to him.
now, all he had to do was tie up some loose ends.
jinwoo remained in his office, settled within the comfort of his guild when he could hear the tapping of someone's shoes echo across his floor. but his mind was too occupied to pay them any mind, holding his cup of instant coffee while staring blankly at the cityscape bathed beneath the light of the full moon.
in the next few seconds, his peace would be interrupted when a woman bursts through his office, panting heavily. he sees hae-in's features being reflected against the smooth pane of the window, and he gives her some semblance of his attention when he acknowledges her with a side glance.
"hunter cha, good evening. what brings you here?"
a sharp inhalation was heard coming from her, the woman's slender hands remaining clenched in response as her eyes began to flash gold. "you know why i'm here, jinwoo. just... just what has been going on with you?!"
"it's been months since we last spoke to each other, and... and every plan that we have made together has been cancelled by you so... so effortlessly."
jinwoo hums, putting down his cup of coffee before fully facing her. "i think you and i both know what's going on, cha hae-in."
angry tears were seen streaming down her face now, with her fists clenched in response. "i may understand it, but that doesn't mean that i'll accept it. we have been dating for nearly a year now, y-yet you're so eager to throw it all away!"
the shadow monarch folds his arms across his chest, left completely unfazed by hae-in's outbursts. "that's why i'm giving you a chance to save your pride; break up with me now and announce it in your next conference."
he watches as her nails dig into the palm of her hand, creating crescent shaped imprints from the sheer amount of pressure she had placed. "and if i refuse?"
the woman wasn't even given a chance to blink when jinwoo reaches her, summoning one of his daggers as he presses the tip of the blade close to her neck. a choked whimper was heard coming from her, and she watches with wide eyes when a droplet of blood manages to slide down the pale skin of her throat.
"you will do as i say, unless you really put such a low value on your life?" jinwoo sneers back at her, eyes glowing a dangerously violet hue.
it was in that moment that hae-in knew jinwoo had changed for the worse, seeing the tendrils of his dark love and obsession take over the entirety of his senses. all she could do was nod in agreement, promising jinwoo that she will make the announcement of their breakup the next day all while silently praying for the new woman jinwoo had fallen for...
{ ... }
[ FAMOUS AND POWERFUL HUNTER CHA HAE-IN JUST ANNOUNCES HER BREAKUP WITH FORMER BOYFRIEND AND FELLOW S-RANK HUNTER, SUNG JINWOO ]
the headlines that you read on your phone made you feel even dizzier as you made your way to ahjin guild's building, sending a wave of vertigo to course through you.
you were breathing heavily, leaning against one of the buildings as you fought back the urge to puke up your breakfast from this morning.
"relax... calm down, it's probably a coincidence. breakups happen all the time, and this time should be no different."
but was it really a coincidence? such timing seemed too... serendipitous. what were the chances that sung jinwoo would become single once more the day you were meant to join his guild?
not to mention, his strange desire for you to join in the first place...
fighting back the bitter taste within your mouth, you continue your trek towards jinwoo's building, ignoring the warning bells that went off from within the depths of your mind. even though your legs felt like lead with each step that you took, you push through and manage to arrive at ahjin's base of operations with a few minutes to spare.
the moment you step into the lobby, you were not expecting jinwoo to be standing directly in front of you, with you barely taking a step across the polished area when the president himself greets you.
he says your name (were you imagining the strange sense of yearning heard in his voice?) before placing a hand behind your back, "i'm so happy to see you again. it's been quite a while since our first meeting, and i intend to make up for it."
the sudden passion heard in jinwoo's voice catches you off guard even further, but you were given little time to react when he tightens his arms around you. a sudden shift was felt in the air as several, wisps of shadows began to surround you and jinwoo-
which left you a gaping mess when you found yourself in an unfamiliar room, surrounded with all the things that you loved.
from a bookshelf filled with your favorite novels and authors,
to various gaming consoles with a brand new laptop settled on a desk-
and the large, luxurious bed settled in the midst of it all-
your mind was struggling to keep up.
a new wave of nausea hits you as jinwoo wraps his arms around your front, bringing your back even closer to his chest as he practically presses you against him. he lets out a soft coo of your name, the tip of his nose felt brushing against your hair before he opens his mouth to gently tug at your ear with his teeth, lightly grazing at your skin.
"you have no idea how long i have waited for this moment, my darling love." a hint of insanity was heard within his voice, causing you to shiver when you tried to meet his gaze-
only to feel your blood turn ice cold at the mere sight of him.
his expression seemed to be in a haze with a prominent blush seen against his cheekbones. his mumblings were unclear to you, but the more you listened to him, the more you realized that such crazed mumblings were of your name alone.
"you’re mine mine mine mine... and if i even sense another breathing down your neck, i'll rip their hearts out."
his sudden admission makes you nearly slump down against the carpeted floors of the room, but jinwoo manages to keep you pressed against his chest. "oh, my darling girl, it's okay, it's okay... you won't need anyone else but me... and i'm going to take such good care of you. you're mine mine mine mine MINE... ah... sorry, i lost myself back there."
jinwoo's rich chuckle fills your ears, and you were still struggling to process everything when he carries you toward the bed decorated with blankets and sheets that went with your usual style. with a hum, he pulls back the blankets, getting into the plush bed with you still in his tight embrace.
after what seemed like an eternity, you manage to ask, "why... why are you like this?"
jinwoo continues to chuckle, further tightening his embrace around you, "well, what do you mean, sarang?"
you tremble and did your best to meet his gaze, "y-you were so loving when it came to hae-in... the perfect couple... you were the picture perfect lover, so why-"
"ah, that version of me is not the real version of me, my darling love." jinwoo interrupts you, admitting it with a sigh of relief. "in fact, it was quite stifling, pretending to bask in such minuscule emotions... one that does not even warrant to be defined as love-"
"oh no, what i felt for cha hae-in pales in comparison to what i feel for YOU. where all i felt was a lukewarm fondness for her, i feel a burning inferno for you."
jinwoo's breathing becomes heavier and more labored when he slowly unbuttons your blouse, lips latching hungrily onto your newly revealed skin as you cried out to him.
"b-but i don't understand... the love that i had seen between you and hae-in seemed so perfect, so why am i so different?"
jinwoo's teeth was lightly felt sinking into your skin, earning a gasp from you as the tears began to well up within your eyes, "well, if my darling must know, then i shall tell her."
jinwoo picks you up just then, allowing your frame to straddle his abdomen when his hands lovingly trace at your figure, "you just have a charm that i find irresistible, sarang. your scent and your appearance drew me into you, like a damn moth to a flame...! i can't help but feel as though the entirety of my existence is to serve and love you..."
he trails off just then, now leaning up to press another kiss against the shell of your ear before harshly whispering, "i'm not going to let anyone else have you. you are the one that evoked such changes in me... revealing my true self... allowing me to love you freely as the way that i have always been."
the severity of his confession was what ultimately sinks in, making you tremble in response. no words were able to escape from your parted lips when he spends the rest of his time littering your face with his possessive sweet kisses.
yet the moment he whispers the following words to you, you knew that your fate had been sealed from the moment sung jinwoo first laid eyes on you:
"you're the only exception... the only one that matters the most to me. everything that happened before you is meaningless now, and i hope that you're ready to take responsibility for all that you have done to me."
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a.n. - whew, this was so much fun to write,,, and lowkey hot as well. like jinwoo, i accept you, darkness and allllll 😭😭😭😭
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
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redr0sewrites · 7 months
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Striker x Reader General Hcs
guysguysguys plsssss hes soooo- cowboys r a guilty pleasure of mine
🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!striker, riding + face riding, oral, somno
🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion
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sfw:
striker never expected to have a real, long term partner, especially with his line of work
sure he's had hookups and flings over the years, but you really threw him off his feet
there was something about you that really dazzled striker, and he knew that you were the one
he dates to marry, and that is truly reflected in how he treats you
striker is a gentleman when he's courting you, he'll do the basics like holding the door for you and giving you gifts, but he somehow always finds a way to take it a step further.
you're both walking down the street and you have to step over a puddle? no need to worry, striker will scoop you up and carry you right over. you ran out of your favorite food while you're craving it? don't fret, striker will run to the store and grab it for you without a second thought
this is all before you both are even together! hes truly a sweetheart towards you, and it shocks everyone how you've managed to tame the wild assassin
striker definitely has a lot of nicknames for you, all circulating around his western class
poppet, sugar, darlin', doll, sugar, and lil' lady (if ur fem) are all ones you'll definitely hear
when talking about you to others, he'll call you "the apple of his eye" or other sappy things like that
he knows how dangerous his job is, and being associated with him can put you in danger. because of that, hes a little reluctant to court you, so he may give slightly mixed signals at first when hes feeling anxious about your safety
it wont take long for him to decide what he wants, but striker definitely wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself
even before you're together he offers you self defense lessons, and is always trying to keep an eye out for you to make sure you're safe
hes protective, but he also trusts you a lot and won't try to interfere with your life or anything, he just wants to make sure you're okay
underneath his tough persona, striker definitely has a soft, domestic vibe. as previously stated, he's the type to want to get married, and even if you don't, he still wants to have a good bond with you
hes a really great person to live with, he def is the type to cook and clean for you and overall carries his weight around the house
he sees it as a respect thing more than anything, and wants you to know how devoted he is to you and that he doesn't expect you to take care of him
he never forces you to do anything though, you can't tell me that he wouldn't absolutely despise people who force their spouses to cook and clean for them. he thinks relationships should be equal, and that you both should share the weight of household responsibilities
i dont think striker is the type to expect much from his partner if that makes sense? he would never want to put pressure on you to be with him or to carry any burdens. he knows how dangerous his job is, and will occasionally ask you if you're still comfortable with him and everything he does
everytime you say yes, he gets this wide eyed grin and ruffles your hair. a part of him is always afraid of pushing you away, its not easy to date a literal assassin, but the fact that you love him and that you want to be with him amazes striker every time
hes def an acts of service guy through and through, striker's actions always speak louder than anything
because his job is so busy, he sometimes works super late or has to get up ridiculously early. striker often feels pretty bad about his crazy working hours, and always dotes on you if you stay up late waiting for him and kisses you on the cheek everytime he has to leave
HE LIKES TO PLAY MUSIC FOR YOU ON HIS GUITAR AND HE'LL SING SONGS FOR YOU
striker also really enjoys dancing with you, and you two r definitely the type to slow dance in the kitchen sorry i don't make the rules
you're one of the few people he lets touch his cowboy hat, and also the only person who has ever ridden Bombshell besides him <3
he keeps a photo of you in his wallet/jacket and looks at it after rough missions
nsfw
yk the phrase "wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy"? or "save a horse, ride a cowboy?" yea those both were made for him btw
the cowboy hat stays on during sex, but not on him /hj
seriously tho, he loves the sight of you wearing nothing but his hat, and its one of the quickest ways to rile him up
striker LOVES and i mean LOVESSS when you ride him
theres something so exhilarating about seeing you on top, and after a long, stressful mission, there's something so pleasing about just letting you take the reins and ride him senseless
his fav positions are cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, face sitting, missionary, mating press, pretty much anything where he can see your face
striker is big on eye contact, whether hes top or bottom he loves the intimacy of eye contact
he memorizes everything about your body, what makes you tick, where to touch you that will make you moan loudest, your most sensitive spots, he has pleasuring you down to an art
def into bondage and shibari, whether its you tying him up or him tying you up, he loves it
striker likes the intricacies of shibari, but will always check that the ropes aren't too tight (unless you want it that way... in that case he'll indulge you ;)
he is soooo talkative, he loves praising you and degrading you and he talks you through every orgasm
when hes dom, striker is more of a groaner, he'll let out these throaty, deep rumbles and groans while whispering about how fucking good you make him feel in the deepest, most delicious voice ever
when hes in a more submissive mood i think hes a little quieter, he'll let out some breathy pants and moans but won't be super vocal
hes into (consensual) contact play and doesn't mind being pushed around. i also think he'd have a gun kink and would face fuck you with a gun (never loaded tho, you're far too precious to risk hurting)
ORAL FIXATION.
striker loves giving, like hes def a giver 100% and loves it when you ride his face
he wants you to SIT on his face, in his opinion his face is your throne and it doesn't matter how big you are, strikers a strong guy and will take all of your weight without a second thought
hes a gentleman, he makes you cum at least twice during foreplay before he even actually fucks you
striker is into somno, you both have def had convos about him fucking you in your sleep before
he comes home so late for work sometimes, and the sight of you sleeping on the couch, waiting just for him is so adorable
he likes teasing you and hearing you're unfiltered gasps and moans, the way your body responds to his simple touches without even being awake turns him on a lot
striker also loves it when you moan his name in your sleep, he has a secret possessive side and the fact that you're thinking about him even in your dreams is just so hot to him
sometimes though it'll be the other way around, he'll collapse into bed after a long mission, passing out in mere seconds. meanwhile, you creep into bed with him and give him a handjob, watching as he moans and whispers your name like a prayer. he'll hump into your hand, and sometimes he'll cum so hard he'll wake himself up
when you ask him what he was dreaming about he'll chuckle, but the blush on his cheeks gives him away
when hes sub, striker is like the male version of a pillow prince sometimes. he just wants to lay back and be pampered, theres a part of him that just wants to be loved and taken care of
....mommy/daddy/master kink... what? u hear sum?? i will write ab this...
hes a bit into semi-public sex, but wouldn't ever let anyone actually catch you both. you're body is for his eyes and his eyes alone
striker takes his time undressing you and kissing every inch of your body before the foreplay even starts, and sometimes his tail will rattle a little as he does so. hes just so enamored with you, he can't help it
guysgys GUYSSYYSYSYSYSY RUGERHEHEHSSBSSHSH I FUCKING LOVE STRIKER SM HES MY FAVVV!!!! ALSO HELLUVA BOSS IS OPEN FOR REQS !!
im not gonna make a separate masterlist for helluva boss im just gonna add this to my hazbin masterlist ahshsh
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st4rfckerz · 6 months
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Late Night Call | Nerdy!Anakin x Reader
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word count: 1.8k
warnings: MDNI 18+, masturbating (both), voice kink, praise, nerdy!anakin is a whiny little mess.
summary: Your voice is enough to get Anakin all worked up.
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The silence of the night seemed to be swallowing the entire city as Anakin lay sprawled in his bed, staring at the ceiling. With a yawn, Anakin lifted the blocky landline phone off its cradle, the dial tone echoing through the receiver. As he recited the familiar numbers, he couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
"Hello?" a gentle voice answered on the other line.
"Hey, I didn't wake you up did I?" Anakin mumbled into the phone, his voice barely above a whisper. The soft sound of rustling sheets and a yawn came from the other end of the line.
There was a pause before you replied. You knew that voice. "No, you caught me at a good time. What's going on?"
"Oh, well, nothing really I just wanted to talk to you," he stammered, trying to mask his nervousness. "I'm putting off writing this paper too actually," Anakin admits almost sounding like he was ashamed of himself. "I don't know, I just don't feel like its good enough." He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he could feel the small migraine coming in through to temples of his skull.
"Hey, it's alright," your soft voice reassured him from the other side of the line, sending a wave of calm washing over his senses. It was enough to ease his nerves, even if just a little. "You're human, and mistakes happen. You can't expect perfection from yourself all the time."
As the comforting voice continued speaking into the phone, Anakin's breath hitched in his throat. His heartbeat pulsed rapidly in his ears, matching the cadence of the soft whispers. Slowly, the warmth that had started in his chest spread through his limbs, igniting a fire within him. His thoughts raced, his imagination running wild with images of you on the other end of the line, your voice painting vivid pictures in his mind. The soothing voice was a siren song, drawing him in deeper with each passing second.
"What're you writing about anyways?" your voice rings softly through the line. Anakin clenched his eyes shut, his grip on the receiver tightened, as if he could somehow draw strength from the cold plastic. This isn't right, he chided himself, yet he couldn't resist the pull.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, it's about a new tech startup in Silicon Valley, something boring like that." Anakin managed to amswer, his voice cracking slightly. His hand subconsciously rubbed against his crotch, and he discreetly adjusted his pants, feeling the bulge growing bigger. He needed to calm down. Fast.
You hum slightly, the topic taking your interest. "That's sounds intriguing, I'd read it. I'm writing about the use of real fur in the fashion industry." Anakin's heart skipped a beat hearing your reply. Real fur? That sounded controversial, edgy, something that would definitely get you a passing grade.
"Oh, really?" he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you think it's... you know, ethical?"
"Not at all, there's always faux fur y'know?" you scoff. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. This was school-related, he reminded himself sternly. "Well, I mean, if the demand for real fur decreases, the industry will eventually adapt," he reasoned, trying to sound rational. "Plus, there are ways to ensure animal welfare during the process."
"See! You're so good, it's not even your paper and you're already shooting facts." you praise him innocently. God, he could've came in his boxers if he wasn't being so careful. His head was buzzing with ideas of how he might prolong the conversation so that you could carry on speaking. He just needed to hear you voice.
