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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 years ago

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WOMANIZER

Pairing: Mor x Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: girls just being horny for one another, consider reader kinda like Satine from Moulin Rouge, or even like the mata hari

Words:2767

Summary: For shits and giggles, Mor accompanies the Shadowsinger and General to see one of the Day Court’s famous showhouses. It’s said that the most beautiful temptress with Illyrian wings dances for the wealthy.

*I know in SJM's universe the words 'man' and 'woman' aren't used to describe fae genders but for the sake of this story, I'm going to push that fact aside since I really like the title name :)

*doesn't really follow any canonical timeline

*This is my first time writing for ACOTAR so please be kind

Mor stares at the finely painted poster depicting a curvaceous female with bat-like wings trailing behind her. She wonders if the painter exaggerated her beauty or if it how the female truly was.

Either way she thought it would be amusing to go along with Cassian’s suggestion.

He’d heard talk all over the Day Courts of the performer known as the Temptress with Wings. Illyrians weren’t necessarily big celebrities in Prythian. They chose to stay in their mountains and commit themselves to savagery. The Temptress was different. Or so that’s what Cassian heard.

Unfortunately Azriel wasn’t as willing as a companion. He put up with his brother dragging him by the shirtsleeve and the stares that were being shot their way.

Chuckling to herself, Mor shakes her head. Those two could act like petulant children sometimes.

She picks up her pace to catch up with them and holds up three tickets. “They’ll turn the two of you away if you go in there looking like you kidnapped Az. Plus you need your tickets.”

Outside stained glass doors, decorated with warm oranges and reds to imitate the nature of the night’s performance. While Mor had been doubtful about this adventure, all was swept under the rug when the trio steps through the grand entrance of the showhouse the Den.

A wave of anticipation starts to thrum against her pulse. Her brown eyes round in awe.

Every sense is held captive, a mesmerizing fusion of opulence and seduction is rolled out in front of her. Of course, only in Helion's domain would there be such splendor; a haven where temptation was shamelessly displayed for all to see. Bathed in a soft, golden glow, the walls are adorned with tapestries depicting other performers that had resided there at one point in time. They were stitched in poses of passion and desire.

Cassian and Azriel too are captivated by all around them yet the other attendees go about their business, waiting for the show to begin so that they may entertain the main hall.

Mor picked up on the heavy scent in the air of exotic perfumes mingling with a small instrumental band that played on a smaller dais. Their intoxicating melody floated through the air to mingle with the perfume.

"Every corner of this place is a masterpiece." Azriel murmurs, the first thing any of them has said since entering. Az cranes his neck up to check out the ceiling. Crystal chandeliers cascade from the top, multi colored lights cast a dazzling stained glass affect on the marble floor beneath them (much like the front windows).

Releasing a low whistle, Cassian puts his hands in his pockets. He looked and felt a little out of place. His frame was already large without his wings carefully tucked in. Even the rugged charm of his face couldn't compare to the polished beauty of the other guests. This didn't stop him from shooting Mor an excited smile.

As the doors to the show hall were still closed, they wade through others to get to the bar that was filled to the brim of every alcoholic drink Prythian had to offer.

Subtly, Mor listens in on a few conversations going around her.

"I didn't think an Illyrian could be graceful. (y/n) is really something else." A well dressed male comments with a toothy grin. "It's near impossible to book a private meeting with her though."

His companion groans. "I know. You'd have to be as wealthy as the high lord to get into contact with her."

Off to her other side, a woman complains to her friend "Such a backwards people shouldn't be let into our society." She scoffs and uses her fan to cool herself off as the room was growing warm with so many bodies pressed together.

Her friend disagreed. "Now I don't know about other Illyrians, but she doesn't seem to be like them. I hear her father was a high fae and once he heard about the wing clipping he took his daughter out of there and raised her among us."

That knowledge didn't make (y/n) anymore endearing to the first female. "So she's a mongrel then."

Mor keeps her face smooth, concealing the nasty look she wanted to shoot toward the cynical female. But many would think the same.

Azriel, as was his job, had been absentmindedly listening as well to the flow of different conversations. His own brow twitched at catching the mongrel remark. "Yet here she is paying good money to watch a mongrel perform." He grits out under his breath.

Tossing his drink back, Cass keeps the mood light by saying "Hey it's (y/n) whose having the last laugh. With this crowd, she'll be raking in all that gold by the end of the night."

True.

The reception room, while large, was bursting at the seams with males and females alike. There would be quite a lot of money to count come closing. Wealth was something this (y/n) was not lacking in.

Finally, several sets of double doors swing open, welcoming everyone into the actual show room that was no less elegant. The flow of the crowd is calm like a river as people spill into the show room, going to their respective seats and tables. Balcony seating had dining tables available for those who wanted to eat and watch the performance without disturbing the audience.

They take their respective seats, eyes falling upon the empty stage with titillation.

Once everyone is seated, a hush descends as the lights of the stage are lit and a symphony of sound, color and movements dazzles them. Out steps the most beautiful creature Mor had ever laid eyes on. (y/n) is adorned in an elaborate costume (much like the one she wears on the poster) that leaves little to the imagination. Gold adorned her wrists and ankles as well as the delicate structure of her neck. Her wings trail behind her and move in a perfect, fluid harmony as her hands flutter; inviting the crowd to the forbidden pleasures that would unravel on stage. The skirt she wore was of the faintest lavender hue and dangled with tinkling bells as she danced.

Everyone held their breath.

The way she moved with her wings, unperturbed by their existence and even utilizing them in her act.

And then she sang.

The audience had already been a sea of enraptured faces, but the moment she parted her lips, no one stood a chance at concentrating on anything else but her. The most heavenly voice she had ever heard resonated through the showhouse, filling every empty corner with its ethereal beauty. Divinity was woven into the fabric of her vocal cords as (y/n) crooned. It wrapped around the hearts of not just Mor, but also her companions who sat dumbstruck.

(y/n)'s voice was magic itself. Lyrics that spill from her paint vivid images and evoked emotions she had never experienced before. Something like this, Mor was sure, could heal wounds, mend broken hearts and ignite hope within the darkest of souls.

Every cruel memory that made up Mor's past vanished. Meaningless.

Her wings, which she spread out to fan behind her, shimmer against the multicolored lights of the stage. Fluttering gently along with her swaying body.

There was a moment where she could have sworn she caught (y/n)'s teasing eyes. That a fleeting smile graced (y/n)'s lips when she spotted Mor. But the moment vanished just as soon as it had happened making Mor doubtful about the exchange. Still, even that bit of attention from her had Mor drawn in deeper.

How long had they all been held captive by (y/n)? Mor wasn't sure.

Only when the music ended at (y/n) walked off stage did people leap to their feet in thunderous applause and roars for an encore.

Mor, Az and Cass simply sit there in awe.

It had taken a lot of strength for the trio to peel themselves out of their seats and go back out into reality. They felt dazzed and lost but grateful for experiencing such a show.

"Aren't you glad I dragged you here?" Cassian jokes as they go back out into the reception hall to grab one more drink before leaving.

Azriel shakes his head but he had a smile on his face. "Don't push it."

Mor chuckles but a tap on her shoulder as her straightening her back to address whoever had tapped her.

"You've been requested an audience by (y/n)."

Cassian and Azriel gawk, a little jealous that Mor had been chosen specifically.

Hesitantly she follows the usher before telling the boys she would catch up with them later.

Down one corridor were secret alcoves, covered by velvet curtains. An incredibly intimate warmth runs up Mor's neck as the usher pulls back one curtain to reveal (y/n) among dozens of bouquets and boxes with glittering jewels. She'd looked bored before Mor was introduced. Her (e/c) eyes came to life and she beckons Mor to come in.

The usher leaves the two alone as Mor makes her way through the throng of strong smelling flowers.

"I must admit, it's quite the honor to have the Night Court's most trusted advisors watching me perform." Her voice is of the finest skill as she purrs, patting the spot next to her on the love seat. She no longer wore her costume, but a lightweight robe that still revealed every curve of her body.

Mor smiles, forcing her heart to get a grip. "The honor was our's. I've. . . We've never seen an Illyrian like you before. Not one that can move or sing like that. You were magnificent." She watches intently as (y/n) grabs a bottle from a tub of ice and hands Mor a long stemmed glass.

"I doubt Illyrians would ever even entertain the idea of performing for high fae." (y/n) rolls her eyes. "My father took me back once to the mountains where my mother's people live. That much was enough for me."

Pursing her lips, Mor nods. The words of the woman in the reception hall are repeated in her head.

Mor could see the pointed tips of (y/n)'s ears, the only sign that she was only half-Illyrian. Much like Rhysand's. Up close, Mor could even see a spattering of freckles on the bridge of (y/n)'s nose. Mor was distracted by the halflings beauty as (y/n) chattered away.

"-and when I saw you. Mother above." (y/n) laughed out. "I'm sure everyone tells you that you have to be the most beautiful female in the entire known world. I almost forgot the words of the song and my footing."

Cheeks flushing, Mor smiles for she was thinking the same about (y/n). "It means a lot more coming from you. We heard your praises while waiting for the show to start." Alcohol is definitely warming her up and making her tongue loose. This wouldn't be the first time Mor had courted a female, but this would be the first time she has met her match in a potential partner.

"Yes, I'm sure you heard more than praises out there." Unconsciously, (y/n)'s shoulder leans against Mor's arm as both get comfortable with one another. This is not an unwelcome contact for Mor as the mere touch has a blaze engulfing the Morrigan. "No doubt you heard how I entertain rich males and bleed them dry."

"Have you ever invited Helion back here?" Mor takes a sip. Certainly the high lord with a high libido would not have let this treat go unsavored. Helion didn't seem like one put off by Illyrian wings considering he has asked for a four way that including Az and Cassian.

She nods. "Oh of course. He is the most generous of my patrons. But you can imagine he doesn't stop by often. What with being the high lord, he has more things on his mind than a pretty singer."

But (y/n) wasn't just a singer. That much Mor was sure about. If (y/n) had it in mind, she could be a sorceress and wield the most powerful magic. Her voice had influenced all in the room. Imagine that kind of power on the battlefield.

One could view Mor's that's as her trying to come up with a reason for the Illyrian singer to stay with her when she'd inevitably go back to Velaris. (y/n) could be useful to Rhysand but Helion would loathe to have such a renowned performer leave his court.

As bottles were emptied, Mor and (y/n) grew more comfortable around one another to where Mor had her legs drapped over (y/n)'s thighs while she ran a perfectly manicured hand along the length. This send shivers through Mor.

They spoke about everything under the sun from war to art to even Mor's upbringing in the Court of Nightmares. She couldn't bring herself to mention everything that transpired with her family and Eris. Maybe. . . Maybe some other time. But the mood was light and Mor didn't want to ruin it. Not when (y/n) was tracing intricate designs on Mor's thigh. Damn was it waking up every nerve on her skin and even more so it lit a needy sensation between her legs.

In the back of her mind, Mor reminds herself that this is what (y/n) did for a living. Of course not even Mor could refuse such seduction.

(Y/n) had not mentioned anything along the lines of payment as she genuinely seemed to want to be in Mor’s presence. At such ease with Mor’s shapely legs draped over her. Electric tingles sent chills up her arms when a finely shaped nail ever so gently scrapes along her skin. Her huge bat wings didn’t even appear to be in the way, the hung off over the back of the loveseat.

Illyrian wings were so sensitive. That was what the male part of the inner circle said. If Mor were to ghost her fingers along the leathery skin of (y/n)’s wings she wondered if the singer would mind. She’d never touched Cassian’s or Azriel’s and definitely not Rhysand’s.

So mesmerized, she missed the way a pair of dark eyes admiring the contours of her face, the pair of full lips painted in a alluring poppy red.

She likes the blonde’s appreciative gaze on her wings. They had escaped the plague of scars and deformity like many Illyrian women had due to the grotesque tradition of wing clipping. It wasn’t flattery that made (y/n) praise Mor’s beauty. When she saw Mor in the crowd, well, she knew she wouldn’t be having any other visitors that night. Perhaps not for a while depending how long Mor planned to stay in the court. Growing weary of the groveling of men, not even their money made up for what (y/n) had to put up with. They always wanted more than what she would give them. All the males (maybe except for Helion) were greedy. The few women she'd had in the past were more agreeable lovers. But females were often intimidated by (y/n) and tend to lean on being resentful toward her for her charms.

Not Mor though. She knew Rhysand's trusted advisor would not see her as a threat but a companion.

A heady fragrance of perfume and with the taste of intoxicating drinks in their system heightened their senses and emboldened there desires.

Before Mor could come to a conclusion on if she would brush her fingertips against (y/n)'s wings, the singer coaxed Mor's face to turn to face her with gentle fingers. She leaned closer and brushed her lips against Mor's. From that simple contact, a jolt went through the blonde. Tender and passionate became the exchange. Sound coming from outside of their intimate cocoon faded away leaving just the two of them in their own little world.

Countless kisses were shared that Mor began to lose track of the count and time for that matter. Hands flutter and grope at anything they could get ahold of. Never had Mor felt so complete before and so lost.

Her heart burned with the knowledge that their paths would cross again. How, she didn't know. But she'd be damned if this would be their one and only night together. If required, she would go to Rhys and tell him of her desire to have (y/n) by her side and perhaps he could come to an agreement with Helion to relinquish the beloved singer.

Finally pulling away with bruised and swollen lips, (y/n) smiled at her as if having the same thoughts.

They would meet again. Both females would make sure of that.

#acotar #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert #a court of thorns and roses #mor x reader #mor acotar #morrigan #acotar morrigan #morrigan acotar #acotar the morrigan #morrigan x reader #acotar mor #acotar series #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction

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catapparently · 1 year ago

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Hold Me Through the Darker Times

AO3 LINK • MASTERLIST

dean x cassie In which there's a power outage and Dean gets flashbacks. Cassie gives him his well-deserved cuddles. Note: this fic is amongst my first ever written, and the writing is not to my taste. It might get rewritten soon.

I sat on the edge of the pool, staring down at the outline of the crime scene recreation at the bottom. The fake blood, painted on the tiles to look as realistic as possible, glistened under the soft pool lights. The water felt cool against my bare ankles and feet, swirling every time the sharp autumn breezed brushed over the surface.

My thoughts drifted off to Dean and his father. He keeps saying that he’s fine, though he’s clearly not. Sloane, who stays up late working on her dangerous and definitely not legal projects, told me that Dean hasn’t been sleeping too much lately. She hears footsteps from his room in the dead of night, often followed by constant clanking and banging. Then, bundled up in many layers of clothes, he stays on the balcony or at the kitchen table for hours, lost in thought, lighting a single candle.

I knew that Dean has some mental blockage with the darkness and very early mornings. One day, we came back to the safe house very late from an investigation with Agent Sterling. It was nearly midnight. He was oddly jittery, and he was a bit clingier than usual, not wanting to let go of my hand. He’d avoided Sterling like the plague.

Suddenly, my blood froze in my veins as all the lights went off. Even the faint humming of the electricity in the walls disappeared. It was eerily silent, so silent I’d heard the strange sounds of furniture being moved in the rooms upstairs. Dean’s room.

I quickly got up from my seat on the edge of the pool and carefully made my way back inside the safe house, keeping an arm in front of me to feel the familiar furniture and hallways under my fingertips. I couldn’t see a thing and, surely, neither could Dean.

I passed the infamous wall of portraits and soon found myself in front of Dean’s door. They’d called the portraits on the wall a “reminder”, a reminder of what we were here for. When Lia had first welcomed me at my arrival, she said that it was especially “for Dean”. What did that mean? Surely she knew about his past. We all did. Why would he need yet another reminder of who his father, whose portrait was at the top, is? It angered me, a scarlet red blazing fury making me want to tear them all down, so scarlet it was maroon.

I hesitated in front of his door. Should I knock or just barge in? I finally decided and slowly turned the doorknob, intentionally making noise so that Dean would be fully aware someone was there.

I gently stepped into his dark room and was met with the sound of short, shaky breaths that could be heard from a far corner. “Dean. It’s me, Cassie,” I whispered into the room.

I had to make sure that he knew it was me, lest I would have to handle a panic attack from him. He still had terrible nightmares from back in the day when Daniel made him watch and listen to all the murders and tortures he committed, and Dean was still not over it. How could anyone be? He was a child. A child.

He’d pushed his bed snug in the corner of the room and was sitting where the walls met, cuddled up between large pillows and blankets and clutching his legs tightly to his chest. It seemed as though he’d made his own fortress to keep him safe… from Daniel Redding. From a Veronica Sterling. From every single part of his past that still tormented him, even to this day. He wasn’t to blame. Who could possibly forget and move on from all of that? Especially when it was your own father? Your own flesh and blood, the one who sets you forward into his legacy.

There was no electricity. No light, no sound. No warmth. It must have reminded him of back then. I didn’t even need to profile him to deduce it. No, one night, by the lake, he’d told me, bit by bit, the tales of his childhood with his father. Through silent tears and shaky tremors he’d relived everything, from the way he carved his initial into Sterling’s arm to the way he could still hear the screams and wails of the victims, all staring at his frozen form, traumatized and wide-eyed, hoping for some sort of help. He cried, like never before.

I waddled over to the side of his bed and sat down, trying to not re-balance the mattress too much. I crawled over beside him and pulled him closer into my arms with slower, cautious movements, making sure not to startle him.

Dean buried his teary-eyed face in the crook of my neck, his lips softly grazing my pulse, making sure I’m really there and alive. That I didn’t end up like them. His breathing had slowed, gentle warm puffs blowing on my neck. I could feel his gentle, atrociously long eyelashes brushing against my jawline, and half of my face was buried in his fluffy tufts of blonde hair.

I gently kissed his hairline and cradled the back of his head, murmuring softly into his ear. “It’s just a power outage, Dean. Agent Sterling is somewhere down the hall in her chambers. I’m here. We’re all here; Michael, Lia, Sloane… I’m sure that Sloane, craving opportunities to take apart something, is already working on getting the power back before the electricity guys make it to our block. Breathe, Dean.”

It was incredibly sweet how he was leaning on me but making sure not to shift too much weight onto me to not crush my body. He always treated his things with such gentleness and care.

I caressed the higher part of his back, my palm going in slow, comforting circles. Dean carefully pressed his lips to the underside of my jaw. “Thank you, Cassie. I love you more than anything in the world.”

#the naturals #jennifer lynn barnes #dean redding #cassie hobbes #Cassandra Hobbes #fluff #hurt/comfort #maroon taylor swift #daddy issues #dean x cassie #sloane tavish #veronica sterling #tanner briggs #lia zhang #michael townsend #all in #killer instinct #bad blood #twelve

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yuungmenace · 2 years ago

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* ◟ : 〔 BILL SKARSGÅRD , CIS MAN + HE / HIM 〕 DONOVAN 'DONNIE' KOWALSKI , some say you’re a TWENTY NINE YEAR OLD lost soul among the neon lights. known for being both HUMOROUS and IMPULSIVE, one can’t help but think of SHUT ME UP by MINDLESS SELF INDULGENCE when you walk by. are you still a SOLDIER for WHITE CROCODILES, even with your reputation as THE RABID DOG? i think we’ll be seeing more of you and BURN SCARS FROM STUBBING OUT CIGARETTES ON SKIN, SPLIT LIPS THAT HIDE A BLOODIED GRIN AND NOTCHES ON A BEDPOST FOR A KILL-COUNT, although we can’t help but think of GORO MAJIMA ( YAKUZA ) + MURDOC ( GORILLAZ ) + ALFIE SOLOMONS ( PEAKY BLINDERS ) whenever we see you down these rainy streets.

FULL NAME: Donovan ‘Donnie’ Kowalski NICKNAME(S): Don, Donnie, Kowalski, AGE: Twenty-Nine GENDER: Cis Male PRONOUNS: He/Him/His BIRTHPLACE: Chester, Pennsylvania OCCUPATION: Gas store clerk GANG AFFILIATION: Soldier for White Crocodiles FC: Bill Skarsgard

APPEARANCE

HAIR COLOUR: Light Brown EYE COLOUR: Green HEIGHT: 6”3 PIERCINGS?: Left ear, tongue, both nipples. TATTOOS: Multiple, most prominent are ‘EAT SHIT AND DIE’ on his neck, a white-ink crocodile on his left hand and the Eye of Horus on both palms.

TRAITS

POSITIVE: Funny, Confident, Dedicated NEGATIVE: Impulsive, Unreasonable, Boisterous

BACKGROUND

TW drugs, murder, child abuse, child neglect, death, prison

Does it matter when he was born? Donovan doesn’t think so, life’s a blur when you’re that age, it only really begins when you can remember it did. He remembers stained mattresses, sandwiches of white bread and jelly and reruns of late night cop shows. The house was filthy, he was filthy, yet nobody seemed to care about it. What he does know is he was angry, always angry, as his sisters and brothers came along all he felt was rage at the person he called mother laid on the couch, staring with glazed eyes at the ceiling and father, drinking from large bottles of vodka and smacking his face when he didn’t change a diaper. Donovan tried - he always tried to make things easier, tried to make sure there was food in the cupboards, tried to make sure his momma didn’t choke on her vomit, that when men came over they all stayed in their rooms and waited for them to leave. If teachers or parents at school noticed how small all the Kowalski kids were, they didn’t say anything, a scruffy family.

Things like this don’t end well, and to this day Donovan doesn’t know what happened. The shed out in the woods, the one where substances were made (they brew potions, he once told his younger sister, dangerous ones so you need to stay out) suddenly blew into a storm of fire and death. Donovan lost both his parents.

He should’ve called someone but didn't. He knew what would happen - they’d split up the remainder of the family. Once again he tried to keep things going, selling jewelry, telling the others that it was just them now. Mom and Dad weren’t coming back, but it was going to be alright. The money ran out though, the food ran out and one day his younger sister let slip to someone who cared that Mummy hadn’t been around for nearly two weeks now. Not once did he say anything, lips tightly shut as he sat in a small chair in a room that was painted brightly. Toys on the floor, cartoon stickers for doing so well talking to the nice officer lady! Bodies were recovered, fractured events pieced together. Donovan hugged them all and said he’d come visit. Then the Kowalski kids were split up, and he never saw any of them again.

Fast forwards to orphanages, fostering, kicked out for running away. Another family, knocking out his step-brothers front tooth. Another family, kicking the cat. Another family, stealing cigarettes. It didn’t matter how loving they were, how many difficult kids they’d worked with, Donovan was always the breaking point. He barely attended school, preferring to hang out in parks or on street corners with his friends and commit petty arson and robberies. This behavior escalated, sending him to juvie once or twice before Donovan aged out of the system. It was always petty crime and shitty jobs, though his criminal history meant they were hard to come by. Luck was never on his side till he ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time - a gang fight. It was nothing to do with him of course, he was familiar with some low-level activities but not this. He shouldn’t have got involved but he did, jabbing a blade into someone’s neck to save another life as the cop sirens came screaming down the street. In those few brief moments, a deal was made - Donovan would take the rat for a capo and no matter the sentence, would be allowed into the gang as thanks afterwards.

Prison was prison, a 6 year stretch that saw Donnie 26 when he finally left but, at least he had somewhere to go after - White Crocodile’s made good on their word, and invited him to their gang.

OTHER

Owns a pitbull named Malibu - she’s his pride and joy.

Has poor literacy and writing skills.

Lives in a two room apartment that’s literally just one room for the bedroom and kitchen and then the other room is a bathroom.

Has never worn an ironed shirt in his life.

Likes 80s pop music and rollerblading.

Has enough knowledge of torture methods to be able to flay someone alive - is sort of known for doing it to a persons hand.

Eats mainly microwave food, can’t cook and rarely eats anything ‘fresh’ or ‘healthy’.

Scrappy as fuck in a fight.

Cuts his own hair

#lawlessintro #child abuse tw #child neglect tw #death tw #drugs tw #prison tw #tw murder

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scarredsands · 1 year ago

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Registeel sits quietly near Saya as she tends to a few of her plants. She'd already watered those that were more intensive as far as their needs went, and now she worked with careful precision to prune a few that were overgrown. The painted terracotta pots her plants rest in added a splash of color to her room.

Her eyes would lift to the desert landscape outside of the windows, watching a distant sandstorm rolling slowly along the horizon. The sky was otherwise clear and blue save for tall thunderheads dozens of miles away - a series of storms that likely wouldn't make it into the lower deserts. They never really did in this heat, unless the atmosphere was just right.

Saya would set her shears down for a moment, lips set in a thin line. Soon, she'd turn back towards Regis. He sat still, previously watching her deft hands at work.

"Regis," she'd finally say, looking up at the large golem, "tell me 'bout yer home."

There was a quiet, pensive whir that left him. If Saya didn't know any better, she'd say there were literal gears turning within - but she knew by now that he was totally hollow, somehow. A series of short and long beeps left him, the red dots on his face lighting up independently of one another in time with the beeps.

'My home... My home is beautiful. Lush grasses and trees surround my tomb. Puddles of water that reflect all above them, like miniature pockets of the sky dipped into the earth - it never ceased raining enough for them to dissipate. Hoenn is... diverse in its landscape. My sibling rests in a tomb along a route that is not unlike Orre's deserts.' Regis would pause for a long while.

Saya moved to sit on the floor across from them now, folding her legs underneath herself. "M'ancestor's from Hoenn, actually. Always been curious 'bout it." She says, breaking the silence between them.

'It is a desirable region to visit for most. I... have not been there in many years. There are some days where I find it almost difficult to recall some of the landscapes there.' Though it was impossible to discern tone through beeps and flashes of light, there was a heavy sense of sadness that burrowed into Saya's heart. Almost as if she could feel his shift in mood in her veins.

"Shit, Regis... Sorry. Didn't mean t'bring up any bad memories fer ya." But in a way, it felt all too familiar. Saya was the same way with The Under, before it had been restored and brought back to life. There was a time where she had forgotten aspects of her own home, torn away too quickly before she could commit it all to memory.

The Registeel didn't say anything for a moment, resting his arms upon his legs - like one would when they sat hunched over. 'Please, do not apologize. If I was not comfortable speaking of this, I would not have. I am sure you understand that, Saya.' They pause again, a low, painful sounding whir leaving them that she felt in her very soul.

'I was taken from my home, a long time ago. Not of my own choice, but by force.'

Something in Saya's stomach twist uncomfortably. She opt to not speak, as the look on her face and in her eyes likely said it all. Instead, she waited for Regis to continue.

'Long ago... many, many thousands of years, I was taken from my tomb. I was taken from the land of Hoenn, far away from my home, and from my siblings. I was taken for my metals - humans wished to utilize it for their inventions and technology... they wished to study me. To find out if they could use me.' A noise akin to a shudder left the steely golem.

'They tried anything and everything to harvest it. Crude tools of weaker metals would snap against my steel. They tried to melt me down, but no fire burned hot enough to do so. There was such a desperation for my steel. Nothing could scratch it. Nothing could even dent it. It stumped them. It made them angry. At the time, the metals humanity begun to use were nothing compared to myself. They assumed they could take from me to spearhead their own advancements.'

Saya could feel her skin crawling. She hugged herself, raking her nails down her arms. "God, Regis, I... 'm so sorry ya had t'endure all that, I- what happened? Why- why did y'let 'em torture ya like that?"

For a long while, he sat silently, before a quiet series of beeps left them. 'I thought it better that I was in that situation than any of my siblings. We are all beings shrouded in great power and mystery. Even to this day, many do not know or understand how we all function. They do not understand what we are made of; they do not understand how we live and walk this earth. I thought my sacrifice would ease any curious eyes that rest upon them.'

A noble sacrifice, from a noble creation. Registeel had millions of years of history wrapped up within them that Saya couldn't even begin to fathom. She had tried before, and each time it made her head spin. A timeless, immortal being, where her own lifespan and time upon this earth was laughable at best.

She swallowed hard, turning her gaze away from him now. "If y'were taken from yer home... n' now yer awake n' all that... why don'tcha go back? I don't want t'make ya feel like 'm forcin' ya t'stay here. I didn't even know what ya were when y'woke up n' rose from th'sands. I just- I don't understand why I was able t'do that in th'first place. I've been past that same spot ten million times on m'bike- why then? Why now?"

The discovery of Registeel on her night out with Magdalena had come not long after Saya's resolve to become a steel specialist, but surely that was too much of a coincidence. Why her? She was just a bastard child, a ruffian nobody from a place that had ceased to exist up until a year ago. Sure, her skill as a trainer was undeniable, but other than that...

Saya looked back up at Regis as he moved a large hand down towards her. 'If I wanted to return home, I would have done so the second I woke up. You understand, Saya. From the tales you told me, you would give everything for yours. I still do not understand what made me awaken in that moment. I had been buried in those sands far longer than this region has even existed, dumped and left to the elements when I could not give my captors what they wanted. They hid me away in this desolate land, fearing that a day would come where someone would succeed where they failed. But... I believe everything happens for a reason.'

She lifts her arm, placing her hand over one of their fingers. There was a new understanding between them now, a new bridge built where there was previously a gap. Though Regis' tale was horribly sad, and one that mirrored her own in some aspects, a part of her felt much more enlightened than before.

"Damn right. 'M gramps used t'say th'same thing all th'time, n' I really believe it." Everything happens for a reason. Just what did the wheel of fate have in store for her, and for Regis? For what reason where they brought together? It seemed as though only time would tell.

Saya stands back up, taking up her shears and going back to pruning her plants. As she snips overgrown stems and trims off dead leaves, she smiles to herself.

"Thanks, Regis."

#🌵 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 / drabble.#🌵 𝒊 𝒘𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒅 / ic.#🌵 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒔 / registeel.#shoutout to that one dex entry thanks for the endless food!#my sweet baby boy regis ;-;

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mjolnir-steve · 4 years ago

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

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angry-geese · 4 years ago

Text

Nanami Kento x Reader

Warnings: nsfw. Fingering, tender sex, morning sex, praise kink (sort of), unprotected sex/breeding kink, mention of pregnancy (its like one sentence). Established relationship, some fluff, mostly smut. Afab reader.

Notes: domsetic fluff turned morning sex

Days where you wake up in his arms are rather rare.

Usually, he's ready for work by the time you get up. His day starts earlier than yours. You still make it a point to give him a kiss before he leaves. He'd often have something for breakfast ready, and make you lunch if he had the time. Nanami was always a better cook- you were a bit of a terror in the kitchen. When he arrived home he'd tell you little about his work. You knew of it, although he had little to say. He only actively spoke of it if he had overtime, and only to complain.

That didn't mean you weren't curious. There were a million questions you had for him; if he answered one, it would only add to the growing pile of other ones.

Married life wasn't what you expected.

It took a year to convince him to date you. Prior to that, the two of you had been roommates for nearly the same time. Over time you had gotten used to having him around. He was the one constant in life. People came and went, jobs you started and quit, but he was always there.

Things weren't all that different from the way they were before. Switching to married life felt natural. So much so that it was a bit frightening. It makes you wonder if this is all there is to it. If that's the case, then you could live with it.

You're not quite sure what wakes you up, but you're surprised to feel his body still beside you. Early morning light streams in through the cracks in the curtains. His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush to his chest. The faint scent of his cologne—something woody mixed with something sweet, like vanilla—still hangs onto him. Uncertain if he's still awake, you call out his name. To no response.

Slowly his hand creeps up your thigh, resting on your stomach for a moment before he's pressing his thumb under the waistband of your shorts. Nanami's touches are feather-light as his fingers just barely ghost over your skin. The soft feeling of his thumb grazing your clit makes you jump. He smooths a hand over your hair, cooing words of praise as he leans forward to nip at your ear. Goosebumps raise along your shoulder.

Nanami presses a quick kiss to your neck, going back to suck a dark mark into the skin. It'll be hard to cover up tomorrow. Gently he drags his thumb across your slit through the thin fabric of your panties. You part your legs just a bit to give him more room. He shoves down your shorts—along with your panties—baring your sex. You lift your hips for just a moment to kick them off, throwing them to the side. Your shirt quickly goes the same way. Then his. Nanami pulls you in for a quick kiss, nibbling at your bottom lip until you let his tongue into your mouth. The feeling of the slick muscle is intoxicating. You're already half drunk off the scent of his cologne.

He knows just how to make you melt under his touch. He has a way of pressing your buttons, leaving you crawling back for more. Part of you is embarrassed at how quickly you turn to putty in his hands.

When he pulls away, there's an audible pop! as your lips part. He leans back down to kiss you again. It's only a peck this time, but the same amount of fire is behind it.

A low laugh escapes him when he feels the slick that's collected between your legs. In any other circumstance you'd be a bit embarrassed at how quickly he riles you up. He hooks his arm under your knee, forcing your legs further apart. His thumb brushes over your clit, working in soft, teasing motions. When you try to grind down onto his hand, he simply huffs and pulls his hand away, leaving you aching with need.

"Ken, please-"

"Please what?" He asks. "Use your words..."

"Fuck me!"

To that, he cruelly laughs. The noise comes from low in his chest. You're almost ashamed at the throb it sends right to your cunt. Almost.

He mutters a soft "good" as he eyes you up and down, sizing you up like you're some sort of opponent.

He works you open with his fingers. Just the one at first—then adding a second—rubbing against your g-spot. His fingers are thin, but long, and know just where to prod in a way that makes you whimper. Your eyes roll back when he strokes a particularly sensitive spot. Nanami takes notice of this, and proceeds to add a third. His thumb rubs small circles against your clit. A familiar heat pools low in your stomach. His touches only make you more needy. When your pussy clamps around his fingers—you're close to your own release—he realizes his own need, pressing against your back. Grinding against your thigh only does so much.

Typically he isn't the type to tease. It makes you wonder what's gotten him so worked up.

He pinches your clit between two of his fingers before resuming their circles. His movements are skilled—he's had practice—making you melt under his touch. The wetness that collects between your thighs nearly drips down his hand, making it glisten in the low light.

He finds the squeal you make when you cum endearing, using the moment to kiss you, right on the corner of your lips.

You ride out your orgasm on his hand; shaky, but nearly ready for another round. It won't take you long- he's seen it happen before. Soon you're sitting up, facing him, your cheeks red and your lips bitten pink. He commits the look of your flushed form to memory.

He'd have to tease you more often.

Nanami palms himself through his boxers. He frees his leaking cock. The head is a ruddy color, and rather angry looking, swollen with need. His spare hand moves to knead the soft flesh of your breasts, working your nipples into stiff peaks. He guides your hand to his cock, closing your fist around his member. It's long—a little over six inches—but not too thick. The weight of it is heavy in your hands. You give him a few teasing pumps, making sure your touches are achingly slow. Instantly he notices, giving one of your nipples a harsh pinch, though not hard enough to hurt. When you squeak and mumble a weak: "I'm sorry" he only nips at your ear and chuckles. Any attempt you make to regain control of the situation only digs your grave deeper.

"Are you going to be good?" His lips press against your temple.

Weakly you nod.

"Good." He coos. "You're always so good for me."

He shifts so you're left lying on your stomach underneath him, hips lifted slightly and pulled flush to his. Your body is tacky with sweat—maybe a bit of saliva too—he drags you in closer. Nanami leans forward to mumble into your ear. Sometime during this his teeth find your shoulder, your flesh sporting a crescent shaped mark to show. You're not quite sure if it'll bruise. Probably.

"Had to work overtime." He says, the slightest bit of venom in his tone. "Again. Not happy."

At this you let out a small giggle. That's the second time this week. That must be why he came home so late last night. He never tried to hide his dislike for it. Instead of chatting with you, he simply went to bed.

The head of his cock presses against your entrance, slick with his own need. There's no resistance as he presses right into you, although he still gives you a moment to adjust. Nanami fits right in you, your pussy so tight and warm around him. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to how good you feel. He's had his fair share of partners, but they all pale in comparison to you.

His large hands knead at the flesh of your ass and thighs. He's always admired how soft you are; the curve of your breasts, your stomach, your hips. Even the harsh angles of your face, the way it twists and contorts in pleasure. To him, you were truly the most beautiful thing in existence. There's not much he wouldn't do for you.

He's always preferred to fuck you slow and deep. He could watch you squirm and writhe under him for hours if you'd let him. Nanami has never been one for quickies. Sometimes they're nice, but he always prefers to take his time with you.

Slowly he rolls his hips against yours. You inhale sharply, gripping at the sheets. His pace starts out a bit slow, but he leaves none of your sweet spots untouched.

The second you start to get a bit loud he pulls out, making you whine in frustration.

"Needy today, aren't we, love?"

You grovel at the pet name, hardly amused. "Just touch me dammit."

Nanami's relatively collected demeanor falters when you clench around him, pulling him back in. His fingers dig into your hips, his nails leaving little crescent-shaped indents in your skin.

"Oh fuck-" his thrusts grow erratic, "fuck! I love you I love you I-"

"I love you too!"

His fingers lace with yours. Momentarily he brings your hand to his lips, planting a kiss on your knuckles. The action is so slow and soft you're not quite sure if you feel it.

"I'm so happy I married you."

His free hand goes back to toying with your clit, harshly pinching the bud between two fingers before tracing circles around it. The movements are a bit erratic. He must be close. To stifle a groan, he leans forward, sinking his teeth into the junction of flesh where your shoulder and neck meet. Not hard enough to hurt, although it may leave a bruise. Some possessive feeling deep within him made him proud of the marks he left.

It's enough to send you over the edge. The dam has broken, the floodgates have opened. You cum around him hard, your entire body shuddering as you cry out. The neighbors certainly can hear. Noise complaints happen a bit too often for your liking. He groans as his own release paints your walls white. You feel so full.

Nanami pulls out slowly as to not spill any of his cum, taking a moment to admire his work, and the look of your fucked-out form; the red handprints on your ass, the nail marks in your soft flesh, the way your neck and chest blush along with your face. It makes him wonder how you'd look with your belly swollen with his child.

He'd have to do this more often.

Dramatically you flop down on the bed, chest heaving. A single drop of cum spills onto the sheets. He lays down beside you, taking a moment to push a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You'd be sore tomorrow. Your neck already sports red teeth marks, and half-faded hickeys. He presses a kiss to the mark, rather proud of his work. His arms snake around your body, holding you close to him.

Nanami has never been this much in love.

You're half asleep when he pulls away. It's almost time for him to head to work. Gojo needs his help with something, he's not quite sure what.

Gojo can wait.

He's tucking himself back into his boxers and getting out of bed by the time you turn around. If he notices you staring, he says nothing about it.

"Where are you going?" You ask.

"I'm making breakfast."

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #not sfw #jjk smut #nanami smut #i know im posting this at a weird time sorry mutuals

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40sbarnes · 4 years ago

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Medici: Spymasters of Florence

Til Death

(extra)

um,,. have this offering,....

pairing; lorenzo x reader <3

1.6k words; this defo has plot holes idrk whats happening with bianca etc, so just read with a grain of salt pls

Spreading the lip paint across your lips, you half expected it to sting. You pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt as though you were playing dress up for a mission once again, as if the reflection staring back at you was just another character. But it wasn’t, for this was your life now.

Your hair was arranged in such a way that the prestigious women you had often tried to mimic would wear their own locks, although no longer were you mimicking, you were. The cream gown sat on your body as if it had been plucked from one of your wildest dreams, and not from a quaint dressmaker in Venice. With a smile you recalled your second visit to the shop, how your betrothed had not held back an ounce of opinion, ensuring that you also spoke up for exactly the dress you desired for your special day. Your mind wandered to the blacksmiths surprise on the same visit, as he was given a healthy lump sum to create the rings that would soon sit on your fingers. Your gaze was drawn to your ring finger now, seeing how the band you had stolen so long ago still sat in its place. It served as an engagement ring you supposed, you couldn’t see yourself without it, and as you slid it off and slipped it into a pocket in your skirts, you vowed silently to replace it as soon as the ceremony was finished.