"Thanks." Anakin laughed nervously, trying to deflect the compliment. "So, um... how's everything else been? Anything exciting happening in your life besides your classes?" He couldn't shake the image of you in that little skirt you decided to wear to class the other day, your tits swaying enticingly in the tight sweater you wore. If it was up to him, he would've fucked you in that classroom in front of everyone. His cock twitched in his pants, growing harder by the minute.
"Not really, my roommate's gonna be out of town for a family thing, so I'll have a whole boring week by myself." you explain.
"Oh, really?" Anakin's eyes widened in delight, his heart racing faster than ever. He shifted in his seat, his cock throbbing against his pajama pants "So, uh, want to meet up sometime? Just you and me?" He forced himself to sound innocent, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying his true intentions.
His hand reached down his pants, feeling the head of his cock peeking out from his underwear. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking slowly, trying to calm down. He had to focus on their conversation, at least until she agreed to meet up with him. He inadvertently let a whine slip out of his mouth as he swept his fingers across his sensitive tip.
"Anakin? Are you ok?" you ignore his question. Is he? No, he wouldn't. You think to yourself.
"Y-yeah just keep talking, 'm listening." Anakin stammered. His hand continued to stroke his cock unabashedly, increasing the speed slightly. He was so lost in the mind that he didn't even think about the possibility of you being able to hear the quiet slick sounds coming from his end of the line.
He is.
"Ani, I know what you're doing." you state bluntly. His eyes spring open and his hand slows down its movement on his cock.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't help it, y-you can hang up if you want I just-" he blurts out his words but you instantly interrupt him.
"Why would I want to hang up?"
"What?" Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was sure you'd call him a sick freak and never talk to him again.
"I'm not hanging up," His heart raced wildly, his cock throbbing harder than ever. He couldn't resist your voice. "Does it feel good Ani?"
"Mhm, wish it was you." he admits breathlessly, his fingers tightening around his cock. Anakin's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking about baby." you chide. You could feel your cunt getting increasingly wetter as you continued to speak to him, it makes you squirm as the heat continues to spread through your body.
"Just you, 's always you," he confessed, his voice cracking with lust. "I wanna touch you and taste you everywhere." His hand picked up speed, and his cock twitched violently in his pants.
"You wanna taste me?" you egg him on. His voice sounded so desperate it was almost pathetic.
"Uh huh, I wanna taste you," Anakin's voice trembled with desire. "Everywhere. Mmph- your lips, your neck, your pussy, everywhere."
He couldn't help but wonder how you would sound, how you would taste, how you would react to his advances. His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing violently in his pants. He needed relief, needed you to stop teasing him.
"Are you gonna be a good boy for me Ani?" you whisper, your voice dropping down an octave.
"I'll be anything you want me to be," Anakin panted, his voice hoarse with desire. "Just please keep talking." He couldn't contain himself anymore, his hand moving faster. "I'll do anything you say, just tell me what you want."
"I wanna hear you beg to cum." you demand as you begin to slowly graze your beating clit over your panties, soon dipping your hand underneath them to be met with your soaking cunt. "You're making me so wet Ani." Your fingers swirled little circles against your tiny bud, causing you to let out a small moan.
Anakin groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please, I need it so bad." He couldn't stand it anymore, he had to release the pressure building up inside him. "I'll be good I promise," he pleaded, his voice breaking. Anakin's heart stopped for a moment as he heard the wet sounds coming from the other end. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Mhm, feels so good." you moan as you curl your delicate fingers inside your drooling pussy. His cock jerked in his hand and  his mind filled with images of you fingering yourself.
"Ah- fuck." His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He bit his lower lip, trying to control himself, but his body betrayed him. "I'm close, so close-" he panted. His hips rocked back and forth in sync with each stroke. and he could feel his orgasm building up, he knew it wouldn't be long now. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breathing became shallow and erratic.
"Cum for me pretty boy, I wanna hear you." He couldn't hold it back any longer. With one last hard stroke, he came, his balls tightening and his cock spurting a warm stream of cum onto his blankets. He let out a loud groan, his entire body shaking with pleasure.
You can feel your own orgasm creeping up inside you as you vigorously pumped your fingers into your cunt. "Shit Ani 'm cumming!" you squeal. Anakin's eyes widened, a low growl escaping his lips as he heard you ride out your orgasm. His chest heaved, little beads of sweat trickled down his face as he tried to catch his breath.
For a moment, you both sat there, panting and recovering from your orgasms. Then, finally, Anakin found the courage to speak again. "We should... we should probably hang up, huh?" he said hesitantly.
"I guess we could," you chuckle at his awkwardness. "I'm tired now." Anakin smiled weakly, wiping away the remaining streaks of sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. He looked at his watch, noting the time. "There's no way I'm finishing this paper tonight." He laughs at himself.
"Me neither, I'll do it eventually." you smile at his awkwardness, you always found it cute. "Will I be seeing you in Callahan's tomorrow?" you ask him, hoping he'll be there waiting on you with an empty seat next to his like always.
Anakin chuckled softly, feeling a bit embarrassed but relieved. He quickly cleaned himself up and took in a deep breath. "Yep, I'll be there," he replied, his voice steady once again. "Maybe we could grab coffee afterwards? If you're free, that is."
There was silence on the line before you spoke, but he hoped you'd accept his invitation. He needed to see you again, to be near you.
"That sounds great Anakin." you beam.
He smiled, grateful for the chance to talk to you without all the tension hanging over them. "See you tomorrow, then." he added, his voice friendly and casual.
You said your goodbyes and Anakin ended the call, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. As he hung up the phone, he glanced down at his sticky pants, a small smile playing on his lips. He couldn't wait for tomorrow's class.
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938 notes · View notes
rinhaler · 6 months
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I Guess I Can't State My Feelings Too Soon
Your big brother is jealous and he hates himself for it :(
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ step brother!taiju shiba x f!reader
Genre: porn! (minimal plot) Notes: my first tokyorev fic since i moved blogs wheeee did NOT think it would be taiju but i cannot stop thinking about that man Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, stepcest!, jealousy ♡, possessiveness, co-dependency, virgin!reader, male masturbation ♡, sex toys ♡, porn consumption, panty theft ♡, unhealthy relationship, power dynamics. Words: 3.5k
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He often wonders if you realise how ungrateful you come across, sometimes. Not only ungrateful, but disrespectful to boot.
Do you know how hard your big brother works? You’ll say you do, if he were to ask. But he’s sure you have no idea. He shielded you from the horrors of his world as you were thrust upon him out of nowhere. His new, beautiful step-sister who’s eyes would spill tears around raised voices. What choice did he have? You’d never understand or be able to comprehend his way of life or the world he had built for himself and his family.
As your other siblings grew up and drifted away, Taiju kept you dependent on him. He made it so you had to rely on him for everything. He’s putting you through fashion school while subsidizing your very existence. He keeps you fed and clothed all in the comfort of his beautiful penthouse.
You want for nothing.
And he’s never made you feel inadequate for your obvious dependency.
He doesn’t use it as a weapon or hold it against you. He just adores you, wholly. His beautiful little sister, the sweet little darling who needs her big brother to do everything for her. It motivates him, truthfully. When things feel hard, mundane, tedious, he reminds himself who he’s doing it for.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Takashi.” you smile, giddily, waving like a schoolgirl with a crush as you watch him leave.
He waves, too. A wide grin on his face as his eyes scrunch up with joy. It soon fades, though, as he finds himself accidentally walking right into your brother’s chest. Taiju’s expression harrows, though you don’t register it as you focus on the way Takashi smiles at you before excusing himself.
You’re ungrateful, and disrespectful.
His neck and jaw jerk as he tears off his tie. He’s visibly irritated, but you’re too naïve to realise. You greet him, excitedly, though you’re soon left feeling dejected when he opts to ignore you instead.
“Get me some wine from the cellar.” he demands. Without a please or even a glance in your direction, you know something is wrong. You’ve never been one to deny him, however, slinking away to the lounge to retrieve an aged red from the wall-built cellar.
He looks at you when you return, sliding the bottle to him across the marble countertop of the kitchen island separating you. It’s a brief look, that makes your heart throb with hurt. He’s mad at you, but you don’t know why. Soft yellow eyes that only offer gentle glances are showing you a side to your brother you didn’t know existed.
His pupils are almost slitted like a wild animal, eyes you’ve never seen before where your brother is concerned. He sighs, watching the cogs clank in your brain as you try and analyse who this man is before you.
Luckily for you, he doesn’t think he’s capable of staying angry with you.
“Would you like a drink, little sister?” he questions. It stops you from thinking, momentarily.
It’s a first. He’s never let you drink before, let alone his prized cellar wine. You take a seat on the bar stool regardless, nodding excitedly at the prospect of having your first real drink with your favourite brother. He twists off the lid and slides the glass he’d gotten for himself over to you.
Your heart rate quickens as his eyes, those same, predatory eyes, remain fixated on you as he pours. The wine spills like blood, sloshing into your glass until it’s halfway full. And somehow, without even watching what he’s doing, he managed to not spill a drop.
He takes off his blazer and sets it down on the counter. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves and turns away from you to fetch another glass for himself. His muscles flex and you see his exposed, veiny arms sheen with sweat as he reaches up to grab the nearest glass.
“Pour it for me.” he tells you, setting it down as he turns to face you again. His eyes seem tired, now, but still unfamiliar to you. And so you find yourself nodding, doing exactly what your big brother has asked as your hairline begins to form beads of sweat.
You don’t look at him, not even briefly, as you start to pour. You’re slow and patient, but you feel him staring at you all the while. And it’s menacing. Even with patience and focus, you spill a drop onto the pristine marble.
“I’m sorry,” you tell him.
You move to find something to wipe it up with, but he stops you before you can even jump down from the stool. He presses his thick thumb into the cherry red liquid, seemingly absorbing it all before he raises it to his lips. You watch keenly as your brother’s tongue juts seductively from his lips before he meticulously licks over the pad of his thumb to taste it.
He clears his throat and leans across countertop.
You feel so small.
“Was that your boyfriend?” he wonders, eyes glued to you as he speaks with a low, gravelly tone. He sips soon after, making mental notes of your responses as you process his words.
“U-Um, no, Taiju,” you shake your head. You feel blistering heat in your face as you think about your classmate, and the intimate thoughts you’ve had about him for weeks now, all while your brother’s attention is entirely fixed on you. “We’re in the same class! He came to drop off some books he thought might help me.”
It’s a confession that is entirely the truth. He isn’t your boyfriend and you’re sure he never will be. Not unless he makes the first move, that is. You’re far too shy to even suggest that your feelings for him a more intense than they should be for simple classmates. Taiju nods, finally looking away from you as he takes another drink.
“Finish up and go to bed.” he commands.
You nod, too nervous to argue. You’ve never seen him like this or even heard him be so curt with you. It won’t bother you to go to bed, not one bit. Hopefully tomorrow he’ll be back to his usual, loving self.
He leaves you alone as he strides towards his study, finally giving you the chance to breathe. You knock back the remainder of your wine and pick up your book bag and school supplies, your pace hastening as you get closer to your room.
“Oi.” Taiju speaks, voice booming through the hallway before you can open the door to your bedroom. He leans against the doorframe to his office, arms folded as his eyes squint at you. “If you want to have people over, clear it with me first.” he demands.
“Oh,” you sigh, and it’s riddled with relief as you realise that is what the problem has been all along. He’s upset you’ve invited a stranger into his home without asking. It’s understandable, and you’re soon smiling again as you look at him. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind.” you admit, regretting it almost instantly as it soon feels irrelevant to have said.
“I don’t want boys I don’t know here alone with my little sister.” he tells you.
He approaches, and your anxiety soars once again as you sense a looming threat in the air and the shortening distance between the two of you. He smirks as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, your breath hitching at the contact while he forces you to look into his saffron gaze.
“You are very dear to me,” he confesses, “If anyone were to take advantage of you… well. You’re going to do as I ask next time, aren’t you? We won’t have to worry about that.”
“Of course… I’m so sorry, I should have—”
“You should.” he snarls. “But I forgive you. Go to bed, now.”
You nod, feeling slightly more upbeat after hearing he’s accepted your apology. He stops you from retreating to your room, though. His large, heavy hand encasing your forearm in a tight grip whilst his thumb still caresses your chin. It drifts, though, pulling the fat of your lower lip before he pulls it away. He taps his own lip twice, his expression still unamused as he looks at you.
“A goodnight kiss, princess,” he orders. You nod, it’s not out of the ordinary to kiss him goodnight. You stand on your tip toes before leaning in to peck his lips. They’re soft, and fit against yours beautifully as both of your eyes close during the contact. It’s chaste, to the point, and yet you’ve never felt an intensity during a kiss from him like you have just now.
His eyes are gentle, again. And the smile he offers is earnest. He kisses your cheek before you go, whispering in your ear sensually enough for a chill to traverse down your spine.
“Good girl.”
He opens the door to your room, remaining in place until you go inside. He shuts it after you get inside, leaning his back against the nearest wall as his head thuds against it. The cold metal of his rings cools down his flushed face, though he finds himself breathless.
Not from the act of a simple kiss, it’s the shame. Feelings for you, his sweet little sister, bubbling to the surface despite trying to repress them for so many years. He’s jealous and he’s ashamed of himself for letting things go this far. But you are his.
His sister.
His responsibility.
His property.
“Jesus Christ—”
He catches himself. He kicks away from the wall and rakes his fingers through tousled hair as he decides to distract himself with work in his office.
It’s taken blood and sweat to reach what he’s achieved. From being a sixteen year old menace to society, he’s now a highly respectable businessman with a chain of restaurants under his belt. Among other, less legal sources of income, of course.
It’s all for you.
As he looks through business expenses and documents from his lawyers, all he can think of is you.
It’s all been for you.
It’s always been for you.
He pushes his hair out of his face, noticing how it’s starting to cling to his forehead as he sweats profusely. Thoughts of you plaguing his every thought. His cock begins to throb in his slacks. His eyes drift from the papers scattered across his desk to his computer monitor. And then, slowly, they sink to the locked top drawer of his desk.
“Fuck,” he mutters. He ignores the drawer, instead, deciding to ignore his responsibilities as he types Pornhub in the search engine. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he speaks, exasperated as the homepage is flooded with an assortment of trending step sibling videos.
His heart pounds as he scrolls for a while, but eventually finds the willpower to click away, opting to find something else. He’s a simple man with simple taste. He’s always been into rougher stuff, deciding something along those lines will be best to quickly rub one out and clear his mind so he can focus on what he actually needs to be getting on with.
He clicks on a video, immediately cringing at the corny plot and dialogue as he unbuttons his shirt and rids himself of his belt. He’s panting as he pulls out his cock. If he’s been honest, his cock has been leaking since you fetched his wine so obediently.
He hisses when he realises he’s thinking about you again.
And soon enough he’s willing himself to concentrate on the girl in the video getting fucked within an inch of her life. It’s loud, rough, aggressive. Just how he likes. He tugs desperately, a vein popping in his forehead as he eagerly tries to get off to what he’s seeing.
It’s your fault.
He’s wondering if you’d ever be into fucking like this. He’s sure you’re a virgin, so he’d have to be careful with you at first.
“Fucking stop,” he whines.
He wants to cum to her, the girl in the video. It’s a lie, though. He wants to cum to you. He wants to hear how gorgeous you’d sound if he were the one to defile you for your very first time. Your own step brother, infiltrating your walls and making you cum around his cock.
“Shit,” he keeps trying to concentrate on her. His eyes soon wandering to the locked drawer again. He glances one final time at the video, grunting as he continues to fuck his fist until ultimately giving up.
He searches something new. Something he’s never beat one off to before. Softcore virgin. He grimaces as his finger hovers above the enter key, he knows he won’t be able to finish otherwise, but part of him thinks it’s not too late to turn back. His eyes widen slightly, taken aback by the sheer amount of results that are step-sibling videos. He considers it, again. He really does, but as he continues to scroll, he starts to take an interest in the masturbation videos.
The soft, feminine moans immediately make his cock jump. It’s perfect, it’s so sickeningly perfect because he can pretend it’s you. And if he’s this far gone, he feels no need to deprive himself anymore. He lifts up his keyboard, sliding the locked drawer key from a hidden compartment underneath. His hands are practically shaking as he tries to slide it into the slot. He quickly turns, breathing heavily as he almost rips the drawer from its place as he opens it.
He scoffs as his hand flies to a clear fleshlight, yanking it out and setting it down on his desk before he retrieves what he’s really been avoiding this whole time.
You’ve never had to do laundry, and he doesn’t do it either. He hires staff to come through the week to do tedious things like cleaning the apartment and washing dirty clothes. It’s been about a fortnight since he saw an opportunity laid bare before him.
You were at school, a fact now he’s growing to despise as he imagines you flirting with Takashi Mitsuya during your classes. But he was working from home, too irritated to handle business dealings in person on that particular Thursday. And he happened to see a maid emerge from your room with a laundry basket, a frilly pink thong atop a pile of outfits you’d worn through the week to college.