A gentle rapping at the door echoed throughout the silent room. You stepped back from the mirror with one last glance to cross the room, stopping with your hand around the handle as a thought rose to your mind. “Who is it?”

“Your favourite,” even without his unmistakable voice, you would have recognized the cheek in his tone on your worst day.

“Lorenzo! What if I had answered!” you scolded, your hand falling from the handle to join your other as you crossed your arms across your chest in feign anger.

“Well, I was hoping you would,” the confusion in his voice was clear even with the inches of oak between you both.

“You can’t see me before the ceremony! It’s bad luck,” you informed, not sure how much you believed in it but knowing the both of you didn’t need any more misfortune.

“Never knew you were so superstitious,” he teased, although he respected your wishes, accepting that your conversation would take place with the door remaining between you both.

“You have much to learn about me, Medici,” Lorenzo didn’t need to see your face to hear the grin on your lips.

“And I cannot wait to learn it all, Medici,” your heart sped up at he returned your teasing words.

“Lorenzo!” his mother’s voice floated from outside the door, scorning him. You heard the shuffling of him standing up straight, presumably facing her. “Go! They’re waiting for you downstairs, and you shan’t seen your bride before the ceremony, it’s in bad faith!” Lucrezia pushed her son gently in the right direction, ignoring him as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘so I’ve been told.’

She waited until he was gone from the hall to slip into your room, a wide smile falling across her face as she took in the sight before her, “You look so beautiful.” The corners of her eyes crinkled as she complimented you, and you returned the grin. Although you had been living with the Medici’s for almost two months now, it was only recently you had the fortune of seeing the woman before you truly smile.

“Thank you, Madonna,” you dipped your head slightly, but she caught your shoulder, forcing you back upright. What is it they say about the apple?

“In a matter of moments I’ll be your mother, officially,” she squeezed your shoulder where her hand was, “no need for the formalities, y/n,” her voice was soft. Your mouth fell slightly agape before you nodded in agreement. Her addition of ‘officially’ didn’t go unnoticed by you. You had quickly fallen into the family, in such a tender time they were more than appreciative to have someone to lean on, and in Lucrezia’s eyes no riches could ever repay the way you cared for Lorenzo after the loss of his brother.

The Medici’s, just as the rest of Florence, believed the story that you had been devoted to Lorenzo from the start, and that you had been kidnapped by the Pazzi’s, threatened to go along with their plan. It wasn’t exactly a falsehood, it just simply emitted some of the more dicey facts. There was no rush on your wedding, most of Florence believed you to be already wed, and with funerals, politics and grieving being the core focus at that time, no one was particularly stressed over officialities. But as time passed, Lorenzo had presented the idea of having a proper ceremony and you certainly weren’t opposed.

“Well,” Lucrezia clasped her hands together as she stood away from you, “ready?”

---

To say it was a small gathering would be a gross understatement. It was strictly Medici in its attendance, Lucrezia, Bianca and Father Carlo were stood out in the garden under an arch of rose bush. With fondness, you recalled some of the earlier planning of this day.

“And where? I suppose it would be a tad awkward to do it in the church,” Lorenzo pondered aloud from where he lay across your bed, supporting himself on one elbow. With everyone thinking that this day had already taken place, it proved difficult to make their beliefs true.

Your gaze fell off of Lorenzo and out of the window you sat in. “What about the gardens?” Somehow, they looked even more spectacular as you made your way into the summer months. The flowers appeared brighter, the grass greener.

“A fine venue for a grand wedding,” Lorenzo joked, his eyes surveying the side of your face, “Is there anyone you wish to invite?” the question escaped his lips as soon as it appeared on his mind, he despised the way he lost his smart tongue the minute you two were alone.

You focused your gaze on one of the rose bushes, “No,” you replied simply, hoping to keep any emotion from the answer. There was no one, you had no one. Only Lorenzo.

You looked to him now.

He looked at you as if you were also all he had, but the glint in his eye made it seem as if that weren’t something terrible at all. It wasn’t that you were all he had in this world, it was that you two were the only ones in his.

Goosebumps rose across your bare shoulders, your eyes remaining on his as you carried your skirts over the grass, joining Lorenzo to stand before Father Carlo. His fingers found yours almost instantly, lacing them together in the small space between you both. He only let them go for the exchanging of rings, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight shake of his hand as he slid the band onto your finger. You gave him a grin as you returned the gesture, earning a wide smile in exchange. You didn’t even hear Carlo’s next words as your now-husband cupped your face to pull you into a kiss, and if you had any lingering doubts of Lorenzo’s true intentions for this marriage, they were mercilessly thrown away as you relished in your lips meeting. Your hands had found his own face, and when you eventually pulled away, you stayed holding one another as you both surveyed your new spouse, trying to commit the image before you to memory; if such a thing was possible.

The look he was giving you made your heart swell against your ribcage, giving you the impression that you were holding his own beating heart in your hands instead of his cheeks. The cheers from your small audience almost weren’t enough to remind you that other people existed in that moment, until they turned into displeased gasps. You tore your eyes from your husband to his family, to see Bianca with her hand held out, her eyes on the sky. You followed her gaze to see the grey clouds that had appeared above you, and were beginning to spill down.

“Come along then, before we’re drenched,” Lucrezia glanced back at you as she headed for the house, Bianca and Carlo in tow.

You faced Lorenzo, wondering why he hadn’t moved, to see his gaze still fixed on you. Your hands slipped from his face to grab his own on yours, taking it to your side. “Come on, or do you wish to stare all day?” your tone was far too soft for the jab to hold any weight.

“Since when have you the ability to read minds?” he quirked a brow, although he seemed to be out of his trance now, a grin sat atop his blushed lips.

“Don’t worry, I can only read yours,” your thumb brushed his knuckles as you spoke.

“I suppose I mustn’t tell you how that only worries me further,” the rain was truly beginning to fall now, but neither of you had moved an inch still.

“You mustn’t,” a large raindrop landed on your brow, threatening to fall into your eye, if not for Lorenzo’s gentle fingers wiping it away before it had any chance.

The sky seemed to have little patience for you newlyweds, and opened up without any further hesitance. Lorenzo squeezed your hand before dragging you behind him, both of you breaking into a sprint as the droplets poured onto you. He glanced back as you struggled to gather your skirts, letting a raw chuckle bubble out from his throat, and you were quick to accompany him in his laughter, realizing that maybe running in the rain wasn’t all that bad.

#srry i was gone for a year <3 #i did miss this story tho #hope this makes sense and u havent completely forgotten about our fave spy and banker #daniel sharman #daniel sharman x reader #lorenzo de medici #lorenzo de medici x reader #medici

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

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Rabbit Boy | JJK x Reader | 🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k (Long)

Genre: Romance, Friends/strangers to lovers, Smut, BDSM because I'm making that a genre now

Tags/Warnings: BDSM themes (please I'm begging you stop reading my shit if it makes you uncumfortable), mentions of restrainment, light shibari, edging, orgasm denial (very mild), Subspace, Domspace because yes thats a thing, Dom/sub dynamics, Biting, Oral (m and f receiving), riding, and not the horseback kind if you know what I mean, protected sex yes, we love an organized household, there's just so much sweet filth istg

Summary: Jungkook is wild, untamed, and doesn't really commit to anyone for long. But maybe, you're his only exception in this world. Maybe, you're really that perfect partner he's been looking for.

Jungkook likes to think of himself as an artist.

Sure, if people knew exactly what the young man does in his freetime (or as a side job, don't judge, we all want to make money out of our hobbies stop lying to yourself), they would surely look at him differently.

But he's an artist, nonetheless.

Technically, Jungkook also doesn't need to do what he does simply for the money. No, his main job pays very well- considering that he's one of the top elite in his genre of games. He doesn't just merely play and win a game; Jungkook, just like most things he touches, claims complete ownership of the match he's fighting. It's a well known fact that he's someone who likes things for himself. He loves control, craves to lead, and hates to be belittled.

Oh and yeah- financially, investing in an indie-game three years back had also done his bank account some good.

Now, at an age where he can be fully considered a man, and not a boy anymore, he craves control in different aspects of life- and love.

Jungkook has a problem however.

He's wild.

Not in the way one might think he is (although several people could argue that yes, that's also the case in bed..) but generally. He loves to control- but he hates to be tied down.

And a mindset like that doesn't work well with relationships.

He's had them before, don't get him wrong. He's had numerous in the past, but they all either broke apart because he would hold that particular desire back, making him antsy and moody, or he would welcome his partners into his world, and become uncomfortable with the way things would progress.

No, he doesn't want to experiment. He knows exactly what he wants, and if that means he's 'close-minded' and a bad person, then so be it for him.

He never liked the constant company in his apartment anyways.

"Ah, I've seen her before. She's usually a regular for Yoongi though." Taehyung says, checking a name for Jungkook, who's doodling on a napkin while he waits for his new appointment to show up. "I see. I forgot that Yoongi took some days off recently- that's probably why she's now under your hand." He explains, and Jungkook huffs, his blonde hair tickling his cheek.

"So I'll have to adjust? I mean, Yoongi's style is pretty different from mine." The young man says, not looking up. He simply continues his little sketch of braided hair, while the lanky guy behind the counter clicks away on his laptop.

"Probably? I can't check the logs since they're private, but from what I know Yoongi only did the usual with her." he explains, shrugging as he looks at his friend and colleague. "I can re-schedule her to Hoseok if you want?" He asks, and Jungkook, after finishing his drawing, lets the pen fall and stretches.

"Yeah, that would probably be best. Wouldn't know what to do if she drops- rather not have him rip my head off, thanks." He says, before he gets up.

"Ah- you're still coming over tonight right? Y/N said she's gonna cook for us." He says, and Jungkooks body shivers a little.

Your name is nothing new to him, but the reaction to it most certainly was. You're a friend of Yoongi and Hoseok, having joined in on their gaming nights a few months ago after Yoongi had insisted you couldn't stay alone on a christmas day. Jungkook had never really asked why you were alone in the first place, but he had never really cared much for it either. Sure, you were an absolute gem to look at; technically absolutely his type, but he had early on decided not to pursue anything at all with you. He knew friendship wouldn't stay friendship with you, his own hunger way too large to simply be satiated by platonic gestures-

and he was also sure you wouldn't be able to handle him, truly. The conversation with Jimin, one of your best friends, had changed nothing about that. Because he didn't know you well enough to quite know if you were only bark and no bite- or if you were genuinely craving the same things he did.

But most recently, there had been a change in his opinion on you. Because he had seen you, come out of this place, out of Yoongis studio.

You knew about all of this- and you were still around.

Nothing had changed.

Now, of course he had instantly poked holes into the poor guy about if he had ever played with you before- and the answer he had gotten, had made him even more interested and antsy to get closer to you.

Because while you trusted Yoongi with everything you had, he had never done anything with you. You had simply been interested in watching a scene unfold- and had told him that you were definitely interested in participating. The reason Jungkook couldn't ask you directly was a clear one-

You were majorly intimidated by him, to the point of, he had never really had a proper conversation with you. Partially, he had to admit, because he himself didn't want to involve himself too much with you.

He’d always asked himself; wouldn’t you be even more distant and reserved with him if you knew this side of him? Sure, you always joked around that he probably tied his girls up and edged them until they cried- but did you know that he genuinely enjoyed these things?

Relationships for him were mere covers to call the arrangements he had with the girls that came and went in his life in a constant changing matter. Deep down, no one night stand could satisfy his most carnal desires, and he was very well aware of that. But he rather took what he could get and lived a fever dream for a few moments than stay on his own simply because his idea of pleasure and sex was not the norm.

No, he refused to deny himself that.

Maybe it was because he’d always lived a rather lavish life- with his parents well off and his own career skyrocketing he never really had any worries like you have had in the past. For some odd reason, while looking at the soft red rope in his hands, his thoughts suddenly went astray; he knew he could give you the stability you oh so craved, in every way shape and form. You were a diamond simply waiting to be perfected- you had so much potential, knowing that you were secretly wandering around the same paths as he did made him even more frustrated.

The hints were there, they were obvious; from the way you had sighed out in bliss when he’d teasingly pulled your hair just hours ago, to the sinful confessions he’d heard that night when he overheard you and jimin by accident. Of course he’d maybe wasted a thought or two of you underneath him to humor him once or twice- but now with the rope in his hands, his mind immediately began painting pictures of it against your skin. Would you enjoy it? And what if he took your sight, or only bound your hands? What if he denied you to cum, or if he took you from behind, grabbing your hair and pushing down your spine to make it arch so prettily- never with the intend to hurt, of course. He knew he’d have to tame you first, make you submit, but then again, he loved the challenge.

You made even the idea of touching fun.

He wouldn't even have to undress you to fully get himself worked up, he was sure of that. Only seeing you bow to his very command would be enough to satisfy him. Of course, over the course of time he would lead you deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole, but he would take it slow for you.

So, with a smile, and a wave of his hand, he walked past the girl he knew had been his appointment- grinning at Taehyung. "Of course I'll be there."

He wouldn't dare miss a night with you.

You were stressing. A little.

Maybe.

Maybe a lot.

Everything would've been fine if they guys would've all come over. But due to the bad weather, and Taehyungs bad habit of never properly fixing his god-forsaken dumpster of a car, only one of them would be able to make it. And of course the one had to be Jeon Jungkook.

Just great.

Now, it wasn't like you didn't like the guy, no way. The problem was more, that he was on the exact opposite of that spectrum. You had a major crush on him, which felt like the plot to a really bad drama show you would watch drunk at night- and in a way, it really felt like one too. Because you were pretty sure, he didn't even know your name.

But oh well- apparently he knew more than that. More specifically, your phone number. And it had scared the shit out of you at first to receive a message from him because how the hell did he get your number, but then again you remembered that one of your connections was Kim Taehyung- and everyone knew what he knew.

It was the doorbell that ripped you out of your skin almost.

You didn't even change, deciding any effort would be too late anyways; and you were still heavily confused in the first place why the fuck he would come over alone, even though you two had never exchanged much more than a friendly hello and goodbye. But there he was, as you opened the door- soft, white hoodie and ripped jeans, a bit damp from the rain outside as you let him inside.

He didn't move.

"Uh-" You started, but he just looked at you, friendly as ever, although a teasing glint in his eye made you frown a bit.

He thought it was cute.

"You didn't tell me to come in." He said, and you blinked once, twice, before your brain had properly restarted.

"Oh uh- come in?" You said, again, moving a bit to the side so he could walk in- which he still didn't. "Jungkook come on now its fucking cold-!" You whined, and he laughed, finally stepping inside. Had he always been like that? Could very well be the case, after all, you had never truly paid much attention to his behavior before.

"Thanks for letting me come over." He said, and you watched him as he untied his boots. "I had nothing else to do- and also, I didn't want you to waste any food, considering Tae said you cooked for us." He explained, before he got up again from his half kneeling position, boots now standing next to your significantly smaller shoes.

"Ah, it would've been fine, you guys don't have to feel bad." You waved off, smiling. "I was about to stop cooking anyways when Jimin had texted me, but well, then you did and uhm.." You drifted off, noticing how you were suddenly waiting for him to lead the way.

In your own apartment.

What the hell?

If he noticed however, he didn't show it. He simply smiled, and moved his hands inside the front pocket of his hoodie. "Ah, thanks. I appreciate it, really." He said, and you smiled at him as well, walking towards the main area of your apartment. It was small, very small compared to his own, but he enjoyed the feeling of it. Everything around him reminded him of you, in a way; from the pictures taped to the walls, to the stickers on your fridge. It all held a piece of you in it. "Your apartment is really nice, by the way." He commented, and you turned around, before getting plates and cutlery to bring inside the living room.

"Ah, right, it's your first time here." You said. "Thanks- the living room is right around the corner there, you can just sit down and I'll bring everything there." You explained, and he smiled, nodding without arguing.

You liked that.

Typically, there would've been this awkward 'oh no let me help you', but Jungkook didn't seem to dwell on it much, letting you do your thing instead of butting in and making things weird. He simply walked where you had directed him, sitting down on the couch as he went to place a blanket to the side. His fingers moved over the fabric for a moment, noticing how everything on the couch, including the pillows, were made of that same, soft material.

Interesting.

"Oh- you can just put that to the side, sorry I forgot to clean that up." You said, putting the food onto the table as he just smiles again. He waits for you to sit down as well before you turn up the TV volume a little, nerves finally setting in as you notice there's almost nothing you can talk to him about. "This is awkward." You comment, and he chuckles at that swallowing his bite as he looks at you.

"Doesn't have to be." He states, before he turns his body a bit more into your direction; a visible sign that he wants a conversation. "Tae has never mentioned what you do for a living." He states, an unasked question of his. He lets you decide if you want to take it as one or leave it as a statement- it makes you feel nice, in a way.

"Ah uh.. it's really boring, so I guess I never really talk about it either.." You say, and he tilts his head a little, a silent urging for you to continue. You feel insignificant next o him and his job however. He's superior to you in any way, and you don't want him to feel pity or laugh at you for your job. "I uh.. I'm a programmer for a.. pretty unknown game studio." You say, body almost shrinking in on itself as you wait for his reaction. Much to your surprise however, he makes a sound that's purely surprise, as he swallows his bite with a bit of urgency.

"Fuck really?! That's so cool though!" He argues, brows furrowed a bit as he playfully accuses you with his next words. "Indie or not, a programmer is the main force of any game. Did you work on any games I might know of?" He asks, eyes sparkling as he realizes he had finally found something to bond with you over.

"Uh.. 'Rabbit Boy' was our best hit until now.." You say, still a bit shy, but you're also a tad more confident now. His reaction is either well-staged, or he's genuinely interested in what you do.

"I played it I think. It was a bit short, but I loved the mechanics." He says, and before he can quite stop himself, his hand has already reached out to you, running over your hair as he praises you like second nature. "Wuah, so smart!" He says, before he gets a reaction he wouldn't have thought he'd get from shy-you.

Because you playfully shove him, your socked feet pushed against the side of his thigh as you giggle at him.

Interesting, again.

Now, Jimin has actually told him about this before. How you were anything but the shy girl when you were around people you knew and trusted. He had believed it- to an extend- because he had also thought that maybe you were like that to prove your spot between those guys. As the only girl, you easily got thrown under the bus, so you had to somehow own your spot in the midst of your circle of friends.

However, it seemed like you were truly just a brat, hiding behind that innocent facade of yours. A barking dog, with every intent to bite if needed.

And Jungkook knew, he'd love to tame you, show you your spot, and make you his prey.

The trashy movie your watching bores you, in a way. Jungkook has noticed this already, having taken note of your feet wiggling around, your teeth nibbling on the inside of your cheek, as you rest your cheek on your hand, elbow resting on the side of the couch.

“I don’t know why she’s so hesitant.” You mutter, pouting as you slump into the couch- uncaring that the side of your body now leans against his own. He feels your warmth- and for some reason it brings him comfort to notice that you’re seemingly growing more at ease. “I mean, it’s what she’s into, right?” You say, brows furrowed as you watch the screen.

“It’s not that simple.” Jungkook explains, trying to not make it obvious that he’s not necessarily talking about the movie. “Some men like to you know.. fight for a partner. Impress them. Win them over.” He explains, and he can feel you shift a little- until your head raises a bit, watching him as he watches you; gazes locked, and you can’t look away. You’re shy, you’re growing restless, but his eyes are like magnets; there’s no way you can avert your gaze.

“And.. you?” You ask, voice not loud at all, as if you don’t even notice you’re saying it. He loves that- loves the fact that you’re slowly letting him closer- not only physically.