He wrestled with himself, he did.
But it wasn’t too difficult to distract the maid for long enough to pocket them for himself.
The video continues to play, his cock gushing as he stares down at your panties. He’s too far gone. He’s too aroused and his mind is muddied as he thinks about everything going on in his life and yours. You’re too honest to lie, Mitsuya isn’t your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he’ll never be.
He snatches the thong and strokes his cock with it in hand. His eyes roll back, a broken moan leaving his lips as he continues to pleasure himself. He stops abruptly, though, as the woman in the video he’s watching stops teasing her clit. She shows off a dildo, slowly rubbing it through her wet folds until she eventually begins to push it inside of herself.
She’s cute, but she isn’t you.
If he closes his eyes, however, she is. He looks to his fleshlight, deeming this the closest he’ll get to fucking you no matter how desperately he yearns for it. He carefully guides his tip into the plastic pussy, moaning a little louder than intended as he bottoms out.
He bites his lip as he recalls the woman in the store squeezing her thighs together as she helped him pick the toy out. It makes him laugh, briefly, as he recalls how forward she had been. He fucked her in the changing rooms as she insisted she’d need to see what he was packing so that she could help him pick the perfect model.
She sent him away with the biggest size.
Your pussy won’t feel like this, though. He’s certain you won’t be so generous and accommodating. Your tight little virgin cunt will fight against him, but he’ll make it fit.
“Jesus, fuck—” he groans, admitting defeat for the final time as he brings your panties to his face and almost suffocates himself with the material.
His chest swells as he inhales, before it deflates with shuddering breaths as he savours the scent of your used unmentionables. He picks up the pace with his toy in tandem with the woman in the video. His moans are boisterous and uncaring, he’s lost the ability to feel shame as he imagines you bouncing on his cock crying his name and trying to become accustomed to his length.
He needs it more than air.
He needs it more than he needs to fucking breathe.
“Shit, ah—” he grunts, he bites his lip as he continues to pound into the fucktoy in his grip. He grunts stridently as he spurts into the fleshlight. He watches through heavy, lidded eyes at the clear plastic, watching how his balls tighten and deposit his creamy load into the faux pussy. “Fuck, Taiju.” he sighs, but laughs as he slowly begins to stroke himself with the toy. He hisses, feeling sensitive from his release as he milks himself of every last drop he can drain.
He exhales breathlessly once he’s done. His chest rising and falling as he allows his body to melt into his leather chair. He looks around the room, and he looks at himself. The crushing reality of what he’s just done weighs down on him. He’s spent, but finds enough energy to put your panties back in the drawer, locking it promptly.
The fleshlight, on the other hand, he leaves out after making space for it on his desk. He winces as it rolls and his sperm begins to drip out onto the glossy, chestnut tabletop. The comedown from is euphoria is like reaching a new low. He can’t even bear to look at the scene of his filthy indiscretion any longer.
But as he’s about to stand, the door swings open.
“Taiju?” you pout.
He scrambles to hide his exposed lower half under his desk and dump some of the papers littering his desk over the sticky fleshlight. He can’t hide the grimace on his face as the corner of one of his documents begin dampen from his cum.
“O-Oh, sorry, I forgot to knock… I should have knocked.”
“Yes, you should.” He says, gruffly, “What is it?”
You’re quiet, allowing your sock covered foot to glide across the wood flooring as you awkwardly look down at them. It’s not like you’re scared to talk to your brother, but you know he doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s in here. And you don’t want to embarrass him.
“Answer.” his order startles you, his voice almost thunderous as he commands your attention. Your eyes fill with water, but you bat the tears away as you speak.
“I thought I heard you yelling. Or… in pain.” you tell him, voice below a whisper as you confess you’ve been unintentionally listening. “I thought you might have hurt yourself.”
Pink dusts over his face, you can even see it from only the light of the monitor. He looks around, suspiciously, though you don’t notice or comment on it.
“Why were you listening to me? Can’t you sleep?” he wonders. “… Don’t worry. I’m fine.” he assures you.
“I was worried. A-About earlier. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me… I promise I haven’t got a boyfriend and I’ll never bring anyone here without permission again.”
He smirks at that, all of his teeth bared and you still don’t understand what kind of sick depraved man your big brother really is. Maybe you aren’t as ungrateful or disrespectful as he thought; it was wrong of him to even assume that when you’ve been nothing but a doll the whole time he’s known you.
You poor thing.
You’ve been fretting over your brother’s wellbeing and state of mind since he sent you to bed so long ago. He’s been on your mind this whole time. You’re more like your big brother than you even realise, he thinks.
You’re so timid.
So obedient.
So good.
“You must be so tired, princess…” he coos, and you nod dumbly. He tuts, feeling sorry for your innocent nature and naivety, but sweet little you thinks he’s sympathetic to your exhaustion. “Do you want me to help you sleep? Shall I play with your hair like I used to when we were younger?”
“Really?” you ask, eyes lighting up at the proposition.
“Of course,” he nods, grinning wildly. “What are big brothers for?”
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© 2024 rinhaler
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574 notes · View notes
onsunnyside · 2 years
Note
So I stumbled over this and I just... Can you imagine cam daddy!Ari and shy!reader, coaxing her to do a stream with him, just so he can show off those big hands? Reader would be doing him such a big favour, her face won't be in it, he'll just touch her a little, "That's fine, right, bunny? Can you do this favour for me, I promise I'll be gentle..." (he adds "at first" quietly to himself because MMMPH he'd go wild for her eventually)
this is going in the fic 😵‍��� what if I just… post the masterlist so all the asks are easy to find 🌚 totally not bc the fic is coming soon
it's the first time you're on camera, but you aren't showing your face. Just dressed in a cozy sweater and fuzzy socks, biting on the hem of your sweater to hold it up and "show everyone your pretty cunt, baby." You watch yourself through the screen, you can't read the comments without your glasses so Ari does it for you: "they're talking about how cute you sound, how small you are compared to me... someone asked if I have to force myself into your little hole."
"H-He does..." You manage, whining when he pushes away your hand to rub your swollen nub, his fingers slowly thrusting into you, "he sometimes goes slow, but I-I like it when it hurts."
"She cries when it's just the tip—it's 'cause I tease her." His beard brushes your cheek, his lips pressing soft kisses along your tear-stained skin, "she's just my little baby, my sweet dummy. Crying when daddy won't fuck you, rubbing your face all over my cock when you're needy," he laughs at a comment, "yeah, yeah, she gets real dumb. Can't even remember her own name."
He curls his fingers and hits that spot, and you cry out, your sweater dropping from your mouth. You almost fall over right there, but his other arm keeps you up and pinned against his bare chest.
"No, you won't see her like that tonight. This is just a test run, seeing if she likes it." He talks as if you aren't there, trembling on his fingers and making the most pathetic sounds. He lifts your sweater and places it between your teeth again, giving the viewers that filthy view of your drippy pussy, "and you like it, baby? You like all these people watching you cum all over daddy's fingers?"
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kedsandtubesocks · 8 months
Text
your heart, a sonnet
Author!Joel Miller x F!Reader
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summary: you discover there’s more to your boyfriend than you realize
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, surprise hidden identity reveal, grumpy but soft!Joel who has a secret love language of writing and love letters, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s), light discussion of reader and Joel’s insecurities, reader is addressed as darlin/honey/baby, a few spicy moments where Joel gets handsy
word count: 5.3k
a/n: I know, I know… this doesn’t seem like the typical Joel fic but i blame Pedro’s look at the Hollywood star walk of fame ceremony because it immediately made me think ‘oh that’s Joel’ and now here we are lol I couldn’t have done this without my forever babe @the-wild-wolves-around-you and i can’t thank her enough along with @ahauntedcowboy for always letting me scream about all my wild ideas, and now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡
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You first met Joel at a bookstore.
The weekend after your birthday you went in to treat yourself and wandered into the records section of the store. As you flipped through the selections, the sudden sight of a Fleetwood Mac album had you inhaling sharply in surprise.
“S’good one.” That’s when the sudden smooth drawl of a southern accent floated out to you.
A few steps beside you stood an absolutely gorgeous man. The evergreen plaid button up shirt he wore flattered him as if it was made to be only worn by him. Rugged and distinguished, he seemed like a romance hero plucked straight out from one of the books among the shelves. You even blinked a few times wondering if he was real.
“If you don’t take it, might have to fight ya for it.” Even with his gruff low voice, an underlying teasing nature radiated friendly and light.
Now, many months later, a piece of you believes you might have fallen for him right then and there.
Joel is a rare beautiful soul of a man. He’s strong and a bit rough around the edges. He used to work as a contractor, even managed to build a very reputable business with his brother. His hard work remains effortlessly etched into his hands that now type editing books, his current job. He’s kind, so deeply loyal and loves fiercely.
With a yawn, you slip out of bed to pull on his cozy Texas longhorn shirt.
Heading downstairs, you walk among the clouds.
Instead of working at his office desk, Joel sits at the dining table typing away. Just seeing him wear his reading glasses sends a delicious desire trickling through you like a soft rain.
His dark earth eyes flicker up over the edge of his laptop and his gaze softens.
“Was wonderin’ when you were gonna wake up.” His wonderfully smooth as molasses voice makes you want to get caught up in its sticky sweetness.
“It’s not even that late. You’re one who woke up wanting to get work done on a Saturday.” You scoff playfully yet press your lips to his, a soft good morning greeting.
“Besides…who’s the reason I slept in so soundly, hm?” You smile against Joel’s lips that now twitch with a smirk.
His large warm hand slowly creeps up against your bare leg and rubs soft against your skin. After a few sleepy kisses, Joel’s tongue smoothly slips into your mouth trying to now consume you with a syrupy heat.
Joel pulls you down onto his lap. Your hands run up his chest to his cherub curly gray hair. His lips leave yours to start nipping at your jaw.
“What happened to working, cowboy?” You sigh softly.
“Come keep me company, darlin’.” He breathes out and any hope of maybe making breakfast is happily forgotten.
The rest of the morning unfolds at a nebulous pace you bask in.
When a late brunch is finished and you start cleaning up the kitchen, Joel’s warm solid hands map out your hips with other plans in mind. He slides behind you, a towering comfort that you lean back against.
“You’re extra handsy today Mr. Miller.” You tease.
“I can stop?” Joel offers while his scruffy beard scrapes a path against your skin. Against you, his broad shoulders, his wonderfully built frame, wraps you in his protective cover.
You hum a content no and move your hands over his now.
“Just wanna enjoy being with ya before I get busy.” Joel mutters while his hand slides down your cozy lounge shorts.
You had forgotten about his upcoming work plans.
You already want to mourn the impending weekend without him, but that can wait for another day. Especially when his thick fingers delicately, so sinfully, run up and down your underwear playfully touching you.
But then that weekend arrives and it brings a hollowness.
Lounging on the couch back at the apartment you share with your best friend, you force yourself not to text Joel again. He’s busy and you know this. So you vow to hold all your yearning and longing chained inside like a Jane Austen heroine.
“Are you done sulking?” Your best friend teases from the kitchen and you glare at her from the couch.
“I get it, being awake from your hunky handsome older boyfriend is hard. What will you ever do?” She snickers playfully. You’re tempted to throw the nearby couch pillows at her.
“What did you say his job was?” She asks.
“He used to be a contractor, but now he’s a book editor.” You answer.
“A hardworking hot Texas cowboy who reads and is a good man? Yeah, keep him locked up.” Your best snorts and you understand exactly what she means.
Fanged temptation claws at you more to text him again. Joel promised he would call you tonight and you don’t doubt him. But you didn’t realize how badly you’d missed him.
“Alright,” your best friend declares. “No more moping! I’m dragging you out with me to that book signing I’ve been talking about.”
She’s been obsessed with this apocalyptic novel series for so long. You happily tag along and even perk up when you see how excited she gets.
“And the author is finally doing a book tour! He’s kept his identity hidden this entire time so I wanna get a chance to maybe just even see him!” Your best friend gushes the entire time she drives you both to the bookstore the signing would be held.
Just so happens it’s the same bookstore where you first met Joel. A deep surge of affection swallows you whole and you float on blissful lovesick nostalgia.
Then the impressive line already waiting outside the front doors stuns you.
“I told you! It’s a big deal! Plus the series is so good.” Your best friend exclaims. She has been trying to get you into the series for a while.
The core of it focuses on two young girls who manage to survive an apocalyptic fungal zombie outbreak. The series follows the girls growing up, the journey to live with each other, and how it slowly bonds them as sisters.
“I heard they’re trying to make a Netflix series on it.” Your friend adds hopeful.
You can’t help but snag your best friend’s book copy she also hopes will get signed. Flipping through the front pages you land to the dedication page.
“To my baby girls, this will always be for you two.”
The author must have based the series on their daughters. That’s adorable.
Now curious, you flip to the first chapter.
“After seeing the end of the world, after witnessing the carnage of life consume itself, Ellie thinks she’s seen it all.”
Your best friend's sudden excited laugh pulls you out of the book. She’s talking with the other fans in line and you decide to join in.
Everyone discusses how worth the wait will be and how most of them even purchased the newest released book to make sure they reserved a slot for the signing.
“So why’s the author finally doing a face reveal?” You ask quietly not wanting to seem too out of place.
“So apparently,” your best friend begins in her hush about to spill the good gossip voice. “Some random ass moron on Twitter came out and said they were the true author. It became a whole messy issue of who it really was.”
Your best friend goes into more detail about how even a couple of online sites had articles on it.
“That’s awful.” You sympathize with the author. It must’ve been a headache trying to enjoy the peace of anonymity only for it becoming something used against them. You can only imagine how heartbreaking it was to see others steal and take credit for your work.
Like a surprise strike of lightning, an electric excitement suddenly breaks through the air.
Glancing up, you watch the line rapidly move towards the front doors. Time to go in.
Unfortunately, the main seating for the reading and q&a fills up fast. The bookstore though manages to wrangle the remainder of the crowd that can fit on the first floor towards a section where they can watch. It’s more than enough for your best friend who’s about to burst with anticipation. The buoyant commotion in the room even pulls you into its current and you get excited to see the new surprise author.
Soon a chic handsome older looking man, the moderator of the event, scurries to the front of the gathered group.
Warmly he begins the introduction to the writer.
First, writing sweet children’s books, stories for his daughters, those works became the author’s first publications. After that he navigated apocalyptic writing and his hit series has earned critical acclaim.
“Simply known as the anonymous writer J Miller. I’ve had the greatest pleasure to know this man as both his friend and now agent and I’m beyond proud to introduce him to you. Everyone please help me in welcoming J Miller!”
The thunderous applause and screams of excitement galvanize the entire room.
Then Joel walks out from the side.
Your heart instantly leaves your body.
For a moment you think your lovesick yearning heart has you slightly projecting Joel in any man you might see.
But the minute you focus, truly watch him slide into the chair, you see him.
Soft gray grown out curls, a strong beautiful nose, the patchy beard with the spots you love to kiss, and his reading glasses - the ones he’s so self conscious about because of how they make him look “so good damn old,” yet you love how they distinguish and elevate his appearance. You even remember the first time Joel wore them while he read waiting for you.
Truth makes its way into your heart.
It’s Joel.
The famous mystery author is your Joel.
“Thanks Frank.” And when he takes the mic, thanking his agent, his slick southern sunset voice melts the crowd.
“So, uh he’s gorgeous?!” Someone behind you squeals.
“Who would’ve thought he’d be this hot?!” Someone adds.
The whispers and mummers swarm like wasps buzzing all around you and you want to swat at them.
You can’t wrap your mind around this or the amount of emotions rushing through you. You feel separated from your body, floating detached from the scene and trying to gather yourself back.
Why didn’t he tell you?
Did he not trust you?
Joel suddenly laughs at something Frank says, that gruff wonderful laugh you hear after you show him a ridiculous video or his daughters tease him. It snaps you back into awareness.
“He’s about to read a section!” Your friend giddily whispers under her breath
Now you fully focus on this man, this almost stranger.
He’s so handsome it isn’t fair. He looks like a distinguished professor and your throat tightens seeing how broad his shoulders look in the dark casual suit jacket he wears.
“One of my favorite parts.” He admits quietly. “It’s when Ellie and Sarah realize they can make it outta Pittsburgh together.”
His daughters. He named his characters after them.
Joel clears his throat and begins.
He reads the passage with a magnetic cadence. The words slip from him like the smooth drink of whiskey that lingers on your tongue. When he finishes, an ache twists in your chest.
The applause he gets is shatteringly loud. The smallest bit of pride does float through you. But confusion drowns it out.
The floor now opens to quick questions. Some are about the book itself and the certain decisions made writing wise. Others are obviously about why he stayed hidden for so long.
That one perks you up quickly.
In such typical Joel fashion, he shrugs.
“Just couldn’t figure out Twitter, s’all.”
Everyone laughs at his playful reply and you do as well, but it sounds hollow and watery.
Soon enough the last question arrives.
“Do you ever see yourself writing for any other genres? I mean, we’ve seen horror and some moments of romance in the series. So I’m just curious if you’d write anything else?!” The lady asks brightly and now you simply settle your thoughts aside to listen.