“I like to earn my spot in their lives.” He states, and your mind suddenly begins to spin. You’ve always seen him as someone who doesn’t care much about emotions or feelings, or relationships for that matter. And maybe he doesn’t- maybe he just says this because he knows your weak spots. But the way his words fall into your ears makes you believe him. “I like to see my partner thrive; I love to see them grow. And..” he says, boldly deciding to slowly reach out his hand that was placed on the back of the couch- his fingers running through your hair, only brushing through, never pulling (no matter how much you’re craving it secretly). “I love to see them let go.” He humms out, and there’s a sudden shiver down your back, one that he definitely notices.

This is it. This is where you’ll let him touch you, let him wreck you, let him ruin you. You lean in closer, and so does he, but just when your lips are about to touch, he smiles gently- a warm affectionate gesture that you’ve never seen from him. And with it being directed at you, it’s even more meaningful- but it’s all about his next move, the way his inked fingers trace your cheek, before he speaks.

“You’re not ready yet.”

And with that, he turns back to the TV.

You huff, and it's the first time you know exactly what you're doing. You knew from Yoongi what Jungkook did in his freetime- you knew that this stuff was his expertise. Defeated, you looked down towards your knees, as your thoughts start to grow more and more frustrated. He probably didn't even see you like that, having only visited you out of pity, and not because he wanted to see you.

You were probably already friendzoned, and he was too nice to outright say it into your face. It made your emotions turn sour as the situation grew more and more awkward for you.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, and you don't answer. What was there to say anyways? You really didn't want to have this weird conversation where he would tell you that oh yeah you're a nice girl, but he's not the right guy, the usual stuff you've already heard time and time again. "Y/N." He says, his voice dropping a little, but you only chew on the inside of your cheek again, eyes moving towards the TV screen. You didn't want to talk- you just hoped he would now sigh and get up, leaving so you could forget about all of this. You could maybe fake being sick for the next week or so to avoid him, yeah, that would be enough time to gloss over this entire situation. But he only clicks his tongue, hands suddenly moving your legs as he moves your body to face him.

Looking at his face is your first mistake.

His eyes are dark and almost angry, irritated as he looks as you. His jaw is clenched, and his hands stay on your knees for a moment, before he's sure enough that he has your attention. Only then does he speak, his voice nowhere near as soft and light as it had been before. "I know what you're thinking, and I don't like it." He says, and that's when you make your second mistake.

"Can we not right now? You don't know shit." You say, and he stares you down for a moment, until his head tilts a slight bit, eyes growing predatory as the corners of his lips tilt upwards. It resembles a small smile, yes, but it's not meant to be one. No, the first thing you have to think about is a wolf snarling at you, ready to put his packmate into their place for acting out.

It makes your spine tingle.

"Hm, maybe, but we can be classy about it, no?" He asks, and you scoff, trying to move your legs away from him, as he scans you.

At this point, he can see clearly that you're testing him.

So he gets up promptly, moving you around so you're standing in front of him. His inked hand finds your hair, gripping without mercy as he pulls your head back, your gaze now forced to stay on his as he calmly speaks. "You think I'm not into you like that- and you're as wrong as you could ever get." He says, biting his tongue as to not let a petname slip. He'd love to use them, but he knows that it's not yet time. That would be foul play, in a way; he doesn't want to seduce you.

He wants to make you understand.

"Trust me when I say I'd love to just throw you over my legs to spank that attitude out of you right now." He explains, and you whine- not in pain, but simply as a reaction to his confession. "But you don't know what you're getting yourself into." He continues, and pulls a bit to interrupt your next words. You know that you can get free any second you want to- but for some reason, there's no urge to do so. "You think of this as some game to play, you think of yourself as someone who can take all of it at once, but you don't even get the simplest and most important things about this entire thing." You swallow, as you stay still, finally giving up your fight as he relaxes the grip he still has on you. "Even now, it's not me controlling this situation. Its you." He says, letting go of you as his hands rest on your cheeks, eyes searching for any clues of discomfort. Only when he finds none, does he continue. "I will only ever have as much control over you as you're willing to give to me." He smiles again, this time, warm and comforting. "If you're really willing to do this, we will do this right. You'll have to trust me first, and I'll have to get to know you fully first, before anything else happens. Understood?" He asks.

And you nod.

"Do you know what you just agreed to?" He chuckles, and, shyly, you shake your head.

"See?" He grins, breaking skincontact with you. "You're not ready yet."

His brows furrow when he sees you sitting on the counter, Taehyung talking to you. "What're you doing here?" He asks, and you pout, as Taehyung moves away, not wanting to get involved into anything this time. "Stop that face. We talked about this last week, why're you here now?" He asks, and you tilt your head innocently.

"Maybe I'm here for Yoongi?" You say, and his eyes grow darker for a second, before he composes himself.

"Good try, but he's still off work." He states, and you deflate a bit.

"I just.. wanted to see, I guess." You say, and he smiles a bit impishly.

"Oh? I mean, I have a scene in twenty minutes.." He asks, and internally, you cringe. No, you don't want to see him screw or even touch another woman in the ways you secretly want him to touch you instead. No, you're technically here to maybe talk him into show you at least a little bit. But it doesn't seem like he'll cave in anytime soon, so you sigh out.

"Okay, okay, I'll see you around, I guess." You say, hopping down from the counter before you take a step towards the exit.

"Ah well, I'll drive you home then." He states, and you grow confused as he leans against the counter. "Seeing as my scheduled appointment wants to leave, I have time off." He states, and you skin tingles. "Come on now, before I change my mind." He states, as he walks you outside again, leading you towards his car.

"I didn't mean to turn up so.. I don't know. Sorry." You said, and he gets into the drivers seat, shaking his head.

"I can understand you, trust me." He says, as he starts the engine and drives off. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to get something from my apartment, and then drive to yours." He says, and you tilt your head.

"Why not to the studio, or your place?" You ask, and he nods.

"While those are places I feel comfortable, they're unfamiliar to you. It's best if we start in a place that's comforting and gives you a sense of security." He states, and you nod.

Jungkook, in your eyes, never really seemed as mature as he's acting in those moments. It's as if he switches every time you two change topics; any time this particular one comes up, his mood changing into a serious one. Now, you're not stupid, you know the risks- and of course you had somewhat done your research online about the damages that could occur during all of this. And there's also the not too little chance it really isn't something for you after all- and in a way, that scares you. Because you want jungkook, but what if you don't want.. this?

Instead of voicing that out, you simply keep quiet as he gets out the car, and inside again after fetching what looks like an overnight bag. "You're staying over?" You ask, and he simply throws it on to the backseat.

"Maybe. We'll see." He says, and you don't question him as he drives. "Let's get something to eat. What're you craving?" He asks, as he keeps his attention on the road. He notices how you seem to think, already able to practically see the gears turning inside your head. "Don't think about what I could want. I asked what you want." He says, calmly, and so soft, that you simply let your words out.

"Tae usually get's me food.." You start, and Jungkook nods, as if understanding. You watch him smile a little.

"Let's get some junk food and eat it in the car." He simply states, and you nod, happy that he seemingly really did get what you were trying to say. For you, things like these were almost like rituals- like you and tae getting random icecream just to hurry home every time to not have it melt.

Maybe this would become a memory only for you and Jungkook.

"You're nervous." Jungkook says, speaking out what's obvious. You don't know what he'll do, you're confused whats in his bag- you're nervous, just like he said. "Why is that?" He asks, casually sitting on your bed with you. He had earlier told you not to panic-clean it; he was not there to be impressed. He was simply a visitor for now, nothing more, nothing less. You shrugged. There were a lot of reasons you were nervous. "If you want this to work, I need to have proper communication with you. Guessing will get me nowhere." He says, but his voice is not upset. He's simply informing you.

"I.. don't know what you'll do?" You say, and He smiles, sitting more comfortably, as he shows you his open hands.

"I'm not gonna do anything for the moment." He tells you, and you shrug.

"But wasn't that the plan?" You ask him.

"What would you want me to do then?" He asks instead, not answering your question. He's testing you, he want's to know if you really are aware of everything. He's also not only asking you about what you want him to do to you- but with you, as well. He was unsure if you wanted to romantically involve yourself with him, or simply explore something new at his side.

He's afraid he'd be okay with either, just because its you.

"Are you going to tie me up?" You ask, and Jungkook grins, before he laughs. You're growing shy, unsure, and he instantly makes sure you know he's simply laughing about what you said, not about you. His hand holds yours- and it's weirdly reassuring.

"No, although I can imagine you looking very pretty in that position." He says. "No, come here." He says, lays down on the bed, and you stay where you are, with reasonable distance between you two. "I want you to come as close to me as you feel comfortable. Don't force it- take your time. I'm not expecting anything, please remember that." He tells you calmly, not looking at you to give you mental distance from him as well. His eyes are actually closed, his body relaxed.

You don't move for a moment. You want to test how long he can really play this patient role- but after around five or ten minutes, he's still not moving. He's not even saying anything, and you're unsure if he's asleep or not.

There's only one way to find out.

You carefully lay down a little away from him, on your side, simply looking at him. It's weird to see him like that; you've always imagined him to be a very dominant and demanding person, from what you've heard and seen of him. But Jungkook doesn't feel like any of the guys you've been with; he also doesn't feel like Taehyung, or Yoongi, or Hoseok.. Jungkook, weirdly enough, feels comfortable. He's relaxed, and laid back, and still has that slight glint of power over you.

You move closer, your curiosity getting the best of you as scenes and pictures of him holding you fill your head. Is he even a cuddler? You can't imagine him being all soft and sweet for gestures like that, but then again, you didn't really think you'd ever be in a situation like this either. Maybe you were judging a book by its cover.

He smells nice- that's one of the first things you notice once you get closer. One of his arms is stretched out to the side- his tattooes visible, but partially hidden by his sweater sleeve. You want to look at them, so you test the waters- by touching his arm, just a small poke with your finger. You can see the corners of his lips twitch; he's definitely awake. You move his arm a little, inside facing you as you get a detailed look at his artworks. They're detailed, they fit him, the dark Ink a stark contrast to his skin.

His sweater seems soft.

You slowly lay down again, your head resting on his biceps as you simply lay for a moment.

This is nice.

You feel more and more bold with every minute that passes, not even minding the way he sometimes moves around. You're growing at ease, so much so, that you simply throw all hesitation out of the window, and cuddle up to him. one of your hands is on his chest, while your head rests ontop of the inside of his shoulder.

This is really nice.

"Are you falling asleep?" He asks, voice not loud at all, as his arm moves, palm resting on your forearm as he holds you. You don't mind it- you feel relaxed enough to really actually do fall asleep- so you nod. "That's good." He tells you.

"But didn't you bring stuff to try?" you ask, and Jungkook nods.

"We got time. A small nap is always a good idea." He tells you, and you simply nod- making him smile.

He's glad.

Because by falling asleep on him like that, you don't even know how much you've complimented him at all. You're relaxed enough around him, comfortable enough to let him close to you in a vulnerable state such as sleep. It makes him wonder how far you'd let him go- would you let anyone get so close so quickly? A sudden rush of protectiveness curses through his body, fills him up, as he swears he can't let you go now. No, what if someone else gets you like this? What if someone takes advantage of your open mind like that? He doesn't even want to imagine.

Jungkook really has it bad.

You slowly wake up to a bit of weight on your face. "jungkook what're you doing?" you giggle, and he chuckles as well as he takes the hand away from over your eyes. He looks well rested, with his eyes still not fully open.

"Nothing." He says. "Just teasing." He says, but of course, nothing he does is just random teasing. Everything he does is calculated- it's to test you, to study you, to make sure he gets to know you. "Are you hungry?" He asks instead.

"Not for food."

He has to let that process for a moment, until he laughs. He's really got it with you, he thinks, as he suddenly moves, eyes dark, while he's now ontop of you, his hands holding your wrists. Expecting you to look surprised, he finds none of that however. It intrigues him, the way you don't seem to be nervous or fearful at all. It makes him wonder what you'd really do to him if he was to advance in ways he wanted to. "Careful, sweetheart." He says, and your eyes sparkle with a silent challenge.

"Or what?"

His grip gets a bit tighter at that, eyes a bit darker. "Someone's eager." He says lowly. "Don't you think you're biting off more than you can chew right now?" He asks, before he clicks his tongue, slowly falling into his own headspace. He knows however not to let himself slip. "Give me a random word." He asks, demands, and you say whatever finds your mind in that moment.

"Bunny." You say.

He raises his eyebrow for a second, but doesn't question it. "I want you to say that, loud and clear, as soon as you feel uncomfortable." He lectures you seriously. "It doesn't matter what it is. Physically, or mentally, or if you simply don't want me to continue because. I need you to tell me that you will say it." His gaze is intense, and you nod. "I promise you; I'll never get mad, or upset, or angry, or disappointed with you. My ego isn't worth your safety." He humms out at the end, and your eyes soften.

He notices it instantly, and it affects him more than he'd like to admit.

"I promise I'll say it if I need to." You tell him, and he grows comfortable again.

"Can I touch you?" He asks, softly, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a yes. "Remember; I'll only ever have as much power and control over you as you will give me." He mumbles, head now dipped down to ghost his lips over the skin of your neck. "But once you give it to me-" He says, his knee situating itself in between your legs to spread them in a silent command. "-I won't give it back." He growls, before he bites down, releasing the skin after hearing your delicate mewl, kissing the spot as if to apologize.

He's not sorry.

"Let me ask you.." He says, feeling you rut against his leg that's pressed against your center. "what do you really want from me?" He asks, and you open your eyes, movements slowly coming to a halt as you notice the way he looks at you.

He almost looks uncertain.

"I.." You want him. You know that- you want all of his bad habits and weird quirks. You want to get to know him and everything that comes with it. Hell, he was the main reason you even got into the entire scene in the first place. "You." You say, deciding its best to practice honesty.

"Me?" He asks, genuinely a little confused.

You nod. "Yeah. You." You say. It's a little weird, the whole situation, but you don't mind it. Your hands slowly slip out of his grasp, before they instead intertwine their fingers with his. He feels weirdly caught off guard by the gesture- his past encounters and relationships never having included things like these. So much so, that Jungkook genuinely believed those things to be simple movie-gestures. Overdone, and not realistic. "Like uhm.. if you want to. If you just want to, you know, I.. guess I'd be okay with that too-" You say, looking away, as Jungkook answers.

"I want you too." He answers, eyes searching yours for any glimmer of dishonesty. But he doesn't find it- there is none. There's just you. "I really want you too." He murmurs out, getting closer, before he lets himself loose, his lips finding yours.

He's never been a fan of kissing, but he can very much already imagine kissing you for hours.

Its not just you letting go in that moment, its him too.

Because unbeknownst to you, he's not just opening you a door to his world of unspoken fantasies-

He's also opening his heart as well.

Your first time together is slow and comfortable.

It happens just a day after you had both decided to pursue an actual relationship with one another. He's gentle, careful, but not hesitant. He's exploring.

Inside of his head, he notes down every noise and every twitch of muscle. You sigh as he eats you out, the small ponytail of his unable to hold onto all of his hair as his eyes are partially hidden behind the blonde strands. He's watching you, his fingers having already stretched you out, but then he sits up. You whine, with him having stolen your release for a second time. "Let's play a little, yeah?" He says with an amused yet calm tone. You're already unable to do much about your position; your wrists bound to your bed over your head, carefully tied knots comfortable against your skin, as long as you don't pull. "Legs open." He calls out as you try and close them, and you whine again; testing his patience as you still go ahead and disobey his command. He watches, moves forward, before he pulls them apart again. "You want to cum, no?" He asks, and you nod, frustratedly so. "I wonder what made you think you've earned that reward from me." He tells you, eyes scanning your form as you pull on your restraints a little. He's not fully into his own headspace yet- he's still very much on high alert to notice any signs of discomfort coming from you.

He has to learn just as much as you do.

"You're lucky you're so sweet." He says, before he crawls closer again, his hand on your center, as he enters you with two fingers. Its not enough, but then his thumb draws circles on your clit- and you're approaching, quickly. "Hm? Won't you cum?" And then you say it.

"Can I?"

It's so desperate, so needy, so submissive, that it sends a chill down his spine. He moves closer, kisses your neck, as he can't help but let the rush of it get to him. He is, after all, just as desperate for release. No matter if its his, or yours.

"Such a good girl, of course you can." He tells you. "What a sweet one, such good manners.." He teases playfully, and you tug at your restraints as you come undone under his hands. He unties your wrists and you're holding onto him as soon as you're free, and he lets you hold onto him in your post orgasmic bliss.

Its after a moment that you realize it.

"Wait-" You say, sitting up to look at him. "You- I mean, you didn't get to-" You start, but Jungkook waves it off.

"Its fine, really." He tells you, and you know he's serious. "I'll just wait until it goes down, or take care of it in your bathroom if thats okay with you." He says, patting the side next to him to lay down on. "Come here." He asks, and you comply, before you speak again.

"You.." You start, not looking at him. "Could just take care of it here." You say. "Or I could.." you start, and he looks at you.

"Do you want that, or do you only feel like you have to?" He asks, and you shrug. You take some time, before you answer.

You've seen most of Jungkook until now. From his strong arms, his back, his inked skin, to his thighs and legs. You have seen all- but that. And you've never really considered giving anything back in that way to anyone because of one single embarrassing moment- but with Jungkook, for some reason, you wanted to try.

"I want to." You say, and he nods. "But I don't know how.." You say, and he smiles reassuringly.

"I'll guide you." He tells you, before he scans your face. He's never really felt that desired- at least not in the way he does in that moment with you. "You can take it out for starters." He says, and you nod, before you hesitate a little.

Jungkook is nice, when it comes to that. He's patient, always lets you do the pacing for now, until you trust him enough. This is only the start, after all. You stay cuddled up to his side, but your hand ventures towards his sweats, where you can see his prominent erection still waiting. Slowly, you push the fabric down, both his sweats and boxers underneath- his hips lifting a bit to make it easier for you, until he's freed from his clothes.

You've never really thought much about looks when it came to that department, but Jungkook was, in each and every way, highly attractive. Now you knew, that there was literally nothing about him you didn't desire.

Your first touches are a little hesitant, testing the waters, and Jungkook tries not to react too much to it to give you time. Its when you start to move your hand however, that he closes his eyes, head now completely resting on the pillows beneath as he just decides to enjoy what you might give him. His hips twitch upwards a little after you'd run your thumb over the head, precum glistening while your hand uses it as lubricant to move more smoothly.

He sighs out.

And you grow bold at that, moving to sit up and escape out of his embrace, before you dip down to feed your curiosity. As your tongue touches his skin, his muscles contract, the action not expected since he didn't look what you were doing. You've been told once before that you're not.. the best at this- but Jungkook made you want to try. If you would've looked, you would've spotted the intense stare that Jungkook had been sending your way; mesmerized by the way you tucked your hair behind your ear oh so sweetly, before you let a drop of saliva escape from between your lips, taking him in soon after it had dropped onto his awaiting length.

You really were something else.

He'd gotten head time and time before, and it was never something he didn't like- but he'd also rarely ever cared that much emotionally about the person giving it to him. It's weird, how an emotional connection can make you so much more sensitive to things- such as in that moment, as your tongue moved over his skin while inside your warm mouth, lips heavenly on his cock.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be inside you.

There's nothing he could teach you, nothing he could tell you to do, as you moved, sucked and licked. He was breathing heavily already, his hand finding yours as you hold onto it. He sits up, can't help it, has to somehow touch you while you're not letting go of your task. His palm escapes your hand, rests on your head instead, runs through your hair before it grips a little. You moan, vibrations making him throw his head back as he groans out, feeling his end coming closer. "If you don't want to swallow, let go." He grits out, but you suck harder instead, and its when your hand finds his balls that he lets himself fall back onto the mattress beneath, shooting his load into your mouth as you swallow it down.

He's on cloud nine.

You're thoughtful enough to pull his underwear and pants back up, laying on your stomach next to him, waiting, watching, with impish eyes. He looks so radiant, so relaxed, so at ease. It fills you with a weird sense of pride; since in a way, its your doing. "Why did you tell me you don't know how to do that." He comments, rather than asks, slowly calming his breathing back down. His eyes open, hand pushing some hair out of your face. "Thank you. That was amazing." He says, and you shrug.

"Thanks for the compliment." You say, looking at him.

"I have a request." He says, and you nod. "Not like that." He teases, making you blush. "No, but seriously." Jungkook knows that you've been with other people before. It scares him to know that some of your experiences might not have been good- he knows some absolute horror stories Taehyung had told him. "I want you to take all that you've experienced with your former partners.. all those moments, emotions, bad memories, all of it." He tells you, hand now resting on your cheek- a gesture in which you lean into. "And throw them away. Forget them." He tells you.

"This is a new start, for both of us."

"How many clients have you been with?" You ask, casually sitting on the kitchen counter as Jungkook washes the dishes. Its your first night in his apartment, and you're more comfortable than you thought you'd be.

"None." He tells you, and you're ready to snort out a laugh, but he doesn't look at all like he's joking. Seeing your confusion, he continues while scrubbing a plate. "None of us actually have sex with our clients. Some only come to talk, really- others come to let go." He explains, and you nod. "I've never touched, nor been with someone intimately during a scene." He tells you.

"So you had scenes with your partners then?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"In the beginning, yeah." He admits, shrugging. "But I eventually gave up on it. It's not something a lot of people find very appealing. It all looks great in theory, but when practiced, most find its not for them." Draining the sink, he dries his hands on the dish towel, before putting it in its proper place.

"Could you.. imagine a relationship without it?" You ask, and he sighs, shaking his head.

"Not really." He looks at you after a moment. "Its who I am, and its how I love. I can't change that." He tells you, and you nod. Its understandable really, and you like that he has clear lines he likes to follow. It's weirdly comforting to know that he has his life so under control- its all you've ever wanted really.

It's something Jungkook might be able to give you.

It was weird, the feeling of the rope against your skin. He’d been right about it earlier; it wasn’t rough or itchy at all. But maybe that was just because it was him doing it. Maybe he was simply fogging up your senses.

It would make sense.

“Okay?” He humms out, voice gentle and calm while he stops his hands for a moment, palm on your shoulder where it warms up your skin. You’re unsure what okay really means- okay like, he’s finished? Or is he asking if you’re okay? Or is he asking for permission? “Speak to me- don’t just think.” He says, eyes watching you in such a manner that made your slightly trembling body calm down.

“I’m not sure what- what you mean by, okay.” You say, and he smiles, eyes roaming over your body for a moment, but surprisingly not in a way that would make you feel exposed. You’re almost naked, after all- only your most private parts hidden from his sight. You can see the very evident tent in his pants; but he doesn’t seem like he’s frustrated or fazed about it.

“Good Job telling me.” He says first and foremost, and you start to feel warm inside. “I was asking if you were okay. Do you remember your colors?” He asks, and you nod, before verbally answering him with a ‘yes’. He nods again, a hand running over your head, fingers running through your hair affectionately. “Good. I’ll finish the last knots now- remember you can stop at any time. Don’t hesitate.” He says, and you nod.

He grabs the rope again; the tiny fact that he’d chosen one in your favorite color making you feel.. well, you didn’t know. You could feel your nose sting, before it shot into your eyes, making them water; something that Jungkook immediately noticed. “Color?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Green, Green, I’m okay-“ you say, but you can’t stop the tears. He’s quick to sit down in front of you after tying the last knot- and it’s the first time you quietly look at them. They’re so delicate, so well done, but there’s no time to dwell on it as he lifts you chin gently.

“Talk to me.” He says, hands on your shoulders to give you some sense of stability. You’re safe, you don’t feel bad, but just..

“I don’t know. There’s so much-“ you begin, and he softly smiles, as if you’re not currently completely bound with no chance of proper movement. You take a deep breath, holding it before you release again, silently following the advices he’d given you prior. “Why do I feel so.. comfortable? I feel safe even though I’m in such a dangerous situation- I’m.. this is weird isn’t it, I should be.. I don’t know. Why’re you not doing anything? Wasn’t this supposed to be like, a sex session or something I don’t get it-“ you babble, and he lets you, before he speaks.

“You still don’t quite get it, do you?” He asks, and your glistening eyes stare up at him. “I don’t need something as simple as sex to feel satisfied.” He explains, and you nod, even though you don't quite understand. "I feel euphoric right now, even though you probably won't quite believe me." He says, his smile evident as his fingers trace the knots on your skin. It's there that you see it; the glimmer in his eyes, something you've never seen before with someone else. "The fact that you let me do this, it's all I need." He humms out. He looks at you, a silent question, and you take a deep breath.

You don't quite know what you're doing. Its weird- but seeing him like that makes you feel weightless. It happens slowly, you don't quite grasp what it is, but the feeling is nice. It's like letting go- like standing on the highest platform of the universe and just jumping down. And when you open your eyes, all you see is him.

He can't take his eyes off of you.

He's seen it often enough to spot it, knows what it looks like, but it still holds such a deep meaning to him to see you fall into your subspace for the very first time. You're so beautiful like that, so ethereal and enchanting as you lean forward to get closer to him. He's careful you dont accidentally hurt yourself with the big scissors on the bed close by- emergency equipment to release you asap if needed.

He knows escape is the furthest thing on your mind right now.

Able to do anything he'd want with you, he's not like that however. He's responsible enough to let you float for a moment, before he speaks to you again. "Baby?" He asks, and you nod, nuzzling his shoulder as he holds you close. "You're doing so good. Can you do something for me baby?" He questions again, and you nod, not parting from him however before he talks again. "Can you sit straight for a moment? Just like that, good girl." He praises as you instantly follow his command. "I got you, okay? I got you, you're safe." He repeats, as he slowly unties your body. It's careful reassuring and slow movements that make it possible to untie you- too quickly could make you drop; a state of sudden shift in mental state, that could send you straight into distress. Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the cause of that for you.

You're underneath him, and he's careful, as he undresses after placing the scissors onto the bedside table where it cant lead to any accidents. He also reaches inside the table, pulling out a condom from a box safely stored, before he gets himself ready.

Not even for a second is his attention not on you however.

"Hands up baby." He commands, and you do as he wants, already squirming as he advances towards you, fingers stretching you out as you grow huffy at the prospect of being edged again. He's quick to catch on though. "Hm, I'm not gonna be mean baby." He tells your fuzzy mind. "But I gotta get you ready, no?" Fingers steadily helping you relax, he waits until he deems you ready.

You struggle to keep your hands up as he enters you, but your mind is adamant on keeping his command. He groans out, kisses your neck, as he slowly begins to move lazily. It's enough for pleasure- but not enough to make you cum. "Good fucking girl. Look at you. My baby." He chants, and something inside you stirs at the last words.

His Baby.

You're his.

He wants you.

It makes you whine as he chuckles, nipping at your skin. "You can touch me baby, good job." He says, and your hands are instantly around his neck. You're mumbling something, but its not words. It's not coming out the way you think it does, and Jungkook doesn't mind, doesn't care. Its another one of those things fueling him up, urging him on.

You're his perfect puzzle piece.

He lets go.

"Turn around princess." He says breathless, and you follow his instructions eagerly. His hand rests on the back of your neck for a moment, leaves its place for a second to move your hair away from your face, before he gently pushes down. He's inside in a heartbeat, this time thrusting with more strength.

Something overcomes him that hasn't happened before.

Usually, this position is what he loves most- and yet, it's not what he wants. He wants you, he wants you close, he cant touch you enough. His arms snake around your torso, just underneath the bottom of your breasts, as he pulls you towards him. Your back arches so prettily, and he gasps out, breathing heavy as he continues his attack on your neck. "You're mine." He growls out, can't keep it inside anymore, his grip on you tightening. "Mine." His thrusts stutter, his hand reaches for your center, desperate fingers helping you find your release. It coats your thighs, stains the bed, and he pushes himself as deep as he can once he finishes himself.

He's breathing heavily, he's out of his mind, running on autopilot as his hands still hold you. He pulls out after a moment, a whine from you getting reassured by his own voice, before he leaves the bed, getting a warm damp washcloth ready for you. He's careful, gentle, seems to caress your skin more than clean it, places kisses every now and then and sends praises your way.

"How do you feel?" He asks, voice low and caring as he continues his aftercare.

"Like you love me a lot." You sleepily say, eyes still foggy, and he smiles.

"Good." He tells you, reaching out to kiss your lips, still high on his own afterglow. "That's how you're always supposed to feel like."

"I've quit." He tells you one night on the couch, as you sit close to him. You'd asked him about his sidejob at Yoongi's- and this was his answer. Instantly, you sit up straight, fearing that he might've felt obligated because of you. "Before you start, yes, it was because of you." He says, and you already have the whine in your throat- but it doesn't make it out, as his fingers lazily trace your collarbone peaking out from his shirt you're wearing. "But it was also my decision. I just didn't enjoy it anymore- and you're more I could ever want really." He says, shrugging as you stare at him.

It was still new to you.

Although you knew that he was probably more than just a wild loverboy collecting partners and gaming all day, you never would've thought of him like this. He's a kid at heart still, teasing and playfighting every now and then- but he's mostly a strong shoulder to lean on for you. He really is the security and safety you'd always searched for. "What're you thinking about?" He asks, pulling you closer as he continues watching the TV show.

"You." You say, and he chuckles.

"Cute." He answers. He looks at you for a moment, TV long forgotten, before you crawl over his lap, shirt rising enough to give him free view of your thighs and panties. You've skipped the pants tonight- a habit of yours he enjoys a lot. His palms instantly find the soft skin, running along the outside of your thighs before they find your behind, squeezing, before he slaps it playfully. He grins as you squeal, admiring the way the very tips of your ears turn red. "You're really precious, you know that?" He tells you, and you shrug. "You are." He confirms, and you smile shyly.

"May I kiss you?" You ask, and he smiles warmly.

"We're not in a scene baby, do as you wish." He tells you, and you nod, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Its a feeling you can't quite get enough of, and it seems like he enjoys it equally as much. His inked hands find their way underneath your shirt, running over your back and spine as you shudder. He doesn't find what he seeks, your underwear long gone and left in the bedroom, and he loves it, instantly moves to your chest where he finds the soft flesh, his thumb running over one of your nipples teasingly. You're arching your back already, moving around as if you can't sit still. "My baby." He mumbles out, "If you can be so kind and get me a condom, you can ride me if you want to." He tells you, and you nod.

By now you easily know your way around his apartment.

So its no wonder you quickly return from your now shared bedroom, condom in hand as you approach him again, settling onto his lap. You're not shy with him nor his body anymore, eagerly taking the condom out of the package for him to roll it down onto his length. "You good?" He asks, and you nod, pulling your panties aside as you slowly sink down on him.

He lets his head rest back on the couch, and you lean into him, for a change returning the favor of kissing his neck. He's grinning, throughoutly enjoying things, and you love watching him. It's a visual reminder to yourself that this is your doing. You're making him feel that way, and no one else. It makes you confident, and it makes you feel cherished in ways you haven't felt before.

Once you start to move, Jungkooks hands help you along. Its slow and lazy, not at all hurried. There's no real goal; you probably wouldn't even mind not cumming at all. This was just being close- a way of feeling connected in the most intimate of ways. Connected like only lovers could be.

You love him.

And it slips out as a tiny 'I love you' in between your sighs and gasps, and he hears it so clearly, he can't help himself but speed up the pace.

"I love you too." He chants out, kissing the side of your head as you rest against his chest, head on his shoulder. "I love you so much." He says, almost inaudible, his arms holding you as close as he can.

Jeon Jungkook doesn't need sex to feel satisfied.

But he will most certainly need you for now and forever.

And he's totally fine with that.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. You know the drill. I know where you live. I don't. But still. Be scared. Boo.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions #Rabbit Boy AU

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t0wnspersonb · 5 years ago

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Hot Springs (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader)

Word Count: 2,570

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: SMUT, bad language, public, my shit writing, Ushijima being a beautiful man

Summary: You couldn’t remember the last time you and Ushijima got to spend proper time together, so when he suggests going to the hot springs for a date how could you refuse? Although, you two are doing a bit more than just enjoying the hot water.

~~~~

GUYS! I know it’s been a fucking minute😫 I’m still trying to get my shit together for school lmao. BUT I’ve been working on this fic for a while tbh, I was just never motivated to finish it until recently. I apologize in advance if it’s trash😂 BUT, I do have a couple of things to go over. First of all, thank you guys so much for being patient with me the past couple of weeks, I’ve definitely missed putting content out to you guys, I’ve just been super busy with life and school. Second of all, I know I have requests sitting in my inbox, I will do them. Eventually. The only reason why I’m even posting something new is because this story was already in the works, so since it’s done I decided to post it (it’s probably garbage idk lol). Third of all, I love you guys so much 😘😘😘😘 it’s been such a joy writing for you all, and I hope I continue to put out content you guys enjoy! As always, this story is dedicated to @sunshinewitchz because she’s the biggest Wakatoshi simp I know, and I love her so much and her endless support.

I hope you guys enjoy the story! Please let me know what you think of it😊😊

~~~~

“- Would you like to go?” Ushijima’s deep voice filtered through your ears; although you only heard the last part, you had no idea what he had said beforehand.

“Hmm?” you finally looked up at him, the paint brush in your hand stilled.

A soft frown coated his lips, sometimes you were far too engrossed in your art projects. Usually he didn’t mind, today was different though. It had been two weeks since the last time he had seen you, both of you far too busy to make time to spend together.

Of course, he would want your undivided attention, he missed you.

“I’m sorry Toshi, what were you saying?” you smiled sheepishly at him, carefully setting down the paintbrush, your eyes focused on him completely now.

“The hot springs. Do you want to go?” He asked again, his eyes flickering over your face.

Your lips pursed, your brain wracking through the dates to make sure you didn’t already have a prior commitment. “When?”

He let out another sigh, Ushijima loved you deeply, but when painting was involved… well, you were in a completely different world to the point that it was hard to hold a conversation with you.

But he also loved your passion for it, he loved how talented you were, how confident you were in your skills. It was proven time and time again whenever you produced your master pieces.

Although, all your artwork in his eyes were masterpieces.

You were the best masterpiece of all. Ushijima could stare at you for hours, he could watch you paint for hours, but right now, he wanted to be your sole focus.

“Do you want to go to the hot springs with me tomorrow?” he asked once more.

“Okay.” You smiled brightly at him, you didn’t have anything to do tomorrow, except to drop off a painting. Any chance you got to spend with Ushijima you would take.

“Okay.” he repeated, a soft smile coating his lips. “Finish up, we’ll go get food once you’re done.”

You definitely loved Ushijima.

***

“Ushijima-senpai! Y/n-senpai!” Goshiki exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here!?”

“Your grandma asked for a commission piece! I’m just dropping it off now.” You smiled widely. “I didn’t know you would be here today!”

“I-I’m just visiting.” he stuttered out, his eyes awkwardly flickering over to Ushijima who paid him no mind, his eyes scanning the outer exterior of the house.

“I need to collect the money; do you know where she is?” You asked sweetly.

“She’s out in the garden, please come in.” He said awkwardly, stepping aside.

“I won’t be long Toshi!” You said cheerfully, pardoning yourself before you entered the home, leaving Goshiki and Ushijima standing at the entrance.

“This is nice wood, is it oak?” Ushijima asked suddenly, his eyes tracing over the large door.

“I don’t know Senpai…”

Silence once again surrounded them, but like you had said, the exchange didn’t take too long as you came walking up to the volleyball players cheerfully.

“All set Toshi! Let’s head out yeah?” you smiled up at him.

He nodded before taking your hand into his and waving goodbye at the male.

“Bye Goshiki! See you around!” you called out behind your shoulder.

Sometimes it was a wonder how you and Ushijima ended up together. The concept of “opposites attract” seemed to be in play for this.

Your bright and bubbly personality contrasted greatly with his. Ushijima’s blunt and rough exterior was the complete opposite of your gentle and easygoing one.

However, you guys shared one trait, and that was the undeniable confidence you guys had in your skills. Ushijima with volleyball, and you with art.

But despite the contrasting personalities, your relationship worked, the love and respect you guys had for one another was always present.

“That was really nice of that lady to give us our own spring. I didn’t even know that a place like this could have private ones!” You said happily as you guys walked towards the changing rooms.

“Yeah.” Ushijima nodded briefly, “see you in a bit.”

You grinned at him widely before skipping off into your own changing room.

You bummed softly to yourself as you began undressing. The showers felt incredible against your skin and you couldn’t help but sigh in content, a trip to the hot springs was something that you definitely needed after working so hard on your commissions.

You carefully wrapped yourself in the towel and started heading towards the spring. The change in temperature caused a shiver to run through your body, shuddering gently as the steam curled around your damp shoulders. You breathed in the soft scent of earth, sighing softly as your body relaxed in the hot springs air.

Your eyes scanned over the area, before pausing on a figure that left your heart racing and your stomach flipping.

Ushijima paid no attention to his surroundings; his stare was focused on the scenery before him. But that gave you plenty of time to drink in the tall male before you.

He was truly the most beautiful person you’ve ever met before. His broad shoulders and rippling back muscles were completely exposed to your greedy eyes.

How you ended up with such a beautiful man was beyond your comprehension.

“What are you waiting for?” His deep voice filtered through the air, your gaze met his olive eyes and you felt your face flush immediately.

“Just appreciating the view.” You said cheekily before dropping your towel and settling yourself down into the water.

A long sigh escaped your lips as you submerged yourself completely. This was heaven; you couldn’t remember the last time you had been to the hot springs, and the fact that you got to spend it with the man you loved the most, it was definitely pure heaven.

“The scenery is very nice here.” he agreed, eyes scanning over the area once more.

You laughed softly at his statement, your hand gently pressing into the bulging muscle of his bicep. “I wasn’t talking about the scenery. I was talking about you Toshi.”

Ushijima felt his expression soften considerably as he looked down at you. You were resting your head against his arm, your eyes closed in absolute bliss.

This time Ushijima decided to scan over you, and fuck… you were the best thing he’s ever seen.

His eyes drank in every inch of your beautiful face, his gaze trailing over the strands of wet hair clinging to your face, wrapping around your collarbone and then your shoulders and…

Oh.

He shamelessly stared at your exposed breasts. He could feel his heart rate beginning to pick up as he started to register in his mind that you… no both of you were extremely bare to one another.

Ushijima couldn’t understand this sudden shyness that began to bubble up in his gut. He had seen you bare so many times before, he’s touched you so many times before, he’s had you in every way that he could think of; and yet… What was this sudden rush of arousal spiking through his blood right now?

Your eyes fluttered open and met intense olive colored ones staring right back. You felt your mouth go dry, your stomach twisting in a way that was all too familiar.

The only times Ushijima has ever looked at you like that was when…

“What is it, Wakatoshi?” You teased slightly, the flush in your face was something that you could blame on the hot water, not the fact that your hunk of a boyfriend was blatantly staring at you like he wanted to devour you whole.

“You’re beautiful.” he said simply, reaching out to tug on a strand of your wet hair. His strong, thick fingers gently began trailing against the skin of your throat, skimming across your collarbone. Despite the hot water, you couldn’t help but shiver at his gentle touch.

“I meant… is there something that you want Wakatoshi?” You asked, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you stared at him through your lashes.

“You. Always you.” he answered simply; his large hand curving gently around your jaw, cupping your face carefully.

Your stomach twisted pleasantly, an all too familiar burn bubbling deep within your gut, but also... your heart. Once again you were in awe of the man before you, the amount of love you held for him was far too much for your heart to contain, bubbling up and spilling over the longer you looked at him.

“You have me.” you said quietly, carefully pressing yourself closer to him, your hands rested gently against the bare skin of his chest, strong and oh so broad.

“Then kiss me.” he demanded, olive eyes burning into yours. Love and passion could clearly be seen in them.

So, you did. Your hands grabbing at his strong jaw, forcing him to stoop down to your level so you could properly kiss him.

Kissing Ushijima was possibly the best thing on the planet, his lips were full and strong as they moved against yours, unhurried, but incredibly needy and forceful.