Joel chuckes, a bit breathless and his gaze drops. This entire time he’s teetered between a sly southern charm that’s hypnotized you, to being guarded almost a bit nervous.
But now a boyishly hesitant grin falls over him and it’s so familiar.
”Uh, guess romance would be the next I’d maybe try.” He answers low, bashful.
The crowd erupts into fangirl like shrieks.
“Right?! I keep saying he doesn’t know the potential he has if he became a romance writer!” Frank, who has such a bright and lovely personality, adds.
Too many emotions clash in you.
You wonder if he wants to explore romance writing because of you?
Or a much harsher voice creeps out from the back of your mind whispering maybe you’re just being used for source material.
You quickly stomp those thoughts away.
The rest of the event shifts to the signing and you walk in a sort of guided daze.
“You okay?” Your best friend asks gently, noticing your slight mood change.
You don’t have the heart to tell her the truth yet. This was something she had been looking forward to and you didn’t want to ruin her excitement or experience. So you wearily just smile and tell her your head simply started hurting.
She sympathetically nods.
“Thankfully we won’t be waiting too long.” She adds and explains how the signing would be called by groups.
“We might not have gotten seats, but we did manage to sneak into group A for the signing.” She grins proud and it lifts your spirits.
The line curls against the sides of the bookshelves blocking your view of Joel. It becomes both a blessing and a curse.
Maybe you should wait in the car for his and your sake?
However, something inside you slightly bitter, raw and wanting answers, decides to stay. Besides you, your dear friend tries to keep herself calm but you can sense her bubbling nervous energy.
“I’d be calmer if he wasn’t so damn attractive.” She hisses and a jealous flare gently rises in you.
“Just think,” you reassure her. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.”
The relieved comforted grin she gives you makes staying worth it. But then all of that flies out the window the closer and closer you get to Joel.
Petrified dread claws its way in when you realize your best friend is next in line.
“He looks kinda familiar now that we’re closer.” The casual comment your friend says makes your heart sink.
“Maybe.” You mutter.
The times Joel has been to your place your roommate, your best friend, has been either at work or sleeping. You can only think of the first instant you introduce Joel to her when he picked you up on a date.
Your eyes flicker straight to Joel.
His hair seems so perfectly curled and his dark jacket highlights his wonderful grays.
Thankfully, any discussion of who he might look like gets squashed because your best friend gets called next in line. She turns to you squeaking excitedly and you beam back bright.
Joel lifts his eyes up, like a true southern gentleman wanting to give someone his full attention.
You wait on the side and watch the interaction unfold. Joel chuckles at something your best friend says and you’re glad she’s enjoying herself.
The book signing is done so fast. In a blink, it’s finished. With her newly signed book, your friend turns to you. She makes a slightly embarrassing but endearing noise of excitement that has you laughing.
That’s when your eyes flicker over to Joel and your gaze locks with his.
Instantly, Joel’s handsome face drops. His gorgeous earth eyes widen as he immediately recognizes you. His mouth falls open slightly and a flash of something close to fear fills the depths of his eyes.
He breathes out your name on a shaky exhale.
Everything seems to slow and stop. You don’t know what to say. So all you do is weakly smile.
The fleeting moment fades. The next group in line already giggles moving towards the table.
Time’s up. Turning on your heels to leave with your friend, Joel calls out to you, calls your name.
“Wait!”
You freeze.
Glancing back at him, Joel’s eyes pin you on the spot. An unspoken heaviness hangs in his deep eyes while he stares intently at you.
“It’s okay, we’ll talk later.” By some strange possession of slight bravery, or maybe delusion, you manage to speak.
But it’s all you can say and it’s all you can do before Frank, Joel’s agent, slides in to whisper something to him.
The moment again shatters.
Your best friend however grills you the rest of the day
That’s when you pull out your phone. You show her a photo you secretly took of Joel. It’s one where he’s adorably glaring at his ipad while he tried ordering take out for dinner.
Your best friend shrieks. “He’s your boyfriend?!”
He is.
Your boyfriend, Joel, is a writer, a very famous best selling author.
And that weight yanks you under a dangerous current you can’t seem to swim against.
Even after lunch, even getting back to your apartment and trying to settle your thoughts, your emotions are still so tangled.
You mindlessly scroll through your phone for the rest of the day and a blink, you notice it’s already early evening. Your plan to stay sulking is ruined when your phone starts ringing so loud.
It’s Joel.
“Hello?” You answer as composed as you can.
“Darlin?” His beautiful rich voice sounds hesitant and guarded.
“Hi.” You reply back quietly.
“Can we talk?” He asks just as low.
You agree, expecting to have the discussion on the phone. Except a knock taps on your apartment door and scares you right out of your body.
Ever proactive, ever the man who takes action, Joel stands waiting for you when you open the door.
You’re thankful more than ever that your best friend went to the gym for the evening.
“Wanna sit outside for a bit? Maybe get some air? S’really nice outside today.” He offers gentle.
He’s breaking up with you. That’s what your mind jumps to.
At least the weather is surprisingly kind this early evening.
You’ve sat out here on your apartment’s decent sized balcony with Joel before. But now the energy between you and him shifts strangely.
The sky stretches above a soft sherbet orange. A breeze comes, thankfully not too cold, but you think about maybe heading in to grab a blanket.
Joel however quickly slings off his jacket and drapes it over you. Always the gentleman.
The smell of his cologne, so comforting and masculine, wraps around you like a cloud.
You thank him with a soft small smile and Joel nods. Then he sighs and leans forward on the folding chair.
“Always loved the outdoors.” He begins, a small olive branch of a conversation to break the tension. “The girls and I love hiking the trails out by the lake. You ever been?”
You shake your head no.
“Maybe one day we can all go together.” The comment holds hope, a delicate thread of it. Yet you catch the hesitation.
Your eyes flicker to him, confused and cautious.
“Wait, you aren’t breaking up with me?” You blurt out, maybe just wanting to get it over with. You hate the way your voice cracks slightly.
Joel, with his beautiful concerned wide eyes, snaps his face to you.
“What? Honey no. Thought maybe you’d be the one maybe tryin’ to break up with me.” Joel, who Sarah jokes about how some of their neighbors question if he’s perpetually grumpy, stares at you with a tenderness that melts you to your core.
You can’t help but laugh watery.
“Why d’ya think I’d want to end things with you?” He asks patiently.
You can think of so many.
He’s a famous writer who’s about to maybe become an online sensation. He’s older than you, wiser and seasoned. He’s a full on father with young teenage daughters.
So you reveal your heart to him and all the fears that dwell in its shadows. You wipe away a few tears that manage to spill out.
Joel moves to hold your hands in his, a guarded warmth and protection keeping you stable.
With a heavy sigh, Joel’s attention fully focused on you.
“Honey…I’m so sorry for not telling you about my work, about me, sooner.” He earnestly apologizes and his words drip with comforing earnesty.
Now his gaze drops down to where your hand sits in his.
“Didn’t want it complicatin’ things with us. I knew I had to tell you eventually. But really…I was worried you’d see me differently once you knew. I know I don’t seem like the writin’ type anyway.” He mutters and you miss the hint of embarrassment coloring his tone.
You squeeze his hands.
This could never make you look at Joel in a negative light. If anything, you now feel proud knowing he’s a writer. You do explain your worries though and the ache you felt knowing he kept his from you.
“I know darlin’ and I promise,” he squeezes your hands now. “No more secrets between us.”
“You…us…means more to me than you’ll know.” He adds and you draw his hands up to your mouth.
You kiss his worn hands, his hard working beautiful hands that now move to hold your face so tenderly in their grasp. His thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately as if you’ll disappear from his sight.
“Can I kiss ya baby?”
You nod and in that same breath Joel pulls you towards him. He kisses you light, delicate enough that you feel so precious and treasured within his hold.
It seems like such a simple small kiss but it soaks into your bones.
You have so many questions. And as much as you’d like to make out with your boyfriend on the balcony, you’d like answers.
So you pull away and stand up.
Joel looks adorable as confusion paints his face.
“Don’t worry I’m just getting us a blanket.” You grin at him as you sling on his jacket claiming it as your own.
Blanket in hand you now curl up with him in the lawn chair, thankful for its sturdiness and cozy size. Your heart soars at how quickly Joel pulls you into his arms and basically onto his lap.
It feels like it’s been months since you’ve last been with him, or maybe that’s just how exhausting today was.
Joel sighs content and pleased once you fully rest against him. Hesitantly you ask if it’s okay if you can talk about him, about his work.
“Ask away honey. I’ll tell ya everything n’ anything.” He says firm.
You grin and your thumb starts stroking the back of his hand.
“So what made you decide to reveal yourself now? I heard there was an issue about someone saying they were you?” You ask, thinking of the discussions earlier with your best friend.
“Yeah..” Joel now sighs tired with an ancient weariness that settles over his handsome face.
“Sarah was the one who saw it first on Twitter or wherever it was.” He adds with a grumble.
Your heart aches knowing one of the girls saw it first.
“Didn’t help either that I ain’t online. So it became a whole fuckin’ mess we had to deal with it a couple months back.”
A light bulb goes off inside your brain.
“Was that when you said you had to visit a family friend out of town?” You connect the dots.
“Yup.” Joel nods. “Went to visit Frank, my agent, to try and figure this shit out. Could’ve let it all maybe die down but… ya know.” He huffs and you understand completely.
Joel is too stubborn, a bit too prideful. You almost snort amused just over the thought of him trying to let the situation blow over.
“Frank wants to meet ya by the way.” Now his voice dips with a bashful tone while his hands begin softly stroking your thighs.
“I’d love to meet him too.” You truthfully tell Joel.
“So, are you going to be online now? Should I start making secret accounts to follow you?” You now tease and Joel barks a beautiful amused laugh.
“Baby, I’m over 50. The only apps I need on my phone are candy crush and ESPN. Ain’t got the time or patience for social medias.”
Now you’re the one laughing.
It feels freeing, blissful, like this is the first moment you’re spending time with him all over again. Yet, there’s a deeper sacred connection that settles.
You can’t help but kiss him again and Joel eagerly welcomes you on his lips.
Now his lips move fervently, almost possessively, against yours, licking and trying to consume you. A small moan squeaks out of you.
“Come on baby,” he mutters, shifting you against his lap so that you fully feel his hardness straining against his pants. “Wanna taste ya.”
You’re thankful you manage to drag him back inside because you can’t imagine getting intimate with Joel on the balcony. Well, at least not yet. But that was a thought for another day.
Now in the afterglow’s soft relaxing peace you wish for more time with him.
But Joel must sense that ache too.
“S’late honey. Come back home with me. Even if it’s just for the night.” He mutters against your lips and you can’t deny him. You don’t want to deny him or the aching tug pulling you to him.
That night you fully embrace every inch of the man Joel Miller is and let a dizzying adoration for him swallow you whole.
The next morning, in the soft early still dark shade of his room, Joel wakes you with a tender kiss to your forehead.
“Gotta go meet with Frank for the day. I’ll see ya later, honey.” He mutters against your cozy heated skin.
You hum a soft agreement and sleepily wish him a goodbye before falling back to sleep. After that, you wake up later to a colder and empty bed.
Tugging on another one of Joel’s shirts you head downstairs already missing his presence.
And when you get downstairs, there on the table sits the most gorgeous floral arrangement. Its beautiful vibrant blooms make your heart flutter so fast against its cage.
A folded paper sits beside the flowers. Your name is written on the front in Joel’s slightly chicken scratch like handwriting.
You scramble fast to grab it.
A letter, he’s written you a letter.
“Honey,
I know I’ve already apologized and you’ve forgiven my old undeserving ass.”
You snort at that line but continue on.
“But I just wanted to fully apologize to you again. Might take me a while until I stop, but just be patient with my old bones yeah?”
You would. Your heart would and will always wait for him.
“Doesn’t seem like it but, I aint that good at talking about things, about my feelings. Shocker right?”
You smirk. You know he isn’t good with words - that’s why it almost feels ironic and a bit unreal that he’s an author.
You’ve discovered Joel shows his affection through his actions.
He spent an entire day rearranging a business scheduling conflict just so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about it. Joel never missed a single one of Ellie’s basketball games. Sarah only prefers a certain type of orange juice and Joel never fails to only get that one.
The first few weeks you started dating Joel you got sick with a nasty cold. He dropped off a whole bag of various items like tissues and cough drops. It was then you knew his heart shines through his actions.
He sometimes surprises you with an order from your favorite take out spot. He never lets you touch a door, always opening them for you instead. He’s the most generous lover and never fails to remind you of how tender, how consuming, his passion can be.
Joel does grumble, sometimes even seems grouchy, but he loves fiercely.
And now here he is showing you this side of him, this form of himself as a writer.
So you return to reading his letter.
“I got into writing because it helped me process all my emotions, my thoughts, the good and bad days - everything. And sharing my writing with others, especially with someone as important as you, still makes me feel so vulnerable. Funny how that worked out though huh? Guess fate wanted to drag my ass and make me face my fears and vulnerability and whatnot.”
Someone as important as you - The line makes your heart flutter.
“I know I told you the reasons why I didn’t tell you. But another reason was because I was afraid.
I was afraid of how much you mean to me. Telling you about this part of me would be taking a bigger step. And it scared me shitless. Cause darlin’ I haven’t felt this way in a very long time. Like, as Ellie loves to say, in such a long time that ‘dinosaurs weren’t even fossils.’
That makes you laugh a bit watery but you let his words carry you again.
“You make my damn heart race when you smile. I get so worked up just seeing you walk around my house as if you were always meant to be here. And I didn't want to lose that either. I still don’t.
You feel like a bright future, like waking up after a cloudy week and the sun greets you so nicely. And I just wanna stay in that warmth, your warmth.
Yeah sorry, that line might be too romance novel writer for my league…but like I said I’m thinking about it. And it’s because of you.
We said no more secrets yeah?
So I’m not lying when I say you’ve become so god damn important to me. And I wanna see more days with you, as many as you’ll have with me.
Fuck. This damn letter already feels too long and I hate my old ass for rambling and maybe not making sense. But I adore you honey. Plain in simple.
And I’m just gonna leave it at that.
Don’t miss me too much and I’ll see you soon.
P.S I picked that bookstore as the tour’s first stop here because it’s where I met you… and I’ll always be grateful for that
-Joel”
You now fight back an absolute ocean’s worth of adoration for this man.
Tears clog your throat and you try not letting them flood your vision, but it’s so hard. So hard when you’re this head over heels.
You don’t want to say it yet, and you don’t know if he’s even ready to say it, but the emotion filling you like a newborn star feels like love.
You barely manage to send out a text thanking him and hoping you’ll get to talk to him soon.
Joel, ever the endearing man he is, replies back with a simple heart emoji and you laugh.
You really might love this man.
And you hope, you so brightly hope, that he maybe loves you too.
You think of his book series, of how he became a writer simply wanting to tell his daughters stories. Those stories grew out of his love for them and now he gets to crystallize that among his pages.
You realize how writing truly is its own form of love.
After all, what better way for a writer to show their love, their heart, than to capture you in their words?
You think that’s where writers must live now, in the heart. Or maybe - your maybe gruff handsome one just does. And you happily welcome Joel’s place in yours and hope he resides there forever like a love poem etched into your very soul.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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Yandere Kencanons
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Warnings: Kidnapping, Abduction, Major Spoilers for The Barbie Movie, Unhinged Post, Possessive Ken, Ken Just Wants to be Loved, Petnames, Ken Being Condescending, Post-Patriarchy Ken, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except 'You'.
Simply put, you’d charmed Ken. Made his non-existent heart flutter and a feeling he always associated with Barbie to overtake him. Been in the wrong place at the right time. Hence, less than a few hours after your meeting with Kenneth, you were in Barbieland. Sorry - Kendom Land.
You’d made the mistake of asking him for the time, in a rush to make it to work. And, with a twinkle in his eye and a seeming newfound sense of purpose, he proclaimed that “You respect me!”
Dazed and with little else you could say, you shrugged. “I mean…I guess…?”
And that was enough for him.
“I must go – get back to Barbieland – spread the news about patriarchy!”
You'd humoured him, more for the promise of your own safety than actual agreement, and he tipped his hat to you, billowing away in the direction of Venice Beach in a haze of his own world.
You managed to dodge him initially, untangling yourself from his vacant stare and making it to work unscathed.
On your way to lunch a few hours after, however, you were accosted again.
Of course, by none other than Ken Carson.
Who, having put all he’d learnt from his books on horses, the Wild West, and patriarchy, literally lassoed you and threw you onto his shoulder.
“We’ve gotta get you back to Barbieland – the Kens are not gonna believe this !”
On your journey back to this mysterious place, Ken explained to you how Barbies usually rule everything while the Kens are left with nothing.
“But, with you at my side, I’m sure we can make it right!”
You genuinely chalked this guy up to be insane, if at most, an escaped patient.
However, as you traversed 2D landscapes, you were more inclined to believe him. That this fabled Babrietopia did in fact exist.