His tongue licked against your mouth, hot and wet and deliciously perfect. You eagerly pressed yourself against his large body, melting against him completely. You were too hot, your body overheating immediately.

It was from the hot springs, right? Not from the hunk of a man that was currently grabbing at your bare waist and yanking you tighter against him, right?

Your head spun dizzily, pleasure rippling through your body, a soft whimper tearing through your throat as you felt his growing member press tight against your thigh.

Ushijima heard you, his grip on your body tightened slightly as he continued to devour your mouth. He began moving you, carefully backing you up further away from the deep end of the hot spring, and then your body was being lifted up until you were no longer in the hot water, rather, you were now sitting on the ledge of the hot springs.

Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your nipples hardening into pebbles under Ushijima’s watchful eyes.

From your perched position on the rocks you could easily kiss Ushijima and he could easily…

“W-What are you doing?” you whimpered out, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth, your heart was racing, faced flush, as you stared at the tall male.

His large hands were gripping your thighs, carefully moving them apart, his eyes gazing hungrily at your weeping cunt.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked slowly, and then he was stooping down until his face was between your legs… a hot, fat, tongue sliding up your slit.

You gasped loudly, eyes fluttering shut, as you leaned back on one of your elbows, your hand covering your mouth shot out and tangled into his damp hair.

Ushijima hummed slightly, tongue gently flickering against your throbbing clit.

He wanted to do this here? Now?

A thick finger slid easily into your wet entrance, causing your thighs to tremble at the sudden intrusion.

Apparently yes. Yes, he did.

When you finally opened up your eyes, the scene before you was absolutely sinful. Your swollen lips parted in awe as you made eye contact with Ushijima.

His pupils were dilated, the soft olive color completely gone. His wet hair clung to his face, you could see his tongue flickering in and out of his mouth as he continued to eat you out.

How was he so fucking perfect?

“Toshi… please.” you begged, pressure beginning to build up, you were so close, but you wanted him. You wanted his thick cock to stretch you out completely right now.

“Is there something you want?” he asked, voice deep and thick with arousal. His plush lips were wet, coated in your slick.

Oh fuck.

How did he look so fucking good between your legs?

“You. Please. No more foreplay, I want you inside me already, please.” you trembled, watching as he stood to full height.

Your eyes greedily ran down his naked body. He was just so… so fucking big, in so many ways.

The strong muscles of his arms, his chest, his stomach, stood proudly on display for you. But as your eyes traveled lower; you could almost drool over the sight of his erect cock, standing proud and ready to be engulfed in your tight heat.

His fist enclosed over his hard member, pumping up and down his shaft a couple of times before he finally stepped between your trembling legs. Carefully rubbing the head of his cock against your soaked folds, your eyes fluttered at the touch.

But then with a quick snap of his hips he entered you, bottoming out immediately.

His lips slammed down against yours, muffling the loud moan that was about to escape your lips.

Fuck, you were so full. No matter how many times Ushijima had you, you could never quite get used to his large size.

It was almost too much. But he knew that, which was why he waited for a moment, allowing you the time to get used to thick intrusion.

One of his large hands grabbed at your hip, the other was resting near your head against the ground.

After a few moments, your legs wrapped around his thick waist, a silent invitation that he could start moving.

Ushijima didn’t even hesitate, his hips snapping forward, his cock pressing into the deepest part of your tight heat.

The pace of his thrusts was unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to fuck you, despite the fact that you guys were at a hot spring.

“Do you hear that?” he murmured; soft squelching could be heard from your lower region. You were absolutely soaked, drenching his thick cock as he slid in and out of you perfectly.

You gripped at his broad shoulders helplessly, soft whimpers escaping your lips as you trembled under his large body.

It was too much… the hot springs, his body, his kisses, the grunts that were coming from his lips, the fact that your boyfriend was fucking you in a public place…

“I’m close.” you squeaked out, nails digging into his skin. The familiar burn, the ache for release; was coming up quickly.

His deep thrusts began to speed up, his hips hammering into you.

“Then cum.” he demanded, his hand reaching down to rub harshly at your swollen clit.

So, you did, gushing around him easily, your slick coating his hard member. He grunted loudly, immediately pulling himself out of you, his fist once again enclosing around his member as he hurriedly pumped himself, searching for release.

Thick ropes of his warmth shot onto your lower belly, hot and heavy against your skin.

You watched tiredly as he brushed the wet hair away from his forehead, his eyes trailing over your bare body, a soft expression easily covering his face now. Carefully he pulled you back into the water, situating you on his lap easily as you rested your head against his strong chest.

You sighed in content as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you Wakatoshi.” you said quietly, you peered up at him, a sweet smile coating your lips.

“I love you too.” he said eyes flickering down at you, a small smile appearing on his face.

A trip to the hot springs was definitely a good idea.

#haikyuu!!#Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima haikyuu #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi smut #ushijima wakatoshi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushijima fluff #one shot #ushijima oneshot #haikyuu fanfics #ushijima fanfic #smut #fluff

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 4 years ago

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all three heartbeats

bakugou katsuki / f.reader

genre: married au (husband/wife), angst, hurt/comfort?, fluff, katsuki being a sap in lowercase

synposis: katsuki works full time as a prohero, but his time working to ensure the publics safety kept him busy- far too busy at times. he seeks comfort in you and his newborn little girl because the both of you keep him grounded and keep him fighting. he just wishes he could find a way to feel like a better father and husband.

w.count: 3.6k

a/n: hi hello i aint never written for bnha before and i thought i would never write anime fics again but here we are years after (it has been actual years, someone save me LOL). what better way than to start back out with blasty amiright?

It was one of those nights. Katsuki had just walked into his home at an ungodly hour and as he shut the door behind him, he leaned his back against it, He flicked all three locks of the front door shut and dropped his duffle bag at his feet before he tipped his head back to rest on the wood. He closed his eyes, sighing as he had the urge to just sink to the floor of the entryway landing and power nap.

Lord knows when his phone would buzz or ring again- his seemingly never ending work calling him to clock in again. It seemed like recently he never clocked out of his job- always working, patrolling, fighting petty villains trying to commit petty crimes and occasionally stopping more dangerous situations that kept him on edge and busy for hours to days on end.

The duffle he dropped at his feet was full with his gear and his hero suit that was in desperate need of washing and minor repairs- things that if he even muttered to himself about, you would happily offer your aid.

His closed eyes opened and his chin dropped back down, the back of his head coming off the door as he pushed the rest of his body off it as well. He heeled off his shoes and ruffled his hair as he finally walked into his home, leaving his duffle at the door as he made his way to the bathroom.

In all honesty, Katsuki wanted to go immediately to the room he shared with you where he knew you were asleep. He desperately needed a shower though, and he wasn’t planning on crawling into bed to hold you smelling like sweat, smoke and hero work.

You told him before you didn’t mind his post-work scent, in fact you told him it was charming in it’s own way since it was proof that Pro Hero: Dynamight worked harder than anyone else to one day be the No.1 Hero he’d been dreaming of his entire life.

Katsuki never told you, but he’d think about that almost everyday and it always made him smile when he did.

The shower he took was brisk and quick because all he wanted to do was go to bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t just taking power naps on the couch at the agency. He couldn’t remember the last time he got to go to sleep in his own bed. Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time he got to hold you and it was starting to really piss him off.

Since graduating UA, getting engaged, married and then having a child with you, is tempter had considerably settled. He wasn’t entirely tame by any means, he was still a quick fire with insults, refused to use people’s names and stuck to stupid nicknames he thought of, cursed like a sailor and exploded when something mildly frustrating ticked him off- but he wasn’t like he was before.

When Katsuki can stand to be in the same room as Todoroki and Midoriya and not blow a giant fuse within the first sentence exchange, anyone would call that progress.

It was no shock that you were a large factor in his settled image- he had to start leaning self control and how to manager his attitude. The one extremely rocky point in your relationship with Katsuki back when you both were third years and you threatened to leave him if he didn’t shape up made him change. It wasn’t easy, but the arguments and fights you both had back then serve as a reminder of how far he had come according to you.

When Katsuki stepped out of the bathroom, he sighed- feeling refreshed- as he walked to the bedroom with a towel around his waist and another over his head drying his hair. It was way too late to be running the hairdryer, he’d risk waking up his child that he knew was otherwise dead to the world in their crib.

Twisting the doorknob as quietly as he could, Katsuki stepped into the bedroom and his eyes immediately looked to the bed, seeing your body’s shape beneath the comforter of the giant, Alaskan king bed you insisted you absolutely needed.

He felt his lips twitch as he left the door cracked to let in a small amount of light from the hall without stirring you. He went to his dresser and snatched a pair of shorts and a tank top and threw them on before he left the room as quietly as he had come in.

Katsuki went back to the front door and picked up his duffle bag, moving it into the living room and setting it on the couch to fiddle with it in the morning. He grabbed his phone from the side pouch of the duffle and began to shut the lights off and retreated back down the hall.

Before he went back to the room you slept in to join you, he stopped first in the room that was directly across the hall from his and yours and as quiet as a mouse crept in.

The nursey was painted in a pale yellow with sunflowers painted on the walls (curtesy of the bakusquad who insisted they were in charge of nursery decorations). Against the wall was a shelved cubby for toys and items for the baby and beside that was a changing table. Across the room was a tall dresser filled with way too many baby onesies and outfits for the future.

Katsuki walked to the white, wooden crib at the back of the room as the room itself was glowing in the soft, blue light of the baby’s nightlight. He leaned over the crib side and looked down to see his child sleeping just as quiet as can be.

He smiled as he reached down and stroked her chubby cheeks with the back of his knuckles. She was warm and soft.

“Hey there, Girlie,” he whispered, barely audible. Just watching his little girl sleep so soundly made his chest warm. God, he loved her so much. He frowned as he thought about how tough it might be on you while he’s away looking after her by yourself. She was barely a few months old and he hasn’t even had a weekend with you two yet.

Katsuki bit his lip to keep from letting the disappointment he felt in himself slip out in the form of growls.

He stuck around in the nursey for a few more minutes, just petting and admiring his child before he snuck back out and finally, finally went back to his room and as carefully as possible slid into bed.

You slept in the center of the bed that could easily fit four sleeping bodies, and Katsuki shuffled in further towards you before he was right behind you. He stared at your back in the dark room, his eyes adjusting more and more as the minutes pass.

Katsuki lightly grabbed your shoulder before he was pulling you to your back and then reaching over you to lay on your chest. On an ordinary day, Katsuki would be happy just holding you, but he felt especially worn out and drained. So, for once, even if you were sleeping, he just wanted to be held instead.

His cheek pushed into your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat beneath his ear. His right arm stretched over your shoulder to rest by your head and his left stayed beside his own body, his right leg hiked over your waist to be as close to you as he could get.

He felt his eyes roll before he shut them, finally feeling comfortable and warm and safe for the first time in days. He was finally breathing easy and all he wanted to do was stay here, in your arms, for the rest of his life.

As he started to finally doze off, his eyes fluttered open at the feeling of something carding through his hair.

He heard you take a deep breath before you were shifting just a bit to curl around him more and he felt your chin push against the top of his head.

“Go back to sleep,” he muttered, feeling your sleepy gaze on the top of his head. The small, sleepy chuckle that left your chest hummed against his cheek.

“Welcome home,” you whispered, sleep laced heavily in your voice as he felt your lips push against his scalp. “How was work?” You ask so innocently, but the question only made Katsuki burrow his face into your chest further. He doesn’t answer you, so you prompt him further. “Katsuki?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered, lifting his face just enough to speak clearly then pushing it back down again.

You say nothing at that and instead return to just carding your fingers through his semi-damp hair as you bask in each other and the silence of the house. You glance over to the alarm clock, seeing the time 4:03 am in orange, glowing numbers.

You feel like you have loads you want to talk about with Katsuki, things you want to share with him that had happened and things you want to have him tell you that’s happened, but it’s too quiet and too peaceful to bring them up. They’d have to wait.

“’m sorry,” he suddenly spoke from where he lay on your chest. Your fingers stop their mindless fiddling in his hair and he grips onto you tighter.

“What for?”

“Not being here.”

You felt your heart crack at the tone of his voice. He’s always been more open and mushy around you- as much as he denies it and he only get’s more open and more mushy when he was sleep deprived and just plain exhausted.

“I’m always working, always gone, always away doing fuck-knows-what out there and not here. I’m not home and that’s gotta really fucking suck.” He’s silent for a moment but you dare not speak. You feel like he’s been holding a lot in recently and if he’s choosing now to let it all out, you would silently encourage him to do that.

“I mean-” he scoffs at himself, “we’re married for fucks sake. We have a baby and I’m basically leaving you home alone day after day to raise her by yourself.”

“What?” Your shocked to think that’s how he feels. “Katsuki, that’s not-”

“It feels true,” he whimpers. “I feel like if I keep doing this, keep leaving you and Misuzu alone,” his voice cracks at the sound of his daughter’s name leaving his lips, “then you’ll both just disappear and I won’t even have the balls to go after you two.” You think you feel something wet seep through your sleep shirt, but you don’t say a thing about it. “I don’t feel like a husband and I don’t feel like a father. How can I feel like a hero if I can’t even spare the time to be with my god damn family?”

“Well,” you start. In truth, all you want to do is console him, but for all you know that could make him feel worse. You had to figure out what he wanted first. “What do you want to do then?”

He took a deep breath before he let it out again.

“I think I’m going to take some time off,” he concluded. It had been on his mind recently and now was as good a time as any. He just wanted to be home. “Maybe a week or two.”

“If that’s what you really want to do, then I think that’s a great idea. Just don’t forget to tell Eijirou or else he’ll blow a fuse if he just think’s your late because the great Dynamight is always punctual.”

You got a hearty puff of air and smile out of him for that little line. it was no shock that when all came down to it, Kirishima Eijirou and Bakugou Katsuki ended up working in the same agency.

“I’ll just text the bastard.”

“You need to tell the agency too, you dolt,” you lightly whacked him on the bed as he groaned. Getting time off wasn’t going to be hard for him considering the god awful hours he’s been forced into the past however long. Just going into the office to get that time off is annoying and a process he wish he could get someone else do to for him. “Just head out in the morning and let both your partner and your agency know. It won’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he huffed. “Just, go back to sleep.”

You glanced back at the clock to see that only about half and hour had passed. You sighed as you closed your eyes happily ready to return to sleep before Misuzu woke up.

You swore Katsuki was out before you.

-x-x-x-

You woke up three hours later, just after 7 am to the sounds of your daughter’s crying from her nursey. When you opened your eyes and sat up, your husband was no where to be seen.

You frowned, knowing that he was awake somewhere and he had only slept a few hours. Shaking your head, you got up and went to Misuzu’s room to get her from her crib and bring her into your arms.

You shushed the infant in your arms as you left the nursey and walked around the house. Katsuki was no where to be found and his everyday shoes were gone from the shoe rack next to the door. He must’ve went out already.

Not thinking much of it, you moved to the kitchen to grab one of Mizusu’s bottles from the fridge. One plus of pumping was getting bottles for the future- but that was one of the only pros among a number of cons.

With Misuzu being still so young, she didn’t do much beside nursing, napping and diaper calls. She would coo and whine and clutch onto your fingers and clothes and hair, but her energy was never prolonged.

After nursing, burping and playing with her she was yawning again. You left to place her back in her crib in her room as you let he sleep a little while longer. Flipping on the baby monitor, you left the room and went to the kitchen. Your daughter had breakfast, it was only fair that you got something to eat too.

As you scrambled the last eggs in your fridge, enough for Katsuki just in case you saw him this morning, you heard the front door open and shut again. You smiled as you heard footsteps come treading into the kitchen and you looked over your shoulder to see your husband.

You smiled at him as he rubbed the back of his head. Dressed in jeans that tore just slightly in the thighs and a t-shirt, Wwhen he saw you, he immediately started going towards you.

“Good morning,” you told him as he was at your side looking over your shoulder. “Welcome home.”

“Mmn,” he hummed at you.

“Where’d you go so early in the morning?”

“Agency.”

“You should’ve slept in a little bit more. You didn’t sleep long.”

“I didn’t want to wait any more to just be able to stay home.”

You smiled at his answer. You brought one hand up to pat his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“Why don’t you go get comfortable if you’re staying home then?”

He hummed at you again, nodding before he kissed your shoulder and sauntered back into your shared room. He took his time getting changed and getting into more homey clothes, because when he came back into the kitchen you were placing your food on plates for the both of you.

This time, when he came to you, instead of standing beside you, he latched onto you from behind as he buried his face into your neck. You could tell from the feeling of his eyelashes tickling your skin that he was still tired. You had half a mind to tell him to just go back to bed and he could really wake up and eat later.

The way he tightened his grip on your waist and started to sway ever so gently back and forth in the kitchen made you stay silent though. It was a serene moment between you two and you just closed your eyes and basked in it. It had been so long since you just got to bask in him and him in you.

“You hungry?” You asked as softly as you could muster. He nodded but made no effort to try and move away from you. “Do you expect to eat with your face hidden?” You teased.

“Just a little longer,” he muffled, his breath making your skin rise with gooseflesh as it tickled.

Half and hour later, you were taking his plate from him as he cleaned it of food and went to put them in the sink. He jumped from his chair at the table before he was gently moving you away from the metal hole in the counter where you were about to wash the dishes you had dirtied this morning.

“I’ll wash them,” he insisted.

“I don’t mind doing it.”

“Don’t be so damned stubborn. You cooked, so it’s fair.”

You shrugged as you relented. “If you really insist. Thank you, Katsuki.” You placed a small, short kiss on his cheek before you moved back to the table to sit.

As he cleaned up the dishes, you sat at the table and fiddled with your phone, scrolling through apps to see what you missed and then flicking occasionally to watch Katsuki’s back.

“I feel you fuckin’ staring,” he spoke as he shut the water off, shaking his hands before he dried them on a towel. The dishes all sat in a plastic draining rack as he turned around and leaned against the counter. You placed your chin in your palm as you laughed at him.

“Yeah? Got a problem with it?”

“Not necessarily.”

You both jumped when a small whine was heard over the speaker of the baby monitor you had sitting on the center of the table. You pushed your chair out, but before you could even stand up, Katsuki was up and down the hall to check on Misuzu.

When you made it to her door, he had already lifted her out of her crib. She had reached up and snagged a tiny handful of her father’s hair as he hissed.

“Listen you little brat, just because your my baby doesn’t mean you can yank on my hair.” Her small fist only yanked down on his hair more as if to say ‘I can and will’. You chuckled as you walked into the nursey and started to detangle her hand from his blond hair.

Katsuki watched as her fingers released his hair and instead wrapped around your finger as you bounced it slightly. Her tiny arm moved in tandem with your finger bounces.

“Hey,” your soft voice calling him suddenly brought him out of his own mind. You gently pulled Misuzu’s fingers off you as you pushed your palm against Katsuki’s cheek. “Why are you crying?”

Was he? God, he hated crying- especially in front of you. He clicked his tongue, whipping his head to face away from you as he used one of his hands to quickly swipe under his eyes.

“I’m not.”

You smiled at him, holding back a laugh as you pushed your husband into the living room to let Misuzu play on the floor. Katsuki sat on the living room floor cross legged as you watched him play with her as she lay on her back.

Occasionally he would glance at the time and remind you to pump, as if your tender chest wasn’t a constant reminder anyway. You always just nodded and told him you would when you needed to.

The three of you spent the morning in the living room until the infant began to yawn back to back and rub at her eyes clumsily. You let Katsuki put her down for her nap in the afternoon since he never really had the opportunity to. Through the baby monitor you could hear him mutter and coo at her to go to sleep.

When she was down, Katsuki came back into the living room and sat himself beside you on the couch. He sighed, throwing his head back against the couch and closing his eyes, obviously ready for a nap himself.

“Why not try and sleep while she’s down?” You had planned on getting him to rest while you start to go through the duffle bag you had relocated to the corner of the room a while ago to see what all he needed done with his hero equipment.