And, once you get there, you become Patriarchy Ken’s personal servant.
He tells you to “Brewski Beer” him, all the while talking about how his initial conception of patriarchy had been that it was “Horses who ran the world, but it’s actually men — and horses are men extenders.”
He calls you his “bride-wife” or “groom-husband”, which, compared to the other Kens’ long-term distance low-commitment casual partners, seems oddly…endearing. Dangerously permanent.
With no idea how to get back to the Real world, you’re stuck with Ken and his entourage of fellow Kens, the Barbies either indoctrinated into their way of thinking or in hiding.
Speaking of, you are basically Ken’s property.
And he treats you as such whenever one of the other Kens tries to accost your service.
His tone is low, eyes sharp. “(Y/N) is my long-term distance low-commitment partner, not yours, Ken.”
And, to show as much, you get to sit on the floor next to Ken as he watches the Godfather with his Kentourage, talking through the whole thing, commenting on its ingenuity and nuance.
He also makes you stay nearby whenever he changes outfits - which is just him changing into another faux mink coat, pants and headband.
Despite being this new, independent, untethered Ken, he asks your opinion on things which seem largely inconsequential. Still, you sense something unstable. Insecurity, perhaps.
"What about...this coat?"
"Isn't that the same as the last one you showed me?"
Ken looks at your glass reflection in the wardrobe doors. His smile glitches, falters. He replaces it.
"Yeah, course - I was just testing you, seein' if you were paying attention."
Whenever you get a moment alone, away from the madness of the Kens, it’s short-lived. For Ken is never far behind, seeming to materialise in the doorway of whatever room of the Dreamhouse you’ve adopted as your refuge.
“What’s wrong, tiny baby?” He says, sauntering over to you, snake-like.
“I want to go home, Ken,” You tell him, voice racked with sobs, tears in your eyes.
He just gives you a narrowed, confused look, adopting an almost incredulous posture as if to say ‘Why?’
“First of all, I don’t like your tone, Doll,”
He steps towards you. You step back.
“Second of all, why in Kendom Land would you wanna leave ?" Another step forward. Another step back. "This is the dream of any patriarch’s partner to be where you are now; it should feel just like home !” Another step forward, another step ba-
Your legs hit the edge of the bed.
It doesn’t matter how hurt - or frightened - you look. Ken doesn’t listen.
“And besides, do you know how many Barbies would kill to be where you are now ? I know Weird Barbie would.” And he smiles – smirks – as if he’s triumphed you in some way only he is aware of, hands on his waist. The image of power.
Ken tends to test his boundaries when it comes to physical affection.
Seeing as he received none with Barbie, he seems to want to try his luck with you.
And yes, this does include him puckering his lips and staying stood in front of you until one of you caves.
Usually, it’s him, causing him to retract and act as if nothing happened. Which it didn’t. 
But when he really wants a kiss, he can persist for hours.
You timed him. Two hours and three minutes until you relented and pecked him.
“Wow,” he says, every time, as if it’s the first time, his eyes clouded with dreams and what you could only pen as whimsy.
He’s incredibly touch-starved. Show him an ounce of willing and he’ll be overjoyed in his own, new, macho way. Though, he does have a hard time containing a squeal whenever you touch skin.
Secretly, he's entranced by how...human you are. how different you feel and talk to the other dolls in his Kendom.
He's developed an obsession interest with your hands, holding them in his, telling you how small and soft your hands are compared to his.
He squeezes them whenever he gets the chance, commenting on how "Squishy" your fingers are, despite you having a skeleton beneath your skin - a concept that blows Ken away every time you explain it to him.
He also adores hugs. Though, he only hugs you/lets you hug him when out of view of other Kens. He needs to protect his image as the stoic leader, after all.
Loves a cuddle; goes stupid crazy for them.
He favours holding you to his chest and resting his chin atop your head. He finds your warmth a foreign comfort. While you find his lack of a heart – and a beat – a discomfort.
“S’nice and warm,” he says, eyes closed, the image of laxity. "Being here with you."
He mumbles that last part. You know not to inquire further. The Kens consider any form of genuine affection to be a weakness.
It’s in your best interest to just let him stay there and talk about whatever it is he’s fascinated himself with, lest you wish to incur a temper tantrum or the cold shoulder.
Aside from being a fan of hand-holding, he's also a partaker in wrist-holding.
If you ever do something to aggravate him, he tends to grip your wrist hard enough to make you wince, his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed.
“Something wrong, Babe?” He’ll say, tone deep with simmering wrath.
You know not to push it with Ken.
Despite how platinum and perfect he is, he does harbour a resentment which, whether caused by you or not, he seems to target you with.
Talked to a Ken for too long, or in a way he didn’t like?
He’s going to embarrass you in front of him. Make you seem undesirable to all who are not himself.
He knows he can’t make you disappear, given the fact that you’re mortal. But he knows he can make other Kens disappear; an idea that, the first time it appeared to him, frightened him, made him confront a darker half he’d repressed. But, as time went on, he’s learnt to harness it in ways you’d never have suspected from a Ken.
Not that you’d know it from the way he treats you, but he does actually care for you.
Perhaps…as much as, even more so, than he does — did — for Barbie.
He doesn’t feel like he’s tethered to any one job or image when he’s with you; his identity is not an extension of yours. But, he does try to treat yours as if it is an extension of his.
“Babe, hurry up with those beers — the game’s about to start !”
He knows you’re impervious to the effects of his brainwashing, given that you’re from the Real World, so he feels that you’re the most genuine person in Kendom Land. Hence he tends to treat you with equal harshness and care.
This also often leads to Ken asking you things about your world. Things he doesn’t yet have the answers for.
His favourite pastime is to lay his head on your thighs while you sit against the headboard of his bed, asking you any and all questions that come to mind.
“What’s your favourite colour?”, “Where does the sun go when it’s night time?”, “What did you do at your job?”
Personal ones like that last one often cause you to tense, and Ken can tell. He tends to refrain from asking you such questions now, seeing as any reminder of your life prior to this cause you to, what he has learnt to call it, cry.
Despite how tone-deaf Kenneth can be, he is actually rather intuitive. Or, rather, considerate.
When you’d told him your favourite colour, he’d painted his bedroom walls in it. Albeit a slap-dash job of it, given how interior design is not in his box description like Interior Design Ken, but he tried !
Despite his small acts of kindness being his attempts to imitate comfort, they do little to calm you. For everything he says, does, discussing a future with you in Kendom Land, changing aspects of his world to cater to your preferences, feel as if you are to take up unwilling, permanent residence here.
And, while you wait and plot for a way to escape, you exist as a perpetual puppet for Ken to mither and berate and order around.
In the real world, a doll has started appearing on shelves – a new range of ‘Misery Barbie/Ken’ dominating the toy aisles of every supermarket and toy store, your visage wrapped tightly in every box.
Tears, an outfit demeaning enough to make a grandmother faint, and the unwavering expression of the need for freedom.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterpost Masterlist
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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satorusugurugurl · 26 days
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The Leisure Streamer is a Hottie! (Chapter Five)
Summary: Rumor had it the top donor of the-strongest-streamers chats get to see him naked! Now that you're the top donor, will you get to see the goods, or was it just a rumor? Time will tell.
Pairing: Streamer!Gojo x AFAB!Reader
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: language, suggestiveness, social media drama, hate comments, cyber bullying,
A/N: One more part remaining of this series!! Thanks for you patience I really appreciate you all!! 💚💚💚
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
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“Yo, wait—” Gojo flushed, shifting in his gaming chair. “This man is—oh! Ooh!” his computer screen was reflected in the lenses of his dark blue glasses as comments came flooding in from his chat. “Why is he lifting me!? Where is he taking me?” several comments came flooding in, talking about how Sylus was Gojo‘s kryptonite to others, begging for him to read his lines, including the little sounds he made. All of which he ignored his eyes, focusing on his phone that was propped up on his desk. A message from you flashed across the screen.
Sweetheart💚: I can’t believe you’re two-timing whore! 😩
He swirled side-side in his chair as he picked his phone up, smiling like an idiot. Everything else didn’t seem to matter as he ignored his stream for a second to send you a quick reply, which didn’t go unnoticed by his fans asking what he was doing.
Gojo: How could you? If anyone’s a two-timer, it’s you. And what’s his face—Rafayel? I distinctly remember you telling me to play this.
Sweetheart💚: don’t bring my fictional husband into this! 😤You’re the one fawning over Sylus on the livestream over the “shower scene”
Gojo: jealous? 😏
Sweetheart💚: Me jealous? No never.
Gojo: if you want to shower with me that bad, all you have to do is ask, sweetie! 😮‍💨
Sweetheart💚: I want to shower with you and be at the shop in 10 minutes! 😚
His heart swelled, and his cheeks hurt from how wide he was smiling. It had been close to a month since you both had met each other. A month that had been filled with laughter, dates, and joy. Gojo couldn’t remember the last time he had been this happy!
The only real hiccup the two of you had experienced was the leaked photo of you at the Love Hotel. That has been stressful and nerve-racking, but things to his mad, amazing PR manager. This situation had been diffused before it could spread like wildfire. Gojo made a statement to his fans, asking them to respect his personal life, which was respected. The prodding questions had stopped, but of course, he still had the occasional question that brought up the mystery girl from the hotel. Whenever something like that was asked, he had his statement memorized, which he would recite to not come off as an asshole. A majority of the time, his fans were sweet and understanding.
Gojo honestly had some of the best fans in the world. But you were the best thing that he’d ever had happen to him when it came to his fans. The more he got to know you, the more he became your biggest fan. You being his top donor a month ago changed his life for the better, and now that he was thinking about that, he needed to get the money back to you somehow subtly.
“Bro is staring at his phone like a teenage girl!” a robotic voice sounded in his headphones as someone donated to have their comment read out loud.
The chat was going wild now, asking what he was doing or who he was talking to. Was he smiling like a teenage girl? He didn’t even finish processing through his brain as a meme popped up in the chat on his. Damn, his followers move fast, as several means seem to follow suit.
The text on them varied from "the strongest streamer when Sylus talks!" to "me when Gojo streams," all the way to "me when the pizza rolls are done." Anything that could be added to the goofy someone took of him was added, which was both impressive and slightly embarrassing. From now on, he should refrain from texting you when he is streaming, or he will continue to be turned into a meme.
“Oh, you guys are hilarious,” his voice was thick with sarcasm as he turned his attention back to the screen. “A real bunch of comedians. I have here in the chat.” several laughing face emojis flooded the log, thankfully, making those god-awful memes fade from his view. “All jokes aside, I’m going to play for a little bit longer before I sign off. But I’ll be streaming again tonight. We’ll be perfecting my island on Animal Crossing!” but he could care less about his island. He was much more looking forward to watching you sketch while he played.
Well, Gojo continued streaming. The door to The Rainbow Dragon Café chimed as you walked in. “Hey!” Geto grinned, waving at you from the counter he was leaning over. “Satoru, it’s still streaming.”
“Oh, I know that’s fine, though I wanted to talk to you anyway.” You sat on one of the barstools, pulling your iPad out. “I finished some rough sketches for your logo. I need you to let me know what you think. You could tell me or if you want me to change anything.”
“Oh, cool, I’m eager to see what you designed.”
For the first time in a long time, your hand started shaking as your boss took the iPad, turning it around to look at your very rough sketches. Your nerves were shot to shit, and you weren’t all that happy with the sketches you had produced, which was not normal for you. Every other client you have had in the past always left you bouncing with excitement, eager to see the reaction to the hard work and dedication you had put in. But this lack of confidence was some strange new emotion you hadn’t felt in years.
This all started because some of your boyfriend's followers found your art account.
Satoru wasn’t kidding when he told you some of the fanbase was toxic. They sent you nasty messages telling you that Gojo deserves better. They criticized your artwork over your choice of colors, line art, and handwriting. Anything they saw on your account, they ripped it apart, shredding your confidence into ragged pieces.
The comments didn’t bother you at first. They were so minuscule, and you figured if you gave it a few days, they would give up when you didn’t react or feed into their negativity. That didn’t stop the comments; they continued and grew progressively worse daily.
You were confident in your work. But people were constantly telling you how much you sucked, how you lacked the talent; those words stuck to you like glue, and it didn’t matter how many times you blocked the spam; the word still felt like a hot brand in your mind. You hated to admit it, but those words produced an art block for you made out of fear and self-doubt.
“Oh,” Suguru hummed, pulling you out of the void you were trapped in, “wow.”
“T-They’re rough!” You jumped in your hands, reaching for your tablet. “If you don’t like them, I can fix—”
“Whoa, whoa, hey now, I didn’t say that.” Geto probably pulled your iPad out of your reach. “Nothing even remotely close to that.”
You swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in your throat. “T-Then what--uhm,” Geto’s dark eyes filled with concern as you cracked your knuckles anxiously. “What do you think?” The feature of his face softened, but the problem remained.
“I was saying, wow, this is amazing.” his gaze finally dropped back down to your iPad, where he stared fondly at the dragon you had designed. The head was focused towards the audience while the body and tail curled into a circle where the name of the logo had been written. Rough colors of white, teal, and green had been scribbled in. You also had drawn some Chibi versions of Rainbow Dragon for the website or other social media. Geto might like to use it in the future.
“These are just sketches; I can see how amazing the final product will look.” Wheels seem to be turning in your boss's head with the different possibilities of how he could market with the fantastic logos you had designed. “There’s a lot we can do with this. We could make mugs and T-shirts. I could commission a new neon sign to be made.” the way he listed different possibilities, some of the fear on your shoulders. “This is awesome. Do you think you could draw some versions of a Rainbow Dragon?”
“Y-Yeah, of course! I can start working on the final logo too after—” Some comments from your account flashed like a warning sign at the forefront of your mind. “Some more adjustments.”
“Adjustments? But these are great. You can finalize this logo right here. I absolutely love it.” Your chin quivered, and as hard as you tried to hide it, Geto saw through your facade. “Hey, " he said, putting your tablet down, reaching across the counter, and gently taking your hand. What’s wrong? You can talk to me.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Please, I have two teenage girls. I know ‘nothing’ definitely means something is going on.”
With a sigh, you focused on the rings on Suguru's hand. “I-I���ve been getting some feedback on my art account.” Calling the cruel, hateful words ‘feedback’ was like sugarcoating the whole situation. “So I haven’t been feeling like my work is the best right now.” there was a flash in Suguru’s eyes as you glanced back up at him, which you could only describe as a protective rage. Like a big brother would give to a younger sibling when he found out that they were being bullied. “But I'm okay for the most part. I'm trying to work through it.”
“I’m going to take a while guess and say that it’s Satoru’s wild fan, girls?” your silence told him everything he needed to know. “It is. Those girls are the worst.” He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Have you told him or Nanami what’s going on?”
“No, I haven't.”
“You need to tell him.”
“No, no,” you shook your head, “it's not like there’s much he can do.”
“Satoru would move mountains for you because you’re his girlfriend. He won’t put up with this shit.”
Technically speaking, you were his girlfriend to him and your friends and family, but nobody else knew that. Both of you agreed that since the last fiasco, lying low had been the best thing for you to do. It really didn’t seem like the best time to stir up drama again.
Plus, they were just comments. It wasn’t like anyone was physically trying to harm you. They were just being rude about your artwork, saying things that obviously weren’t true, but they still hurt. But your relationship was meant to be private until Satoru publicly announced that the two of you were dating; people wouldn’t just be mean about your artwork. You could only imagine what people would say about you. You knew if they hated your artwork this much. You were afraid to see what they would say about pictures of you both together.
You needed to grow some thicker skin to continue your relationship with Satoru and God; you wanted it to continue.
You liked him so much. Never once in your life have you been happier in a relationship. Gojo spoiled rotten, treated you like royalty, and you fell harder for him each passing day. You wanted a strong relationship with him, so you should tell him what was happening. It shouldn't even be a question of whether you should or shouldn't. Good communication is the key to a solid and stable relationship. But you were so hesitant to tell him about it.
Maybe it was because you didn’t want him to think you couldn’t handle being in the limelight. But being in the public eye happened when people being in a relationship with someone as famous as Gojo, as popular as he was, meant that their life would be out in the open, even if he tried to keep his personal life separate from streaming. This was just what came with the territory of being a popular streamer. Today, anybody can find out who people are through their secrets. With time, you will be able to ignore the comments. They would be something that didn’t bother you anymore, plus you didn’t want Satoru worrying about you.
You were strong, and you didn’t need him to protect you.
Inhale deeply through your nose and exhale through your mouth before meeting Suguru’s concerned gaze. So much came out of that one Q&A opportunity with Gojo. One thirty-minute question session turned masturbation session, leading you to some of the best moments of your life. You had a boyfriend girls dreamed of having. You made lots of new friends, and life was good! With more passing time, you would slowly get back into the drawing flow. Ultimately, all the good things that had happened outweighed the bad.
“You need to tell him,” Suguru said again, glancing at his phone screen as he scrolled, anger increasing as he stared at it.
“I’ll tell him soon, " you confessed, sighing heavily.
“Tell him what?” warm hands squeezed your shoulders.
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden contact, but the second soft lips thrust against your cheek relaxed. “Toru! You scared the shit out of me.” smooth, white-haired tickled your cheek, his chin pressed against your shoulder.”I told Suguru I would show you the rough draft for the new logo I designed.”
“Oh?” Gojo peeked over your shoulder, staring at the screen. “Is that so?” You gave your boss a pleading look, a silent request that he not tell your boyfriend what was going on. He sighed before he tapped on his phone.
“Yeah, she was.” Gojo beamed, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “Do you wanna see?”
“I want to see my girlfriend's amazing work!”
“Here.”
You shut your eyes, humming softly as you leaned into the warmth that radiated off of Satoru’s body. The smell of clean linen and musk relaxed every muscle in your body as you felt your boyfriend shift to take the iPad from Suguru. For a split second, Gojo was confused to see an Instagram account on the screen of Suguru’s phone instead of a sketch, but he didn’t question it once he saw the cute mochi avatar he knew belonged to you.
“Oh, cool!” he clicked on the first post, which was a logo design you had made for a local arcade. The cute Chibi pinball machine was colored in vibrant shades, and your line art made everything stand out. “That’s my girl! Look at the talent! The lime art, the shading!”
Shading? Line art? You just drew a sketch for Suguru. Your eyes went wide as you straightened. You turned to look at your boss, finding his face transfixed on Gojo. He wasn’t looking at your iPad but Suguru’s cellphone. His thumbs moved over the screen, scrolling towards the comment section. Every muscle in his arm tensed as he read what people were saying.
‘This is so sloppy!’
‘Ppl paid 4 this shit? I would ask 4 a refund ☠️’
‘u should get a real job 😂’
“Satoru,” you tried reaching for the phone, only to have Gojo pull away, stepping away from the counter as he read more.
‘eew her did they draw their avatar as a chibi mochi because that’s the-strongest-streamers favorite food? 🤢 desperate much?’
‘Slut’
‘Whore!’
‘Gojo deserves better than your talentless ass 🙃’
The further he scrolled, the nastier the comments became. The muscles in his forearm twitched, and it was the first time you saw an expression on his features that you had never seen before. It was rage.
“How long?” He asked, a voice as cold as a winter storm.
“What?”
“How long has this been going on for?” Satoru gestured his chin towards the phone, which was still in his hand. “How long.”
You wanted to shrink into yourself so you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he fumed with anger. Hesitation held onto your tongue, preventing you from speaking. How would he react if you were to tell him, to be honest, about what was happening? Would he be angry with you for not telling him sooner? Or would he go on his livestream and call his fans out? It was those uncertainties that prevented you from speaking.
The chill of cold metal brushed over the back of your hand as Geto gently squeezed your trembling hand. With a glance in his direction, you felt some of the air you had been holding inside your lungs escape as he nodded, dark bangs swaying with his movements. He was right—he had been right since the start.
You needed to be honest.
“The comments started after our trip to Sendai,” you confessed, chewing on the inside of your cheek to the nearly painful point.
You waited for him to explode and ask what you were thinking. But that never came. Because your boyfriend was brilliant despite his smugness and ego, the second he read those comments, his mind began racing with different options and outcomes if he did certain things. His mind was working at one hundred twenty percent, and finally, he devised the perfect plan.
“We need Nanami.” He stated bluntly, as if he’d been telling you what he had planned as he dialed a number on his phone. It rang once before the other line was answered. “Heya Nanamin! So I need you to do me a huge favor.” muffled voices came out from the other line. “Why do you assume I'm always in trouble?” More muffled voices, sounding slightly annoyed. “Okay—yes, there was the Sendai incident, and the slime on the trai—okay! Shit, don't list them off. That's not even what I’m calling for.” Gojo dropped his arm over you, pulling you flush against his side. “I need you to tell Tokyo Comic-Con I'll be there with a plus-one with me. Uh-huh yeah, thanks a bunch.”
“What was that all about?” You asked, watching as Gojo quickly typed something on his phone. Your phone buzzed, and you glanced at the screen, jaw-dropping. “Toru! Why the hell did you send me eight hundred dollars?!”
“Oh, I'm giving you back the money you donated to my stream the night we started talking.” He sighed, rubbing his neck. “Well, more like—”
“More like what?” You did not like the look on his face as he smirked.
“More like hiring you to redesign my merch and channel.”
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree
LSIAH Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO):
@witchbybirth @zoeyflower @missmuffinr @kalulakunundrum @matchalatte06 @aussiemeerkat @gojoful @ilovebattison @getoloverr @dottedhalfnotes @sonicsolos @manyno @candy-s72 @smolbeanzzz @ya9amicide @strychnynegirl @jaeminaur
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fr0stf4ll · 1 month
Text
Forge of starlight - Part 6
paring; Azriel x reader
summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.
word count ; 7.7k
warning; /
notes; Pretty big chapter again today, i hope that you guys will like it. I'm wondering if you guys would like me to do open request for azriel or other characters of the ACOTAR universe ? bisous bisous and see you tomorrowwwww //>_<//
here is the link for part 5 or part 7
The first light of dawn didn't had yet to touch the sky when you quietly slipped out of bed, the soft creak of the wooden floorboards barely audible in the stillness of the early morning. The house was cloaked in shadows, the only light coming from the faint, silvery glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. You moved with practiced ease, pulling on your training clothes—a simple but sturdy outfit made for movement and endurance.
Once dressed, you padded softly to Alex’s room, where the young boy was still deeply asleep, sprawled across his bed with one arm hanging off the side. His peaceful expression made you pause for a moment, a soft smile tugging at your lips. But as much as you hated to wake him, you knew it was time to start the day.
Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him awake. “Alex, it’s time to get up,” you whispered.
A soft growl emanated from under the covers as Alex buried his face deeper into his pillow, clearly not ready to leave the comfort of his bed. “Just five more minutes, Nana,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “You know we can’t be late for training. Come on, up you get.”
With a reluctant groan, Alex slowly peeled himself out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. His hair was a wild mess, sticking out in all directions, and he blinked blearily at you, still half-asleep. “Why do we have to train so early?” he grumbled, though there was no real bite in his words.
“Because,” you said with a smile, “this is the best time of day. The city’s quiet, the air is fresh, and it’s just us and the forest. You’ll feel better once we’re out there.”
Alex sighed, but he nodded, already moving to get dressed. “Okay, okay, I’m coming.”
Within a few minutes, the two of you were ready, your footsteps silent as you slipped out of the house and into the cool pre-dawn air. The sky above was still mostly dark, with only the faintest hint of light on the horizon where the sun would soon rise. The streets of Velaris were quiet, the city still asleep, and the world felt hushed and peaceful as you made your way towards the forest.
As you approached the gates of Velaris, you spotted the familiar figures of the guards stationed there, keeping watch over the entrance to the city. These were the same guards you saw every morning on your way to the clearing, and over time, you had come to know them well.
“Morning, Y/N! Alex!” one of the guards called out with a friendly wave as you approached. He was a tall, broad-shouldered male with a beard that always seemed to be impeccably groomed, despite the early hour. His name was Rylan, and he had a reputation for being one of the friendliest guards in Velaris.
“Morning, Rylan,” you greeted with a smile. “Quiet night?”
“Quiet as can be,” Rylan replied with a grin. “Though I’m not sure how you two manage to get up this early nearly every day. I’m just glad I’m the one on watch and not the one doing all that training.”
Alex, still rubbing the last traces of sleep from his eyes, gave Rylan a small wave. “Morning, Rylan. You should join us one day. Nana’s training is tough, but it’s fun.”
Rylan chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’ll leave the tough stuff to you young folks. Besides, someone’s got to keep watch while you’re out there.”
Another guard, a younger male named Darian, leaned over with a teasing grin. “Don’t let him fool you, Alex. Rylan here used to be quite the fighter back in his day. He’s just gotten soft with all these night shifts.”
Rylan rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Says the one who can barely lift a sword without complaining about his back.”
You laughed, enjoying the banter between the two guards. “Maybe we should all train together sometime. Keep everyone sharp.”
Rylan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll think about it. But for now, you two should get going. The forest awaits.”
You nodded, giving them both a wave as you and Alex continued on your way, the guards’ laughter fading into the background as you left the city behind and entered the forest.
The path through the trees was familiar, one you had walked countless times before. The forest was alive with the sounds of nature—the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant call of birds just beginning to wake, and the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the earthy scent of the woods, and you felt yourself relax as you breathed it in.
Alex, now fully awake, walked beside you, his earlier grumpiness replaced by the quiet focus that always came with these early morning sessions. “Do you think we’ll see any animals today?” he asked, his voice hushed as if he didn’t want to disturb the peace of the forest.
“Maybe,” you replied with a smile. “The forest is full of life at this time of day. If we’re lucky, we might catch a glimpse of a deer or two.”
The clearing came into view a few minutes later, a peaceful spot nestled deep within the trees. It was a place of quiet solitude, far enough from the city that you could train in peace, but close enough that you could return quickly if needed. The ground was soft and even, covered in a thin layer of grass, and the trees around the perimeter provided a natural barrier, shielding you from prying eyes.
As you stepped into the clearing, the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, casting the forest in a soft, golden glow. The sky above was slowly transitioning from deep blue to shades of pink and orange, and the beauty of the scene was enough to take your breath away.
Alex, standing beside you, let out a small sigh of contentment. “I guess you’re right, Nana. This really is the best time of day.”
You smiled down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “I knew you’d come around. Now, let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do before the sun fully rises.”
With that, the two of you began your morning routine, the clearing filled with the sounds of training—sharp breaths, the swish of weapons through the air, and the quiet, steady rhythm of feet moving across the ground. The world around you was waking up, but in that moment, it was just you, Alex, and the peaceful solitude of the forest, ready to face whatever the day might bring.
The clearing was bathed in the soft, golden light of the early morning as you and Alex moved through your training routine. The air was cool, refreshing, and filled with the scent of damp earth and pine, a perfect setting for the physical exertion that awaited you both. 
You began with the basics, going through a series of warm-up exercises to get the blood flowing and muscles ready. Alex mirrored your movements, his focus sharp and determined despite the early hour. He had come a long way since you first started training him, his small frame now stronger and more agile with each passing day.
Once the warm-up was complete, you moved on to sword training. You handed Alex a wooden practice sword, and together, you began a series of drills, the rhythmic clashing of wood echoing through the clearing.
“Remember to keep your guard up,” you instructed, your voice calm but firm as you parried his strikes. “You’re doing well, but don’t let your focus slip.”
Alex nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration as he adjusted his stance and brought his sword up to block your next move. The two of you moved in a synchronized dance, your swords connecting and separating with precise, practiced movements. After a few more exchanges, you could see that Alex was getting into the rhythm, his confidence growing with each successful block and strike.
“Good,” you said, stepping back to give him space. “Now, let’s try something different.”
You set the wooden swords aside and walked over to a small area of the clearing where you had set up a simple target—a wooden post with a painted bullseye on it. You handed Alex a bow and a quiver of arrows, watching as he adjusted his grip on the bowstring.
“Archery is about precision and control,” you explained, demonstrating the proper stance and how to draw the bow. “You need to find your center, steady your breathing, and focus on the target. Don’t rush the shot; let the arrow fly naturally.”
Alex nodded, following your instructions carefully as he nocked an arrow and pulled back the string. You could see the determination in his eyes, the way he focused entirely on the target in front of him.
“Relax your shoulders a bit,” you advised, moving behind him to gently adjust his stance. “And keep your wrist steady. There you go—now, when you’re ready, release.”
He did as you instructed, and the arrow flew from the bow with a satisfying twang, embedding itself in the outer ring of the target. Alex’s face lit up with a mixture of surprise and pride at his success.
“Nice shot!” you praised, giving him an encouraging smile. “You’re getting the hang of it. Let’s try a few more, and focus on refining your technique.”
As Alex continued to practice, you took the opportunity to stretch, easing your muscles after the earlier sword drills. You moved through a series of stretches, leaning into each one with practiced ease. As you stretched your legs, your body moving into a graceful split, you kept an eye on Alex, offering tips and guidance as he shot arrow after arrow.
“Remember to keep your core engaged,” you advised, your voice calm as you reached forward, your fingertips grazing the ground. “It’ll help you stay steady. And don’t forget to follow through with your shot. Let the energy flow all the way from your feet to your fingertips.”
Alex, now fully immersed in his practice, nodded at your words, making the small adjustments you suggested. His shots grew more consistent, each one landing closer to the center of the target as he honed his technique.
After several rounds of archery practice, Alex finally lowered the bow, breathing heavily but with a satisfied smile on his face. He had clearly made progress, and it showed in the way he carried himself—more confident, more self-assured.
You finished your stretches and stood, rolling your shoulders to ease the tension. “Great job, Alex. You’re improving with every shot.”
He beamed at your praise, though he still looked a little unsure. “Thanks, Nana. But I think I still need more practice.”
You chuckled, ruffling his hair as you often did. “We all do. But that’s what training is for. You’ve done well today.”
Feeling the morning wear on and satisfied with the training session, you led Alex in a series of cool-down stretches, guiding him through each movement to prevent stiffness and ensure his muscles recovered properly. He followed your lead, the two of you moving in sync as the morning light grew stronger, casting long shadows across the clearing.
As the session came to a close, you both stood in the clearing, the sounds of the forest waking up around you. Alex stretched his arms above his head, a yawn escaping him as the exertion of the morning began to catch up with him.
“That was a good session,” he said, his voice a mix of tiredness and satisfaction.
You nodded, glancing up at the sky where the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, bathing the world in a soft, golden light. “It was. But now, I think it’s time we head back home and get some breakfast. What do you think?”
Alex grinned, his earlier grumpiness forgotten. “Definitely. I’m starving.”
With that, the two of you made your way back through the forest, the familiar path leading you back toward the city of Velaris. As you walked, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. The morning had been well spent, and as you returned home with Alex by your side, you knew you were ready to face whatever the day had in store.
After finishing your morning training, you and Alex returned to the house, the warmth of the interior a welcome contrast to the cool, crisp air outside. The shop could wait for a little while longer; right now, breakfast was calling, and you both needed to refuel after the exertion of the morning.
As you moved through the house, you could hear the soft sounds of Alex humming a tune to himself as he washed up, clearly in high spirits after the training session. You took the opportunity to freshen up as well, quickly washing away the sweat and dirt from the morning’s exercises. Once you were both clean and dressed in more comfortable clothes, you headed to the kitchen together to prepare breakfast.
The kitchen was filled with the comforting aromas of freshly brewed tea, warm bread, and sizzling eggs. Alex had insisted on helping, and you were more than happy to let him. He was getting quite skilled at cooking, and you enjoyed the quiet moments you spent together, preparing meals and chatting about whatever came to mind.
With breakfast ready, you both carried the plates to the living room, settling down on the couch with your food. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room, and you felt a sense of contentment as you began to eat.
But it wasn’t long before Alex’s curiosity got the better of him. As he took a bite of his toast, he shot you a mischievous look, his eyes gleaming with barely-contained excitement.
“So, Nana,” he began, his tone teasing, “what’s this I hear about you having dinner with Azriel tonight?”
You paused mid-bite, raising an eyebrow at him. “And where exactly did you hear that?”
Alex shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but his grin gave him away. “Oh, you know, just some rumours going around… mostly from you and him talking last night. So, is it true? Are you going on a date with him?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, Alex, it’s true. Azriel asked me to have dinner with him tonight.”
Alex’s grin widened, and he waggled his eyebrows in a way that was clearly meant to be playful. “Ooooh, a date with the Spymaster! Sounds serious, Nana. You must really like him.”
You felt a warmth rise to your cheeks, but you kept your tone light. “I do like him, Alex. He’s… different from anyone I’ve met before. But it’s just dinner. No need to get too carried away.”
“Uh-huh,” Alex said, his tone clearly teasing. “Just dinner. Sure. But you know, Nana, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just dinner to him.”
You took a sip of your tea, trying to hide the smile that was tugging at your lips. “And how exactly does he look at me, Mr. Expert?”
Alex leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms with a smug expression. “Like you’re the most important person in the world. Like he’d do anything for you. I mean, I’m just a kid, but even I can tell when someone’s got it bad.”
You chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”
He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “I know. But seriously, Nana, I’m happy for you. Azriel’s a good guy, and I think you two would be great together.”
You smiled softly at his words, feeling a swell of affection for the boy who had become like family to you. “Thanks, Alex. That means a lot to me.”
For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of the morning and the simple pleasure of each other’s company. The teasing might have been playful, but there was a truth to it that you couldn’t deny. Azriel was special, and the thought of spending more time with him, of exploring whatever was growing between you, filled you with both excitement and a little bit of nervousness.
As you finished your breakfast, Alex gave you one last grin. “Just promise me one thing, Nana.”
“What’s that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“If you and Azriel do end up together, you’ve got to let me be the one to give the toast at your wedding.”