He opened one of his eyes, seeing you eyeing towards his bag and he frowned. He shifted his body, snatched your waist and threw himself back to lay on the cushions, you following in tow to lay on top of him.

“Katsuki!” You scolded in a hushed tone as to not wake up your daughter who just went to sleep.

“I’ll nap here and you will too. No objections.” He brought one of his hands up to start stroking your head. “Just let me take care of my god damn wife for once.” You just shook your head and pushed your cheek further against his chest to get comfortable. When he says it like that, you can’t really bring yourself to oppose him.

“Hey,” you whispered. You felt him hum in response to you. “I love you.”

His legs shifted and his arms wrapped around you tighter, getting more comfortable. He let out a deep, comfortable breath as you felt him push his cheek into the top of your head.

“‘Fuckin’ love you too.”

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tales-unique · 4 years ago

Text

FAITH, LOST

Chapter 1

Sheltered, that was your life. You had been born in the village and knew nothing of the world that lay beyond its borders. There were days that you would gaze up at the snow covered mountains and wonder, but ultimately give up. You know you would never have the nerve to leave everything behind. Not that you had much of a choice in the matter.

Cloistered by overprotective parents, your mother and father had raised you to be a respectable, religious woman, devoted to Mother Miranda and the four Lords under her command. Your faith was central to your being and, as your mother would often tell you, you would be rewarded for such candor in due time. Yet, as time went on and you bloomed into a young woman, you began to question when your time would come. Many friends had been taken from you in service of Mother Miranda and, despite your unwavering loyalty, you could feel envy seeping into your heart. Your faith never faltered, you never once spoke out against her wishes, and still you were not chosen. You're on your knees, giving praise and thanks at the altar when the church bells ring, summoning all the faithful to the Chapel. Moving with purpose you hurry to join the congregation, their numbers fewer than there were last time as a result of the Lycan attacks, smoothing down your simple dress as you take your place inside. There Mother Miranda stands in all her holy glory and you feel your chest swell with awe and pride. It had been years since your parents were taken but you felt nothing but happiness that they had gone on to serve such a revered and holy idol. You smile up at her in awe and wonder as she speaks to you all, arms open wide in welcome. She praises your commitment and resolve to follow the faith and calls on you all to offer another to her cause. In your ignorance you desperately pray to be chosen, but your voice is drowned out by the cacophony of the other devotees. But when all seems lost you look up, tears in your eyes, to see Mother Miranda looking directly at you. "You, child," she beckons you forward with a gentle flourish of her hand. Mother Miranda is speaking directly to you . You feel as though you're dreaming as you walk the aisle, coming to kneel before her. Your eyes never leave her, overcome with euphoria. She looks at you lovingly and touches your cheek with a gentle hand, your lashes fluttering. "Yes, you're perfect," she smiles, raising her arms like the Virgin herself as she addresses the others that you are the she will be taking. Finally your steadfast devotion rewards you after all these years. You grin in naive excitement at the congregation, who clap and smile and praise her name. But it doesn't reach their eyes. They are envious of you but are trying their utmost to appear virtuous before Mother Miranda. They have no idea that it’s them who are the lucky ones. Like those who have been taken before you, Mother Miranda gently covers your eyes with a silken handkerchief, rendering you blind and reliant on the firm grasp on your shoulder as she guides you to a destination unknown. The temperature drops and you feel uneven ground give way to hard stone beneath your feet and you feel unease settling in your bones. You haven't ventured far from the village, given the threat of the Lycans, Vampires and other things that plague your home, but you hold fast to your belief in Mother Miranda and that she wouldn't lead you astray. Suddenly, you're gripped by something strong and heavy, forcing you to a standstill. Instinct kicks in and you try to fight, to run, to do anything to get away, but it’s futile as your feet skid uselessly in the snowy dirt. Hands roughly grasp your hands and pull your arms out straight and gasp sharply when you feel a sudden cold biting at your wrists. Something cold, heavy and binding. Panic clouds your mind as you try to pull your hands free, turning this way and that when you no longer feel the comforting weight of her hands guiding your shoulders. Suddenly you’re let go, the attacking presence leaving you, and you try to catch your bearings. "Mother Miranda? Mother Miranda!" You cry out desperately and when you receive no reply your panic multiplies. Shivering, you strain to hear anything that gives away where you are or who is out there with you. When you hear nothing of value a strangled cry leaves you as the anxiety that this could be your death weighs heavily on you. You have no idea that this is exactly what she wants. "This way, child!" Her voice is a beacon in the darkness and you turn quickly to where you perceive her to be, only to be thrust into dizzying vertigo as your foot teeters on the edge of nothingness. You scream, scrambling back so quickly that you stumble and fall. You grunt with pain at where you land against the snow lined steps, blinking owlishly when light suddenly blinds your vision. In your haste the silken handkerchief, your makeshift blindfold, has been pushed down. It hangs limply around your neck while you blink to adjust to the light. "Oh God," you whimper, finally seeing just how close to the edge you had been. The village is a beautiful vista before you, the snow-laden ground glittering in the sunlight, but the danger is far too real for you to be able to admire it. The cold is still bracing as you quickly scramble to your feet and you realise as you struggle that your wrists are locked together in iron shackles. Confusion blooms within you, your brow creasing as you stare down at the unforgiving metal. Had you not shown Mother Miranda that you were completely devout? That you were willing to give her your very life if she asked it of you? Maybe you were being punished. Your blood runs cold at the thought. Determined to prove otherwise you venture up the steps with vigor, bracing against the cold. At the top you are confronted with an old, dilapidated Church not dissimilar to the one inside the village. You feel drawn to it, hurrying towards the large, wooden doors. Pushing them open doesn't take much effort, given how rotten they are, and you quickly enter to seek shelter from the cold. "At last, the little mouse finds her way." "It's about damn time!" "She made it! She made it!" "Look, she's here, Mother!" The voices talk over one another and you recognize them instantly; the four Lords of the village. "Welcome, child," Mother Miranda smiles at you from the raised platform at the head of the Church, "I'm so glad that you made it." "Mother Miranda, m-my Lords," you stutter, partly from the cold, quickly dropping to your knees and bowing your head out of respect. At your side a strange and terrifying doll dressed in a ratty white wedding dress skitters about, giggling maniacally and clapping her little, chipped porcelain hands. "Oh, you're very pretty! I like this one, Mother! Can I have her? Please, pretty please?" She chatters excitedly, screeching when she's pushed aside. "No, Mother, I should have this one! You promised!" Whines the grotesque, hunched monster, staring at you with glassy eyes. You know of Lord Moreau, from the Reservoir, as you recall his picture on the altar, just like Lady Beneviento and her sinister doll from her secluded mountain top estate. You whimper despite your best intentions, not wanting to offend, feeling your body sag slightly in relief when Mother Miranda waves her hand and forces them to leave you be. You blink up at her, tears stinging your eyes. You don't understand what is happening and you're afraid. "What a fragile little thing," a giant of a woman scoffs from where she sits off to the side, watching you with piercing gold eyes. She takes a deep drag from her cigarette, allowing the pale smoke to billow from her crimson lips as she observes you. You feel like an animal being paraded at auction, nothing at all like the splendor told to you in earnest by other members of the congregation. "Mother Miranda I must insist that I take her. My daughters are in need of a maid and some new entertainment , and this one looks so delightfully fresh ." The grin she gives betrays her predatory nature, shining through her beautiful and regal facade. Lady Dimitrescu, the Countess of Castle Dimitrescu, and one of the more revered Lords. You swallow nervously, recoiling meekly under her gaze, though it does little to help. You can’t escape her intimidating stare. The last is Lord Heisenberg, who lounges silently on a pew opposite Lady Dimitrescu. You know little of him, but you know his scarred face well from his picture on the altar. He radiates an aura of discontent and malice, no doubt finding this all a waste of time from the way he scowls when he looks at you. You would never have thought Mother Miranda would choose someone like him to be a Lord, given how little regard he seems to give the whole affair, but looks are often deceiving here. "Heisenberg," Mother Miranda speaks, her voice taut, "have you no say?" "What? Her ?" He points to you with his cigar, a booming laugh rolling off his tongue as he stands. He sets down the large hammer he had slung across his shoulder with ease, your form jumping at how its weight splinters the wood of the floor with ease. "She wouldn't last a minute on my table," he drawls, stepping up to you. He stoops to regard you and on impulse you try to retreat from him. The attempt fails and he grabs your jaw roughly in his hand, jerking your head this way and that as he examines you. The leather of his glove is rich and smooth, the scent of gun oil and smoke tantalizing your senses. "Oh you ignorant fool!" Lady Dimitrescu hisses, a wicked snarl on her lips, "she wouldn't be a test subject! She would be a servant !" "Why the fuck would I need a servant? All she'd do is get in the way!" Heisenberg snaps back, knocking you down with how roughly he shoves you away. He squares up to where the Vampire sits and Lady Dimitrescu is quick to rise to this blatant display of arrogance and disrespect. Her lips, painted a beautiful crimson, split to bare her teeth in a vicious hiss. “You wouldn’t know the first thing of what to do with her, you pathetic child !” She spits, “but then again, what would you know about having taste in staff in the first place?” “Oh, we know all about you tastes , you overgrown b—” "ENOUGH!" Your mouth hangs open and your eyes widen at the sight of Mother Miranda in all her splendor. Three pairs of magnificent, raven black wings extend from her back as she puts a swift end to the petty squabbling. Extending a hand out she motions for you to rise, an almost maternal smile upon her face. You don't know why a sudden sinking feeling of dread settles like a lead weight in your stomach, only that something sinister lingers as yet unseen. "My dearest one," she coos, taking your face gently in her hands when you stand before her. Her fingers are tipped in gold claws and are cold to the touch as they smooth over your cheeks. The black feathers shift ever slightly and you see more glimpses of the beautiful face of Mother beneath her gilded cage headdress. "You have been so loyal to me and my children, I know that you will be the perfect choice for this task." You swallow, suddenly feeling insignificant under the gazes of the Lords despite the uplifting words. Her hands, still tender in their endeavor, fall to your arms. She turns you gently, guiding you to your fate. The shock in the room is palpable when you are set in front of Heisenberg.

#RE #RE8 #RE 8 #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 8 #Resident Evil 8 Village #RE Imagine #RE Imagines #RE8 Imagine #RE8 Imagines #Resident Evil Imagine #Resident Evil Imagines #Karl Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg Imagine #Karl Heisenberg Imagines #Karl Heisenberg x Reader #Heisenberg Imagine #Heinsenberg Imagines #Heisenberg x Reader

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writerpeach · 5 years ago

Text

Stamina

Berrygood Johyun x Male Reader

8885 words

Categories: smut, public sex, oral, anal

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Read on AFF

Read on AO3

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This piece took a while to finish, I started over at least twice and didn't really feel like editing it much anymore, so apologies if it's not up to my usual standards. I will be taking a long extended hiatus from writing after this chapter and figure out what exactly I want to do next. Thank you all for continuing to read my writing.

Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas <3

"Ugh, babe, I'm so full!"

Johyun slurped on the last bit of her noodles, bringing the large porcelain bowl to her red lips and drinking the leftover broth. She wiped her lips and let out a sound of satisfaction.

“I would hope so, you ate like a pig,” you teased, finishing your own ramen and washing it down with a small bottle of milk which aided in cooling your tongue. You could handle spice just fine, but this restaurant always made things just a bit spicier than you were used to, which always caught you off guard.

Johyun stuck her tongue out. “Come give this pig a kiss then,” she said, leaning over the table and puckered her lips. You graciously fulfilled her request and kissed her on the lips before taking one more drink.

“Too hot for you, baby?” Johyun asked, noticing your sniffling nose that you were trying to hide.

“Maybe, I’m okay though. It was good though.”

“This is still the best ramen place in Seoul. What should we do now?”

“I could go for some dessert. Something to offset all this spice,” you replied.

“I think if I eat anything else it’s going to go straight to my ass, baby.”

“Well then we better get you something else. I love your ass.”

“I know you do, baby, you’[re always staring at it,” Johyun teased. “I think we should go for a run and work all this off. All these carbs and salt aren’t good for us.”

“Okay, but dessert-” you protested, not wanting to exercise at such a late hour.

“Dessert can wait, babe. It’s important for us to stay healthy.”

“Fine, you’re right.” Complaining wasn’t going to do you any good.

You hated working out. Cardio was your enemy, even a brisk walk left you out of breath.

The gym did have its benefits. Johyun always showed off her big round ass in very tight leggings, leaving little to the imagination as her defined plump buttcheeks swallowed up the fabric of her pants. You never would have stepped inside a gym voluntarily.

Johyun on the other hand loved to workout. It was part of her job to be in shape, and she worked out regularly, sometimes starting as soon as she woke up which you could never wrap your head around.

You had joined this particular gym as it was closest to your shared apartment and a close distance from both of your workplaces and had the benefit of being open 24/7, which you didn’t know was a benefit or a curse. Johyun insisted on paying up front for six months, insisting it would force you to commit to an exercise routine.

Making a quick pit stop at home to pick up water and change you held the door open for Johyun as she smiled and headed in first. She wore a pink shirt underneath a black jacket, while her lower half consisted of tight dark leggings, letting you see that wonderful plump ass and her full wide hips swaying as she entered.

This gym wasn’t like the other ones you had tried, full of loud gym rats who lived to lift weights and loved to let anyone know how much they could bench. It was smaller but still had plenty of various equipment and you never had to wait long for a machine to show up, allowing you to focus on what body parts you wanted to focus on or the dreaded cardio you loathed.

It was rather late when you entered, seeing a lack of anyone else in the gym. It was your lucky day. Your eyes scanned the rows of machines, deciding what you wanted to do first. Johyun settled on the elliptical first, taking a moment to warm her body up with a stretching routine.

You started simple, doing lat pulldowns while Johyun worked her arms and legs at the same time. You were tired after just one set, while she hadn’t even broken a sweat.

She moved to the row of treadmills facing a wall of mirrors, and you followed, taking a seat in a nearby weight bench and grabbed a set of free weights, using a heavier weight than you normally did as you tried to show off.

You had the perfect view of your girlfriend as she worked out, legs moving like a gazelle as the upped the incline right away. Her leggings hugged her ass perfectly, and you couldn’t decide where you wanted your eyes there or on her bouncing breasts as she jogged at a brisk pace.

“Babe, stop staring at my ass.” she whined as she caught you in the mirror even though you both knew she loved the attention.

“How can I when it looks so good? If you didn’t want me staring then you shouldn’t have worn those pants,” you replied, catching Johyun smiling in the same mirror you were caught with.

“Fair point. Look all you want, but we’re here to workout. I don’t want you slacking!”

“I am working out,” you said, demonstrating by doing more bicep curls in succession, making a point of flexing your muscles.

“My baby is so strong! Keep going!”

It was hard to focus when you were distracted by Johyun’s scrumptious ass, but you did what you could and at least pretended to finish more reps. Johyun meanwhile had increased the speed on her treadmill as her legs flowed gracefully like water and you were tired just watching her.

You exhaled loudly after doing three sets of ten, placing your dumbbells back on the rack and took a seat back on the bench, enjoying the view of Johyun’s bouncing backside as you took a long sip of ice cold water from your bottle.

While you tried to catch your breath Johyun winded her workout down, gradually decreasing the speed until the belt on the treadmill stopped moving. She spun around on her heels, giving off a sweet smile as she saw your lethargic body resting.

“We should work on your stamina, baby. You’re exhausted and you barely did anything,” she teased.

“I did plenty! I counted at least two hundred reps. I’m gonna be feeling it in the morning.”

“Is that so?” she asked, deciding to play along. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Thank you,” you said as you abruptly pulled her onto your lap, close enough to smell the honeysuckle scent of her shampoo that reminded you of candy.

“I forget how horny you always get after working out,” Johyun said, tucking a strand of hair behind her hair.

“You can’t blame me when your butt looks that good in leggings,” you said, giving her ass a soft smack.

“It really does, doesn’t it?” Johyun replied, tilting her head to one side as she gave you a kiss, letting you taste her sweet lip gloss on her puckered lips.

“Now, who’s horny?”

“You caught me,” Johyun said. “We should go shower, the hot water here lasts forever.’

“We didn’t bring anything to change into and there aren’t towels after hours. We can save water and I’ll clean you up instead,” you said as you dove into her neck, running your tongue and collecting her perspiration.

“Babe, no, I’m so sweaty!”

“I know. I love it,” you said as you continued to lick the sweat off of her neck, finding her taste succulent.

“I have a better idea,” she said as she brought her lips to the side of your face, turning her voice into a mere whisper.

“I wanna suck your cock, baby.”

Her lewd words sent a shiver up your spine and you felt yourself hardening already.

“We better get going then-”

Johyun shook her head, letting her intentions be obviously known.

“I can’t wait until we’re home, baby. I wanna suck your dick right here.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Someone could come in and see, I don’t think this a good idea-”

Johyun interrupted you by placing a finger to your lips, silencing any further protests. “It’ll be fine. I come here almost every night and not a single person shows up. This neighborhood is full of old people so they workout in the early morning.”

“Just relax, baby. Nobody will be here,” Johyun said, giving another kiss as she used your chest to dismount your lap and lowered to her knees slowly, placing both hands in her lap and eagerly looking up.

“I want to gag on your cock, baby. I’m dying to feel it throbbing in the back of my throat, baby, please, I need your cock so bad.”

Well fuck. She had you under her spell, and you certainly weren’t going to deny a woman begging to suck your cock. Johyun smiled happily as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your gym shorts, pulling them down to your ankles and exposing the bulge in your boxers.

“It must have been so difficult trying not to get hard while you were staring at my tight ass,” Johyun said as she pulled your cock out of your boxers, gripping it tightly and stroking, causing your first moan.

Johyun was an impatient woman which let to situations like this, wanting to have sex in as many public place as possible, now adding a gym to the list of checked off places.

“You’re like a rock already,” Johyun smiled as she gave a soft kiss on your tip, pulling the rest of your boxers down to your ankles as she squeezed your cock tighter, giving firmer strokes that made your throbbing shaft leak over her fingers.

You weren’t expecting the night to end with your pants around your ankles at your local gym, but Johyun’s spontaneity kept you on your toes.

Johyun didn’t waste time as she flattened her tongue against your shaft and slowly painted your cock with it, delivering long drawn-out strokes that caused pleasure already. She teased your swollen tip, swirling her wet tongue around it several times to increase your pre-cum, lapping up every drop of the colorless liquid.

“It’s too bad I didn’t bring my purse. You could have fucked my ass here in the gym,” Johyun taunted with a deadly smirk, knowing she always came prepared.

“We’ll just have to save that for later though,” Johyun said as she licked more of your cock, running her tongue over every surface and tasting it like it was a delicious treat for her, which it certainly was.

You never got tired of Johyun’s need to please you in public, and even though you caught yourself nervously looking around, you couldn’t help but selfishly want more.

“What is it, baby?” Johyun asked, spitting on your cock several times and jerking you off with her soft small hand as she spread her warm saliva all over.

“I wanna see your tits,” you replied, without a moment of hesitation.

“All you had to do was ask,” Johyun said as she grabbed the hem of her white top and lifted it up up and over her head, showing off an orange and red bra that you had never seen before that contained her full large breasts, the coloring popping out in the gym lights.

“Is that new?” you asked, unable to take your eyes off from her chest and taking note at how well her breasts were pushed up.

“This? It’s from my last photoshoot, they always let me keep what I model,” Johyun said. You knew she loved showing herself off during lingerie shoots, but always felt a little jealous, something she always sensed.

“Don’t worry, baby. Everyone gets to see me with this on, but you’re the only person who gets to see me with it off,” she said, giving a reassuring smile. She kept stroking your cock slowly with one hand while the other reached behind her back, unclasping her bra. Johyun tossed it aside, exposing her large milky breasts and nothing could take your eyes off them.