You burst out laughing, shaking your head at his cheekiness. “Alright, Alex, you’ve got yourself a deal. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”
“Deal,” he said with a wink, clearly satisfied with himself.
With breakfast finished, you both got up to clear the table, the lighthearted mood lingering in the air. As you moved about the house, preparing for the day ahead, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation building. Tonight’s dinner with Azriel was going to be special—you could feel it. And whatever the future held, you knew you were ready to face it, with Alex by your side and, perhaps, Azriel as well.
The day had settled into a comfortable rhythm as you and Alex worked quietly in the shop. The clinking of metal and the gentle hum of the forge created a soothing background noise as you focused on your tasks. You were working on a set of generic weapons to display in the shop—well-crafted swords and daggers that could be sold to walk-in customers. Alex was nearby, organising the shelves and occasionally asking you questions about the different weapons you had made.
The morning had passed without incident, the shop quiet but steady with the occasional customer coming in to browse. It was a typical day in Velaris, and you found yourself enjoying the calm after a busy few weeks.
Just as you were finishing up the polishing of a particularly intricate dagger, the soft chime of the bell above the shop door rang out, signaling the arrival of a new customer. You glanced up, expecting to see a familiar face, but instead, a stranger stepped into the shop.
The man was dressed in a dark, hooded cloak that obscured much of his face, only his sharp, calculating eyes visible beneath the shadow of the hood. He moved with a quiet grace, his footsteps almost silent as he approached the counter where Alex was standing.
“Good day,” Alex greeted the man with his usual cheerful demeanor. “Can I help you with something?”
The man’s eyes flickered over the various weapons displayed around the shop, but he made no move to examine any of them. Instead, he reached into his cloak and produced a sealed letter, placing it on the counter with a deliberate motion.
“I have a request,” the man said, his voice low and measured. “Everything you need to know is in this letter.”
Alex looked at the letter with curiosity before glancing back up at the man. “We usually discuss orders in person. Can you give me a bit more detail about what you’re looking for?”
The man’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly. “The details are all in the letter. The payment will be made upon delivery of the weapon.”
Alex frowned, clearly not satisfied with the vague response. “We typically work on a two-payment basis—half upfront, half upon delivery. It ensures that the materials and work are covered.”
The man didn’t respond to Alex’s statement. Instead, he simply pushed the letter closer to him, a silent insistence that the terms would be followed as written.
You had been listening from the back of the shop, where you were tending to the forge, but the strange exchange piqued your interest. Wiping your hands on a cloth, you stepped out from behind the counter and approached the mysterious customer, giving him a polite but curious look.
“Is there a problem?” you asked, your tone calm but with a slight edge of authority. You had dealt with difficult customers before, but there was something different about this one—something that put you on alert.
The man turned his attention to you, his gaze briefly scanning you as if assessing your worth. “No problem,” he said smoothly. “As I told the boy, everything you need to know is in the letter. The weapon must be crafted according to the specifications provided, and the payment will be made in full upon delivery.”
You exchanged a glance with Alex, who still looked uncertain, but you decided to take the letter and see for yourself what was so important. You picked up the sealed envelope, feeling the weight of it in your hand, and nodded to the man.
“Alright,” you said, your tone firm. “I’ll take a look at the request. But you should know that we don’t usually proceed without a down payment. It ensures that both parties are committed to the transaction.”
The man’s lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. “You’ll find the payment terms satisfactory once the weapon is delivered. The craftsmanship you’re known for will be well-compensated.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the shop, leaving the door to swing shut behind him with a soft click. You watched him go, a strange feeling settling in your gut. There was something off about the entire interaction, and you couldn’t shake the unease that lingered in the air.
Alex looked up at you, his brow furrowed. “That was… weird, right?”
You nodded slowly, still holding the letter in your hand. “Definitely weird. Let’s see what this is all about.”
Carefully, you broke the seal on the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. The parchment was of high quality, and the handwriting was elegant, almost too perfect. As you read through the contents, your unease grew.
The letter detailed a request for a weapon that was unlike any you had crafted before. It was to be a blade of ancient design, infused with a specific type of magic that was rarely practiced anymore. The materials required were rare and dangerous to obtain, including a metal that was said to only be found in the darkest parts of the continent. The weapon needed to be completed within a week—an almost impossible deadline given the complexity of the work.
You frowned as you read further, noting the vague references to the purpose of the weapon. The client mentioned only that it was intended for use against a formidable enemy, but there were no specifics given. The secrecy and urgency of the request set off alarm bells in your mind.
“This doesn’t feel right,” you muttered, half to yourself and half to Alex, who had moved closer to read over your shoulder.
“What do you mean?” Alex asked, his voice tinged with concern.
“The materials, the timeline, the secrecy… it’s all too much,” you replied, folding the letter and setting it down on the counter. “And the fact that he refuses to pay upfront is another red flag. Something about this feels… dangerous.”
Alex nodded, his expression serious. “So, what do we do? Are we going to take the order?”
You hesitated, torn between your curiosity and your instincts. The challenge of crafting such a weapon was undeniably intriguing, but the risks were high, and you didn’t like the idea of being drawn into something you didn’t fully understand.
“I’m not sure yet,” you said finally. “I need to think about it. Maybe do some research on the materials and the magic involved. But I’m not making any decisions until I know more.”
Alex nodded, trusting your judgment. “Alright. Just… be careful, Nana. This feels like it could be bigger than we realize.”
You gave him a reassuring smile, though the unease still lingered in your chest. “I will, Alex. Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out together.”
With that, you turned your attention back to the forge, the mysterious letter still weighing heavily on your mind. Whatever this order was, it had the potential to change everything—and not necessarily for the better.
——
The evening was drawing closer, and you found yourself in your apartment, standing in front of the mirror with a growing sense of frustration. You had been rifling through your wardrobe for what felt like an eternity, trying to find the perfect outfit for your date with Azriel. The more you looked, the more you second-guessed yourself, and now your room was strewn with discarded clothes, each one deemed "not quite right."
Alex was sitting on the edge of your bed, watching you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Stellan, your loyal white direwolf, was lying at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes following your every move with what seemed like a judgmental gaze.
You held up a tunic in front of the mirror, frowning at your reflection. "What do you think of this one?" you asked, turning slightly to get a better look.
Alex rolled his eyes dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Nana, aren't you like, over a hundred years old? And you're struggling to pick an outfit for a date? Seriously?"
You shot him a playful glare through the mirror. "Age has nothing to do with it, thank you very much. And picking the right outfit is important!"
Alex snorted, leaning back on his hands. "Uh-huh. Sure. But honestly, you look good in everything. I don't think Azriel's going to care what you wear."
You sighed, tossing the tunic onto the growing pile of rejected clothes. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to impress anyone."
Alex grinned, clearly enjoying the role reversal. "Oh, come on, Nana. It's just a date. You should be more worried about what you're going to say, not what you're going to wear."
You turned to face him, hands on your hips. "And what exactly do you suggest I say, oh wise one?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I dunno. Maybe start with 'Hey, Azriel, nice wings. Wanna fly me to the moon?'"
You burst out laughing, shaking your head at his antics. "I think I'll pass on that one."
Stellan, sensing that this was a lighter moment, let out a low huff, almost as if he was agreeing with Alex. The wolf’s eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement, and you could have sworn he was judging your fashion choices just as much as Alex was.
You sighed again and picked up a different top, this one more form-fitting. You held it up in front of the mirror, trying to gauge if it was too casual or too dressy.
Alex’s eyes narrowed as he examined the outfit with a critical eye. “Are your boobs bigger?” he asked, completely deadpan.
Your eyes widened, and you turned to him in mock horror. “What? Do I look like I’ve gained weight?”
Alex’s expression quickly shifted to one of concern as he realized his joke had backfired. “No, no! I didn’t mean that! You’re not fat, Nana, I promise!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his flustered reaction, shaking your head as you tossed the shirt aside. “I’m just messing with you, Alex. Relax.”
He let out a sigh of relief, clearly relieved that you weren’t upset. “You had me worried for a second there.”
You smiled warmly at him, ruffling his hair as you walked past him to grab another option from the wardrobe. “You’re sweet, Alex. But seriously, does this look okay?”
You were dressed in a deep, midnight blue tunic that fell gracefully to mid-thigh, the intricate silver embroidery along the edges mimicking the swirling patterns of wind and shadows, reminiscent of the Night Court itself. The sleeves were fitted, flaring slightly at the wrists, ending in cuffs adorned with the same silver embroidery. Beneath the tunic, you wore black, form-fitting trousers that allowed for ease of movement, and knee-high boots made of soft, supple leather, both practical and stylish. A delicate silver chain belt sat low on your hips, catching the light with each movement.
To combat the winter chill, you had chosen a warm, dark jacket to wear over your tunic. The jacket was made of a rich, dark material, lined with soft fur along the collar and cuffs, providing both warmth and a touch of luxury. It complemented the rest of your outfit perfectly, giving you a regal yet grounded appearance.
Alex, who had been observing your preparations with a mix of amusement and interest, gave you an approving nod as you fastened the jacket. "Now that's what I’m talking about, Nana. You look amazing. Azriel’s going to be speechless."
You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the jacket. “Thanks, Alex. I think this is the one.”
Stellan, your ever-faithful direwolf, gave a low, approving rumble as if to agree. His dark eyes gleamed in the dim light of the room, his presence a comforting constant.
Just as you finished getting ready, there was a soft knock on the door. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing who it was. Alex, ever the eager one, darted to the door with a mischievous grin on his face.
“I’ll get it!” he called out, clearly excited to greet your guest.
You watched as Alex opened the door, revealing Azriel standing there, but tonight he looked different. Gone were his usual fighting leathers, replaced with something more relaxed yet still undeniably stylish. He wore a tailored, dark grey tunic with subtle silver accents that highlighted his broad shoulders, paired with black trousers that fit him perfectly. A deep, rich cloak hung loosely around his shoulders, the fabric swaying gently as he moved. The entire look was casual yet elegant, perfectly suited for a night out in Velaris.
Alex, not missing a beat, looked up at Azriel with a teasing grin. “Wow, you clean up nice, Azriel. Ready to take Nana out for the night?”
Azriel chuckled, a rare, genuine smile gracing his lips. “I think so, Alex. And you, Y/N…” His eyes softened as they took in your appearance. “You look stunning.”
A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, Azriel. You look quite handsome yourself.”
Alex, always quick with a quip, shot you a look that clearly said, “Told you so,” before turning back to Azriel. “Make sure she has fun, okay? And don’t worry about me—I’ll be just fine.”
You ruffled Alex’s hair affectionately, laughing at his antics. “There’s food on the counter if you get hungry, and Stellan will keep you company. Stay safe at home, alright?”
Alex grinned, giving you a mock salute. “Aye-aye, Captain. You two have fun.”
With a final glance at Alex and Stellan, you stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind you. Azriel offered you his arm, which you took with a grateful smile, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in his presence.
As you walked down the quiet streets of Velaris, the cold winter air nipping at your cheeks, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation. The stars above twinkled brightly, reflecting off the river as you made your way to your destination.
Azriel’s presence beside you was steady and reassuring, and as you walked together, he glanced over at you with a soft smile. “I’m glad you agreed to this, Y/N. Tonight feels… special.”
You returned his smile, feeling the truth in his words. “It does. I’m looking forward to it.”
The walk through Velaris was quiet and peaceful, with only the soft murmur of the city and the gentle rush of the Sidra River accompanying your steps. Azriel led you through winding streets, each more charming than the last, until you arrived at your destination—a small, secluded restaurant nestled at the edge of the city, overlooking the river.
The restaurant was a hidden gem, its entrance tucked between two tall buildings, with a beautifully carved wooden sign hanging above the door. Soft, golden light spilled from the windows, casting a warm glow onto the cobblestone street outside. As Azriel opened the door for you, you were greeted by the cozy, intimate atmosphere inside. The interior was all dark wood and rich, deep colors, with low-hanging chandeliers that gave off a soft, inviting light. The tables were set with fine linens and polished silver, each one adorned with a small vase of fresh flowers.
Azriel guided you to a corner table near a large window that offered a stunning view of the river, its waters shimmering under the starlit sky. The space was quiet, the other patrons speaking in hushed tones, as if respecting the privacy of each table.
“This place is beautiful,” you remarked, taking in the ambiance as you settled into your seat.
Azriel smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I’m glad you like it. It’s one of my favorite places in the city—a bit of a hidden secret.”
You glanced around, noting the small details that made the place feel special—the soft music playing in the background, the delicate scent of the flowers, the way the light flickered gently from the candles on the tables. It was clear that Azriel had chosen this place with care, and the thoughtfulness of the gesture made your heart warm.
As you both perused the menu, the conversation flowed easily, beginning with the lighter topics of the day. After placing your orders, you found yourself curious about Azriel’s childhood, a side of him that you had never truly explored before.
“So,” you began with a playful smile, “tell me, what was it like growing up with Rhysand and Cassian? I imagine the three of you must have gotten into quite a bit of trouble.”
Azriel chuckled, a soft, genuine sound that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. “You could say that. Rhysand was always the leader, even back then, and Cassian… well, he was always looking for the next adventure. I was the quiet one, trying to keep them out of too much trouble, but somehow, I always ended up in the thick of it with them.”
You leaned forward, intrigued. “Any stories you’re willing to share?”
Azriel thought for a moment, a distant look in his eyes as he recalled memories from long ago. “There was this one time when we were barely teenagers. Rhys had this idea to sneak into the Night Court’s library after hours. There was this old, restricted section that we weren’t supposed to go near, full of ancient texts and magical tomes.”
You smiled, already picturing the scene. “Let me guess, Rhys wanted to read something forbidden?”
“Of course,” Azriel replied, his tone amused. “He convinced Cassian and me to come along, promising it would be worth it. We managed to sneak past the guards, and Rhys found a book he’d been eyeing for months. But as soon as he opened it, a magical trap triggered. The entire library lit up, alarms blaring. We barely made it out before the guards arrived.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m surprised you didn’t get caught.”
“Oh, we did,” Azriel admitted with a grin. “And we were punished accordingly. But Rhys, being Rhys, somehow talked our way out of the worst of it. He’s always had a way with words.”
You could see the fondness in Azriel’s eyes as he spoke of his friends, the bonds they had formed over the years clearly unbreakable. It was a side of him you hadn’t seen often—relaxed, open, and willing to share pieces of himself that he usually kept hidden.
“And what about you?” Azriel asked, turning the conversation back to you. “What was your childhood like? I know you traveled a lot with your master, but there must have been some interesting moments along the way.”
You took a sip of your wine, considering how to answer. “It was… different. My master was strict, but he cared for me in his own way. I learned a lot from him, not just about blacksmithing, but about the world. We traveled to so many places, each with its own challenges and adventures. I suppose I grew up faster than most.”
Azriel nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “You must have seen and experienced so much. It’s no wonder you’re as skilled as you are.”
You smiled softly, appreciating his words. “I suppose I have. But I’ve always felt like there’s more to learn, more to explore. That’s what keeps me going.”
The conversation continued, flowing effortlessly as the night went on. The food arrived, each dish more delicious than the last, and you both took your time savoring the meal, the comfortable silence between you punctuated by occasional remarks about the flavors and presentation.
Eventually, as the meal began to wind down, Azriel leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on you with a mix of curiosity and concern. “So, how are things at the shop? It seems like you’ve been busy lately.”
You nodded, setting down your fork. “Busy is an understatement. We’ve had a lot of orders coming in, which is great, but it’s been a bit overwhelming at times.”
Azriel’s brow furrowed slightly. “Anything in particular causing the stress?”
You hesitated for a moment, then decided to share the details of the strange order you had received that morning. “Actually, there was something unusual that came in today. A man came by with a sealed letter, requesting a weapon that’s… well, different from anything I’ve crafted before. The whole thing felt off, to be honest. He didn’t want to discuss the details in person, just handed over the letter and left.”
Azriel’s curiosity was piqued, his expression serious now. “What kind of weapon did he request?”
You described the contents of the letter, the specific materials required, the urgency of the timeline, and the vagueness of the client’s instructions. As you spoke, Azriel’s frown deepened, his concern evident.
“That does sound strange,” he said after a moment. “And dangerous. You’re right to be cautious.”
You nodded, grateful for his validation. “I’m not sure what to make of it. I’ve been debating whether to take the order at all. It feels like there’s more to this than I’m being told.”
Azriel leaned forward slightly, his tone gentle but firm. “I think you’re right to be wary. Whoever this client is, they might be hiding something. If you’re going to proceed with this, you should be prepared for anything.”
You appreciated his concern, and the protectiveness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll show you the letter when we head back. Maybe you can help me figure out what to do next.”
Azriel nodded, his gaze steady. “I’d like that. We’ll look at it together.”
The seriousness of the conversation lingered for a moment, but Azriel was quick to steer the topic back to something lighter, easing the tension and bringing back the relaxed atmosphere.
The dinner stretched on into the night, with more laughter, shared stories, and the easy comfort of each other's company. The restaurant had thinned out as other patrons gradually departed, leaving the two of you in a peaceful, intimate silence. It felt as though the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the rest of Velaris fading into the background.
When the time finally came to leave, Azriel stood and helped you into your jacket, the warmth of his hands lingering on your shoulders. As you stepped out into the cold night air, he reached for your hand without hesitation, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that felt natural, as if they were always meant to be there.
The two of you walked side by side through the quiet streets of Velaris, the city bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon. The stars twinkled brightly above, casting a gentle glow over the cobblestones, and the distant sound of the Sidra River added a soothing backdrop to the night.
The winter air was crisp, and when a particularly cold breeze swept through, Azriel instinctively drew you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to shield you from the chill. You welcomed the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against your side.
As you walked, your thumb gently caressed the back of his hand, feeling the roughness of the scarred skin beneath your touch. You noticed how his breath hitched slightly, and when you glanced up at him, you saw something flicker in his eyes—a mix of surprise and something deeper, something tender.
Azriel’s hands had always been a point of insecurity for him, scarred from countless battles and years of wielding shadows and steel. But you had never once questioned them, never looked at them with anything other than acceptance. In fact, you had always found them strong, capable, and a part of who he was—someone you respected and cared for deeply.
The simple act of you caressing his hand, without hesitation or judgment, made Azriel’s heart flutter in a way he wasn’t entirely prepared for. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the way you saw him—not as the scarred, hardened warrior, but as someone worthy of affection and tenderness.
He glanced down at you, his gaze softening as he spoke. “You never asked about my hands.”
You looked up at him, your expression gentle. “There’s nothing to ask. They’re a part of you, Azriel. And I’ve never seen them as anything but… you.”
His heart swelled at your words, and he tightened his grip on your hand slightly, as if anchoring himself to the moment. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
You smiled up at him, your thumb still brushing gently against his skin. “Always.”
The two of you continued walking, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as the night unfolded around you. The streets of Velaris were nearly empty, the city’s usual hustle and bustle replaced by the peaceful quiet of the late hour. The stars above seemed to shine even brighter, casting a silvery glow over everything and creating an almost magical atmosphere.
As you walked, you found yourself asking a question that had been on your mind. “Azriel, what do you think life will be like for you in the next few years?”
He paused, considering your question as he looked up at the night sky. “Honestly? I think it’ll be much the same as it is now. My duties as the Spymaster of the Night Court will keep me busy—there’s always something to uncover, some threat to deal with. And, of course, Cassian will never stop making jokes at my expense.”
You chuckled at that, picturing the constant banter between Azriel and Cassian. “I’m sure he keeps things interesting.”
Azriel smiled, his gaze shifting back to you. “He does. But… I think I’m starting to appreciate the moments of peace more, the times when I can step back and just… be.”
“And what about you?” he asked, his tone curious. “What do you see in the next few years?”
You took a moment to think about it, your eyes drifting to the beautiful city around you. “I think I’ll stay in Velaris for a long time. Alex and I have built something special here, and I want to see it grow. The shop is doing well, and I’d like to keep developing it, maybe even expand one day. Stellan will keep us company, of course.”
Azriel nodded, listening intently. “That sounds… peaceful. It suits you.”
You smiled softly, feeling a sense of contentment in the vision you were painting. But as you walked, the conversation took a natural pause, and you both found yourselves stopping, turning to face each other in the quiet street.
There was something unspoken hanging in the air, a tension that had been building throughout the night, and it felt like the moment to address it had finally arrived. You met Azriel’s gaze, your heart pounding softly in your chest as you spoke.
“Whatever happens in the next few years,” you began, your voice steady but soft, “I hope that… we’ll be close. That we’ll be linked somehow.”
Azriel’s expression softened, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Linked, huh? I like the sound of that.”
The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and stars. The night was stunningly beautiful, the kind of night that seemed to embody everything the Night Court stood for—mystery, beauty, and an underlying power that was impossible to ignore.
Azriel’s hand came up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your breath catch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, but you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss.
The kiss was gentle at first, a sweet exploration of new territory. But as you responded, as you pressed closer to him, it deepened, growing more intense, more urgent. His hand slid into your hair, pulling you closer still, and you melted into him, letting the warmth of his embrace and the passion of the moment wash over you.
By the time you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. The world seemed to have stopped around you, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the night.
Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke, his breath warm against your lips. “Y/N…”
You smiled, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at him. “Yes, Azriel?”
He didn’t say anything else, just leaned in to kiss you again, his lips claiming yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. And in that moment, under the stars of Velaris, you knew that this was just the beginning of something truly extraordinary.
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scarltzwitch · 1 month
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BETWEEN CLAWS AND CHALLENGES — LOGAN HOWLETT.
PAIRING: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader.
SUMMARY: Logan meets a young woman during a cage fight. Despite his reluctance to hit her, she challenges him to a fight.
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The underground fight club was buzzing with excitement. Lights flickered over the steel cage, and the atmosphere was charged with adrenaline. Cheers and shouts filled the air as Logan Howlett, known as Wolverine, prepared for the next fight.
Logan stooned in his corner, his andamantium claws gleaming under the lights. His opponent, a burly fighter with an aggressive style was stretching and getting ready for the match. The crowd wass wild with anticipation.
A figure caught his eyes in the crowd. A young woman watched from a corner. Her presence was commanding, with an air of strenght that radiated from her. She possessed extraordinary strength and agility, her movements a blend of grace and power, honed by intense training.
The young brunette approached the cage. Its was her first time challenging someone as formidable as Logan, but her determination was clear. She wanted to test her recent discoveries about her own powers and see just how far she could go.
The fight began with a intensity that took everyone with surprise. Logan, though hesitant to hit a woman, couldn't help but be impressed by her skill and strength. She dodged with agility and countered his attacks with notable force.
Meanwhile, the burly fighter in the corner of The cage couldn't contain his curiosity.
“Who is this intruder daring to challenge Logan?”
The young woman met his gaze unflinchingly. “I’m someone who’s been waiting for the right moment to prove herself. You’re just another step on my path.”
Logan, with a mix of surprise and respect, turned to her.
“So you came here to challenge me? I have to admit, this is not something I expected.”
“Then,” she replied with a defiant smile, “get ready for a challenge. I’m not here just to entertain you, but to prove I have what it takes.”
Logan nodded, intrigued by her attitude. “I wouldn’t expect less. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The fight continued with both fighters showcasing their skills to the fullest. Logan threw powerful and quick strikes, but the young woman moved with fluid grace, absorbing and countering each attack with impressive skill.
During a brief pause, Logan approached her with a look of admiration. “I’ve never seen someone so determined in the ring. Where did you get that drive?”
She panted slightly, but her gaze remained steady. “I came here with a purpose. Not just to fight, but to challenge my own limits. Sometimes, you only learn when faced with a true test.”
Logan smiled, nodding. “You’ve got guts. And you’ve managed to keep me on edge.”
She returned his smile, her face reflecting the satisfaction of the fight. “Thanks. This was a real challenge.”
Logan watched her for a moment, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through him. “So, what’s next?”
She stepped closer with a playful glint in her eyes. “I’d invite you for a beer, but only if you can keep up. What do you say?”
Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“Is that a challenge?”
“Something like that,” she replied with a mischievous grin and smiling.
“It’s not a fight, but it won’t be easy to keep up with me.”
Logan look at her with a mix of respect and curiosity.
“I accept the challenge. Let’s see if you can keep up outside the ring.”
They left the fight club together, leaving the cage behind, with a new connection beginning to form between them.
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@ipreferreadingtocope
It might not be the best one-shot, but I made my small effort. Apologies for any errors it might have. But I hope you enjoy it.
— Lily. 💜
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azzibuckets · 5 months
Text
Paper Rings [Part 3/10 | Paige Bueckers]
Paige Bueckers x fem!reader
Summary: part 3 of the paper rings series! some insight into paige and reader’s friendship before everything happened
A/N: some fluff and fillers before the angst gets real 💔💔
word count: 1.9k
masterlist w/ all parts
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FLASHBACK: 1 YEAR AGO
“Is this yours?”
You had been rummaging through Paige’s closet, looking for a clean oversized shirt to wear to sleep. You two often slept over at each other’s place, to the point where your clothes were so mixed up you guys basically shared the same wardrobe. Unfortunately, Paige wasn’t the most organized person, so you were huffing and puffing as you hunted through the piles in the drawers.
The shirt you were holding up had LVN Volleyball Camp splayed across the front, so you knew it definitely wasn’t Paige’s. It was really big though, so you were curious as to whose it was. Just to know if you could wear it or not, you convinced yourself. Not because you were trying to confirm your fears - that this was another girl who Paige had held that wasn’t you.
Paige didn’t look up from her phone when you asked your question, so you crumpled the shirt up into a ball and tossed it at her head. You were no basketball player, but the balled up shirt smacked her on target, right in the face, and you fought back a self satisfied smile.
Paige finally looked up, giving you one of her soft smiles that tugged at your heartstrings. You loved when Paige looked at you like that, all gentle and affectionate, with half of her mouth turned up into a close mouthed grin that you knew so well.
“The shirt,” you gestured at it.
“Oh.” She looked down, unfolding the shirt and studying it before giving out a laugh. “Shit, sorry, that’s Stacy’s. I don’t know how it ended up in my closet. She was just here yesterday.” She folded the shirt into a neat little square and placed it next to her on the bed. “We must’ve been getting a little bit too wild,” she smirked, waggling her eyebrows at me.
Your heart sunk. Yesterday? You mean, you knew Paige talked to a lot of people, but she usually didn’t talk much about it, probably because she knows you get grossed out with too many details. Your chest stinging, you went to sit on the bed next to her. You didn’t wanna find a shirt anymore. All you wanted to do was go to sleep after a long day.
“What’s up? What’s got you being so emo?” Paige got down to lie her head in your lap, looking up at you with her bright blue eyes. Her was nose scrunched slightly, in the way that she does when she’s happy, and she reached up to play with the ends of your hair, twirling the strands between her fingers.
“Nothing. Just tired and moody,” you lied. You drummed your fingers against your thigh.
Paige smirked. “You really need to get laid, Y/N,” she laughed.
You managed to muster out a weak half smile in response to her words, trying to shove down the itchy pain that rose in your heart. “Shut up, Bueckers.”
“Make me.”
You rolled my eyes at her senseless teasing. “You’re such a flirt,” you groaned. Pushing her off your lap, you got up to look for your charger. You could feel Paige’s eyes on you as you moved about her room. Her legs were splayed out, and she was slumped on the bed. You hated when she did that, just looked at you. It felt like she was studying you all bare under a microscope.
The dynamic between the two of you had definitely shifted since last month, ever the drunken incident on the Big East championship night. You had mumbled apologies the morning after, when she had swung by before practice to make sure you were alright. She didn’t really listen to them, shoving you in that good natured way and assuring you that you guys were “chill like that” and that she could never be really mad at you.
But ever since then, there’d been a tension between the two of you. It spiked in moments like this, where she would start shamelessly flirting with you, trying to get a rise out of you. You didn’t mind much, per se, until you really thought about it and realized there was no meaning behind her flirting. But that was a disappointing reality you were trying to ignore.
“Come back to bed,” Paige called out. This time, you couldn’t tell if she’d meant for it to sound so sexual, but you crawled back into the bed where Paige was bundled up under the sheets.
“You look like a kid,” you giggled, “all wrapped up like a burrito.”
Paige rolled her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. You felt her grab your waist and pull you closer so now you were both under the mountain of blankets and pillows she had formed. “You’re so warm,” she mumbled sleepily, pressing her forehead against your shoulder.
Both of you knew this was not how normal best friends slept together have a sleepover. But neither of you cared. This was where you felt most comfortable in the world, with Paige’s arm slung across your chest and one of her legs intertwined between yours. Her face was buried in your neck now, and her hair tickled your cheeks.
You could get used to this forever, you thought as you went to sleep.
——————————
Your heart thrummed with anticipation. Today was the day UConn would face off against Louisville in the Final Four of March Madness. You missed Paige; the last time you saw her was when you slept over two days ago. Ever since then, she’d be busy, understandably so. Basketball was her life, and she dedicated all of herself to the sport in times of competition like this.
Paige had gotten you a court-side ticket using one of the family spots allotted to her. Only her dad, step-mom, and Drew could make it to the game; her mom’s side of the family were on a vacation in Spain. On one side of you was Drew, who was happily bouncing in his seat, wearing one of his sister’s jerseys that was adorably big for him, and on the other side was Kayla, who’d gotten this game off but still wanted to watch anyways to support the girls.
As you watched the game, you oscillated between moments of pure joy and happiness when Paige sunk one of her 3s, moments of anger when one of the girls got fouled on without getting any calls for it, and moments of uncertainty when Louisville scored another point and the UConn girls tried to fight off their dejection from showing on their faces.
But you started to stay in the realm of uncertainty once Louisville started gaining, leading by 12 at the end of the third quarter.
“Are they gonna lose, Y/N?” Drew turned to you with a hopeful look in his eyes. You swallowed the knot in your throat. Basketball was everything to this team, and they’d worked so hard to get here. They didn’t deserve to lose, not when they were this close to the national championship.
“I hope not, buddy,” you responded quietly, and ruffled his hair. For the last quarter, Drew gripped your hand, swinging his legs anxiously as the game unfolded.
Despite the team’s best efforts, UConn fell to Louisville, 75-66, and the girls walked off the court, pain fresh in their eyes, their necks steeped with sweat and jerseys sticking damp to their chest. They moved tiredly, some of them being collected for brief post-game interviews while all of the others headed back to the locker rooms.
You made eye contact with Paige, and she pursed her lips, shaking her head sadly before slinging a towel around her neck and following the rest of the girls out.
“She looks so sad,” Drew’s voice was quiet next to you. You could tell he was upset too.
“It’s okay, buddy,” you assured him. “You know what? I bet they’re still selling the pretzels outside. Wanna come with me and see if they have any more churro bites?” Drew’s face lit up at that, and he eagerly shot up from his seat and grabbed your hand.
Paige’s dad, Bob, shot you a grateful smile. “We’ll find Paige, talk to her. You guys join us after, alright?”
You nodded, leading Drew out. To your luck, the pretzel stand had one more scoop of churro bites left that the man gave to you for free since they were closing down.
“Good, Drew?” You reached around him and stole one of the churro bites, popping one in your mouth.
“Y/N!” He groaned, sending me a fake glare. “Now you owe me.”
“I brought you all the way over here for pretzels and I owe you?” You gasped in offense, folding your arms and sending him a fake glare back.
He nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Now you owe me a piggy back ride.”
You laughed. “Okay, hop on,” you agreed, bending down. Drew cheered and jumped on your back, causing you to stumble forward. Both of you giggled as you straightened yourself, and you carried Drew all the way down to the locker rooms.
A security guard stood in the entrance to the hall of the locker rooms, a bored look in his eyes. As you tried to pass, he raised a hand. “Sorry miss,” he stated in a monotonous voice. “Players only.”
“It’s alright, she’s with me,” a voice called out. You looked up to see Paige at the end of the hall, her hair wet and tied up in a loose bun. Even after having just played a tough game, she looked unbelievably gorgeous, her cheeks rosy from the exertment from earlier.
“Paigey!” Drew clambered off my back and barreled into Paige, squeezing his little arms around her waist. Paige, ever the big sister, managed to push aside her feelings from the Final Four loss and look happy for Drew, whom she hadn’t seen in months.
“Hey, bud,” she said quietly, bending down to give him a proper hug. “I missed you.”
They talked in low tones for a moment, Paige smiling fondly at her little brother, before Azzi came along from the locker rooms and stole Drew away to meet the other girls.
Now it was just you and Paige in the hall. She stood up, and you moved to her. Before you knew it, she was in your arms, hugging you so tight you could barely breathe. You wrapped your arms around her, one hand coming up to play with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, an effort to do whatever possible to comfort her.
“Hey,” you turned your head so your mouth was next to her ear. You whispered in her ear gently, “It’s not your fault.”
Paige drew back, her eyes glassy. Breathing shakily, she said, “All those 3s that I missed. Geno was counting on me. He said I had to step up since Azzi was injured, but I didn’t step up. I missed so many.”
I gripped her waist. “Look at me,” I said firmly. When she looked up to made eye contact, I brought my hands up to hold her face so that she couldn’t look away. “What about all the points that you did make? And all the plays you set up for your teammates? I don’t know much basketball, but I watched you out there, and you played with so much fierceness and grit. You played so goddamn good. Don’t be ashamed. At all.”
Paige reluctantly nodded, before pulling me into another hug. We stood there silently, her face buried in my neck and my arms hooked around her waist, until one of the UConn team assistants came bounding the hall.
“Uh,” he scratched his neck nervously as his eyes flitted between the two of us. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Paige to do press.”
Paige groaned. She stepped back, separating our bodies. “Come over later?” She whispered. “Please?” Her eyes searched mine, all hopeful. She was hurting, and hurting bad.
“Of course, P.” I squeezed her hand before stepping back too, letting the assistant shuffle her away to the press hall.
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