Your mouth watered at the sight of her huge tits. Johyun did her best to distract you as she planted several kisses on both sides of your cock, throbbing with each contact of her lips in preparation for what was next.

“You’re so hard for me, baby,” she said, kissing and licking your tip several times, and you responded with a low groan.

“You make me so hard.”

Johyun licked her lips and ran them along both sides of your needy shaft, giving your cock one final tease. You were both more than ready as her warm lips parted with your hard shaft in between, applying a light suction as she gently sucked your tip.

You gasped at the feeling of Johyun’s soft lips wrapped around your cock as they slid back and forth, her wet tongue adding more stimulation as it played with your sensitive underside.

Johyun’s warm wet mouth felt amazing, even better the deeper she took you inside it. She swallowed up half of your shaft as she bobbed her head up and down, slurping on your cock loudly. Her tongue swirled around your cock as more of it disappeared into her warm cavern, adding endless pleasure that ran through your whole body.

“Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” you moaned as Johyun kept eye contact, watching the pleasure she was giving. Her lips were sealed tight around your throbbing cock, bobbing her head faster as she quickly covered your cock in drool.

“It’ll feel even better if you fuck my face.”

The look in her lust-filled eyes was the only invitation you needed. Johyun stuck her tongue out as you slapped your hard shaft on it several times, giving off several loud smacks as you pushed back inside the warmth of her mouth.

Johyun’s need was visible and you didn’t dawdle, grabbing onto both sides of her head and forcibly started thrusting into her mouth, fucking your girlfriend’s pretty face in the middle of your favorite gym.

You were rough right away, not letting Johyun take any adjustment as you stuffed her throat with as much cock as possible, using her wet warm mouth like a toy for your own selfish pleasure. With each movement of your hips Johyun gagged repeatedly and drool spilling out of the corners of her lips, coating your shaft in saliva as she looked up with teary eyes with nothing but satisfaction.

The only sounds that could be heard were needy pleasurable moans you both gave off and Johyun loudly gagging on your cock as her gorgeous sparkling eyes filled with tears. Wrapping your fingers around strands of hair you increased your pace even more, moving in a harsher manner drool overflowed out of her lips and spilled down to her full perfect breasts, turning her stunning face into a beautiful mess that encouraged your thrusts to be even rougher.

“You like that, baby? You like when I use you?” you growled as you slammed your shaft deep down her throat as possible, sliding every inch of your wet shaft and out mercilessly as Johyun braced herself by holding onto your thighs.

If not for the look of wanton lust in Johyun’s eyes you would have been worried about hurting her, her nails digging into your skin signaling you were meeting her standards. Not wanting to finish abruptly you slowed down your pace and held Johyun against your base, her cute nose flushed with your stomach as she looked up and continued gagging, signaling for a break as she slapped your thighs several times.

When you released her with a loud pop she gasped for air as several strands of spit connected her messy mouth to your shaft, and you slapped her gorgeous face with your cock repeatedly and rubbed your tip all over.

“You were so rough, baby. I love choking on your cock, “ Johyun said with a huge smile as she leftover spit dripped out of her mouth and she spread it all over your cock.

“We shouldn’t let all this spit go to waste,” she said as she batted her eyes, taking your cock and slapping her soft heavy breasts with it before rubbing your tip up and down her cleavage.

“I know just what you want, baby.”

With a kiss on your swollen tip Johyun slipped your throbbing cock in between her huge pillowy breasts, trapping it in between warm flesh and squeezed her tits tightly to keep you from escaping.

“Oh fuck.”

Johyun smiled sweetly and didn’t waste time, moving her chest up and down as she used her abundant chest to grind up and down your body and create delicious friction. The pleasure was intense as you watched your tip disappearing in and out of her wet cleavage with ease, being lubricated properly as your cock was surrounded by soft warm flesh.

“You like fucking these big tits?” Johyun asked as she added more drool, spitting on your cock several times to ensure the friction remained as smooth as possible. The warm mounds around your cock caused endless pleasure as her huge breasts did their job, sliding up and down around your shaft that was locked up in between her warm cleavage.

“Fuck, baby, you know I do. It feels so fucking good.”

“You’re so easily controlled,“ Johyun teased. “I love how much my tits turn you on.”

She wrapped her soft breasts tighter, interlocking her fingers and squeezing your cock more with warm flesh everywhere that drove you insane. Johyun did her best to lick your swollen cockhead when it became visible again, sending even more electricity shooting up and down your spine with every strike of her wet tongue.

You worked together to achieve pleasure in tandem with Johyun, thrusting in between her huge soft mounds as she grinded them against your pelvis, making you moan loudly for her how good they felt around your dick.

“F-fuck, baby-”

You felt that annoying tightness in your loins that always showed up at the worst possible moment.

“You’re going to cum already?” Johyun frowned as she tightened the warm flesh around your needy throbbing shaft, not that there was anything you could have done to prevent it.

“My tits must be too much to handle,” Johyun smirked.

Truer words had never been said. You didn’t know how much longer you had, but it wasn’t more than a few seconds. Johyun’s assault with her breasts was deadly, and you couldn’t take it any longer. Savoring those final moments you watched your cock slipping in and out of her fleshy pillows, setting off your orgasm like she had just lit the fuse of a stick of dynamite.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess all over me.”

With a final glance between the soft flesh your cock was sandwiched in between, you throbbed wildly as you erupted in between Johyun’s tits as your toes curled. While your cock had disappeared in between her deep cleavage you filled it with several thick spurts, helping to lubricate your constant pumping motions, splashing her pretty lips and chin and painting her features white as you groaned incessantly.

Your legs shook as you were milked all over Johyun’s tits, white stickiness coated her skin as you struggled for air, your orgasm taking control of your body as Johyun rubbed your warmth into her skin, looking into one of the gym mirrors at the mess you made all over her and smiling proudly.

“We really need to work on your stamina,” she teased with her earlier words, drawing her tongue around your shaft to make sure everything had been given to her.

“Rest for a little bit, baby,” she said, flicking her tongue against your sensitive slit that caused a reaction in your whole body.

While you tried to regain your senses Johyun stood to her knees and playfully pushed you against the weight bench as you stepped out of your pants and boxers, still gasping for breath as you laid down.

She didn’t say another word as she faced away from you, still watching your reaction in the large mirror as she bent over and slowly peeled her leggings off, revealing a matching orange thong nestled in between her tight round ass.

You could feel your erection coming back to life already. Johyun kept her body bent over, rubbing her thighs before squeezing her ass, giving you the show of a lifetime. She spanked her ass on each side, the smack echoing as she wiggled her hips and shook her ass before pulling down her thong painfully slow an inch at a time, displaying her bare body for your eyes to marvel over.

Johyun’s backside was the work of hundreds of squats and dozens and dozens of hours at the game, and it was worth all that effort. You were able to see her naked body in full glory, those luscious long legs and thick creamy thighs, her beautiful ass and bare shaven pussy that looked like heaven, pink flesh dripping with arousal as you were ready for a taste.

“Since you’ve been appreciating my ass all day, I think you deserve a closer look.”

Your mouth salivated in anticipation and before you could even take another breath Johyun made her way over to the head of the weight bench, facing away from you. In one swift movement she took a squatting position and lowered herself onto you, the flesh of her bare soft ass pressed firmly against your skin, squishing your face.

There was nothing more you loved than to be Johyun’s chair, especially after a workout as you felt the warmth of her sweaty thighs surrounding your face.

“Do you like when I sit on your face, baby?” Johyun asked as she looked over her shoulder, the comforting warmth of her body pressed down as she put more weight down and smothered your face with her supple cheeks.

You found it hard to both breathe and speak, unable to form a response as you squeezed her ass in response, slapping each of her cheeks that rippled. You didn’t need to breathe when you could be suffocated by Johyun’s delicious plump ass. Blood flowed freely to your loins again, causing your erection to be at full attention.

“I can’t believe you’re hard again already,” Johyun said as she leaned forward and gripped your cock, resting a hand on your thigh while she stroked your shaft. You reciprocated and focused on giving pleasure as you licked her pink wet slit several times, making her moan.

“F-fuck, that feels good,” she moaned as she began bouncing her ass on your face, spreading her juices all over. You traced the outline of her pussy, sliding your tongue through her folds and exploring every surface you could find.

“Can you breathe, baby?”

You shook your head as you gave her pleasure, neither of you seeming to care. You saw nothing but delicious flesh in your vision as you ran your tongue through Johyun’s wetness, making her moan with every delicate movement you made.

“I can’t believe my naughty boyfriend loves being suffocated with my ass so much," she said, grinding her backside back and forth while she kept stroking your shaft.

You kneaded her soft cheeks with your hands, digging your fingers into her warm flesh. Her juices collected on your tongue and you couldn't get enough of her delicious juices spilling into your mouth.

"Mmm, fuck, that tongue feels so good. Eat my fucking pussy."

Giving several slaps on her bottom you had enough teasing and sucked on her swollen clit, making her thighs squeeze around your head tighter as she moaned with satisfaction.

Johyun kept you in between her thick thighs and you couldn't think of a better place to be then nestled under the comfort of her warm cheeks, tasting her delicious pussy like it was a full course meal.

While you became Johyun’s personal bench, time no longer existed as you ate Johyun out. You could have been there for a few minutes or hours, keeping your hands full of her cheeks as you licked her wet pussy everywhere. You wandered aimlessly as your face became wetter with each swipe of your tongue, giving her as much pleasure as possible.

It didn’t take long for Johyun to grow selfish, no longer caring about your pleasure but focusing on her own as she rested her hands on your thighs and shoved her ass against your face. You loved everything about her taste, the way her juices flowed into your mouth and you never wanted to stop until your tongue had gone numb, grabbing her hips and forcing your tongue as deep into her tasty cunt as it would go.

“Make me cum, baby. I’m so close,” she said, closing her eyes momentarily as she moaned lustfully, wanting to savor this moment forever. Lips closed on her clit you slurped her juices that leaked out, desperate for more to fill your palette and helping her chase the end that was in sight.

“B-baby, don’t stop, please fucking stop, I’m going to cum on your face-”

It didn’t take long. Johyun’s thighs put your head in a vice-like grip, digging her nails into your skin as she hit her peak and screamed in pleasure. You felt wetness gushing everywhere, coating your face in her sweet essence as her toes curled and the thighs around your head violently trembled.

You did what you could to help her ride out her orgasm, running your tongue through every surface that contained her juices, cleaning her up and making sure not to waste a drop. It took several moments for her orgasm to subside as she released you from the constricting hold she had on you, allowing you to breathe for the first time in several minutes as you gasped for air.

“H-holy shit, baby, I came so hard,” Johyun said as she gingerly turned around to face you once more, looking down at the mess she had just left deposited on your face. You showed your appreciation by licking your lips, not even bothering to wipe her juices from your face as you pulled her into a kiss, making her taste herself on your tired lips.

“You taste so good. I wish I could eat you for every meal.”

Johyun laughed at your cheesiness, giving you another deep passionate kiss as she held onto both sides of your face.

“You made me feel so good. I want to make you feel even better.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well...seeing as you’re still rock hard for me,” she laughed, looking back and grabbing your throbbing hard cock.

“How about I ride you, baby? You did all the work for me, so I’ll do all the work for you now.”

“Ride my cock, then.”

Johyun was quick in her approach as she climbed onto the weight bench and straddled your lap as her soft thick thighs wrapped around your waist. There was lust and hunger in her eyes as she reached back behind her and claimed your hard cock, stroking it several times and couldn’t wait to be filled up with it.

“I want you so badly, baby. Fill me up with that thick cock, will you do that for me?”

“Of course. Whatever you want, baby.”

Johyun lifted her body up, letting you see the pink glistening flesh that was your destination, rubbing your tip in between her wet folds. She felt wetter than she had when your tongue was inside, and you wanted that wetness all over your cock, something you weren’t going to wait long for.

Carefully lining up your cock with her pussy, Johyun aimed it at her dripping hot entrance. She bit her lip in preparation and pushed her hips down, parting her silky lips as she sank down and let every inch enter her body with a loud greedy moan.

“Baby, you’re so big,” Johyun said, taking a moment to gather herself as she took a deep breath. Her tight dripping walls were so warm, squeezing your shaft to make sure you weren’t leaving her body anytime soon.

With hands on her slim tight waist you shared exchanged glances of lust, waiting for the pleasure to be delivered equally.

“Ride that cock, baby” you demanded, as if she were looking for your permission. Johyun placed both hands on your chest, flashing a smile as she moved in small motions, using her hips to grind on your cock.

You felt wetness and warmth surrounding your shaft, amplified by every rock of her hips. Johyun took it slow at first, watching herself in the gym mirror.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Johyun said as she rode your cock, establishing a rhythm. Every entrance into her pussy caused a satisfied moan to escape her lips as she took you deep into her body.

Her pace quickened, hips working in smooth movements as she took your shaft inside with ease, juices lubricating to make every motion fluid as could be.

Johyun was so wet and tight around your cock as her perfect large breasts bounced up and down beautifully. You captured both mounds in your hands, squeezing the delightful soft flesh with your fingertips.

You felt your cock bring drenched with juices as Johyun rode you harder, bouncing her ass on your crotch.

With Johyun’s soft breasts in your hands you massaged them, pinching her rosy pink nipples that had stiffened at your touch. You quickly gave each of her voluptuous tits a slap, causing a gasp from Johyun as she tightened around you, signaling her enjoyment.

"Oh fuck, baby. Slap those big tits!"

You did as she asked, slapping each of tits individually in succession several times, pinching her nipples in between. You slapped both tits at the same time over and over, watching the satisfying ripple of soft flesh and the loud smack of flesh on flesh as you left your handprints on the tender skin. Johyun let out several desperate needy moans, her pussy constricting even more around your shaft.

Massaging the now tender skin, you fondled Johyun’s sore breasts, playing with her nipples as you brought your mouth to her chest, kissing each mound before licking stripes up and down her cleavage, tasting the sweat collected already.

She flashed a look of appreciation as you dove in, latching your lips onto each of her sensitive nipples, hungrily sucking each one. Johyun whined as you slurped on her juicy tits, bouncing carelessly on your cock as you covered them in saliva, biting, licking, and sucking on her tits as if you couldn’t ever have your fill.

Johyun became more aggressive, slamming her body down hard on you as her sweaty thighs met your own, each bounce more forceful, more full of wanton desire. You kept your assault on her breasts going, giving teasing flicks against her sensitive nipples as you felt your cock being drowned in her juices.

You ran your hands all over Johyun’s sweaty body, feeling every curve of her perfectly sculpted body. Johyun moved swiftly and grabbed the back of your head, pushing you deep into her cleavage and smothering you with her large heavy breasts, the perfect resting space for your face.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby!” Johyun cried out, as for the second time you felt it hard to breathe, not that you ever would have complained. Her nails dug into your skull as she forced you deeper into her tits, enjoying being smothered by the softest pair of pillows you’ve ever felt.

Johyun aggressively rode your cock as you tried to ilck whatever flushed skin you could find, wildly moving her hips without a care, the loud slap of skin on skin echoing all around the gym walls.

“Cum on my cock,” you muffled out, feeling the tight dripping walls of Johyun’s needy pussy pulsating around you harshly.

“I-will, f-fuck! I’m cumming, baby!”

It was quick and wordless, moans escaping Johyun’s throat as she rode you to completion. Her bouncing thighs felt so warm and soft as they crashed against your body, as did her delicious buttcheeks smacking against your own skin. In seconds flat Johyun became a loud squirming mess, drenching your crotch with her nectar as her thighs trembled violently. Her warm wet pussy pulsated while you let her have your way with you until her intense orgasm settled down.

You didn’t let up, pumping your shaft inside Johyun to catch up, desperately wanting to chase your own orgasm as well. With the intense pressure around your cock you pumped harshly inside, the slapping of your skin against her own as you fucked her, squeezing her delicious round ass.

“Are you close, baby?” Johyun asked, her voice still frail from her climax as her glazed over eyes struggled to keep open as she flashed a sweet smile.

You answered only with words, bouncing Johyun aggressively on your cock repeatedly as your eyes were unable to focus on anything besides her bouncing tits.

“I want you to cum now. Fill me up and cum inside me, please, baby, please cum for me,” Johyun begged, and it wouldn’t be much longer before she would have her wish.

The air inside the gym grew harder to breathe as you reached those final moments, watching the lustful look inside Johyun’s eyes as you both waited for the inevitable.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Johyun,” you said the final set of words before the pleasure in your body became too much to handle. With one more set of thrusts you buried your cock deep inside Johyun as your cock throbbed, mercifully emptying several spurts of hot thick semen deep into her walls all the way to her womb and keeping your hands full of her delicious asscheeks.

Johyun kept her eyes on you as you finished emptying your seed deep into her cunt, letting her pussy milk your shaft of every last drop until she had taken everything into her body as your body shook from the pleasure of such an intense orgasm.

“That’s what I like, baby,” Johyun said with a pleased smile, leaning down to give one more kiss before gently lifting her tight naked body from your depleted shaft. Your cock released from her pussy with a loud forceful pop as your freshly deposited load slowly leaked from between Johyun’s thick thighs, releasing a creamy liquid mixture of both of your bodies that escaped from her freshly fucked pussy.

“We really made a mess,” Johyun shyly said, using her tongue to clean off your cock before before grabbing the closest towel and wiping off the workout bench.

“I blame you,” you teased, still catching your breath. “Let’s get out of here and take that shower.”

✦✦

It was a safe assumption to say that Johyun was a bit of a screamer. And there was no better place to let out her lustful emotions than in your shared apartment underneath the hot water currently steaming up your large bathroom.

Water droplets bounced off Johyun’s milky wet skin as you pinned her tight naked body against the shower door, smacking your hips against her ass in a rhythm as you drilled her harshly from behind. Her large round breasts were mashed against the glass surface as her palms flattened against it, desperate to find any outlet for the sharp pleasure running up her spine as she was impaled to the hilt with a thick cock repeatedly without mercy.

“F-fuck, that’s so good! Just like that baby, don’t stop fucking me!” Johyun moaned as your hands squeezed her hips tightly, making sure her body never left your fingers.

Hot water ran down both of your bodies, accentuating the already flawless curves of Johyun’s naked body as the smack of flesh on flesh echoed around the shower walls, mixing with needy screams and cries of pleasure. The shower door shook with every thrust of your shaft, moving in and out of her pussy carelessly as your hands moved from Johyun’s full wide hips up to her soapy wet breasts and squeezed firmly.

“You like being fucked like this?” you growled near Johyun’s ear, feeling her wet walls clenching around your cock in response that brought a smile on your features from ear to ear as your bodies crashed together and you nibbled on her earlobe.

“Y-yes, f-fuck, yes, baby I do!”

While you appreciated Johyun’s love of public sex and the thrill it brought, you vastly preferred fucking her in the privacy and comfort of your apartment, able to freely let out your raw emotions and be as loud as you wanted without bothering anyone else.

You gave Johyun a handful more thrusts before letting your cock slip out of her tight pussy as she whined cutely from being abruptly empty, a feeling that wouldn’t last long thankfully.

Taking a moment to admire the view, every curve and naked flesh of Johyun’s bare body, you rubbed your wet shaft all over the inner flesh of her warm soapy thighs, and she knew just what to do as her thighs closed around your shaft, trapping you in between them - one of your favorite places to be.

Johyun’s sculpted body was nothing but perfect, every body part flawless and worked together to create a work of art. It was regretful to not be able to see Johyun’s big supple breasts, your favorite part of her body if you had to pick one, but being able to fuck her thighs was just as pleasurable to you.

Her thighs brought immense pleasure, just as much as other parts of her body. They were thick, creamy, and most importantly felt amazing wrapped around your dick, you never wanted to leave their comfort.

They felt softer than silk as your cock was sandwiched in between her warm flesh, using her muscles and squeezing tight to keep you trapped inside her thighs, a destination you never wanted to leave.

“Mmm, baby, fuck those thighs,” Johyun pleaded, as your throbbing cock slowy slid in and out of her soft flesh, the body wash left all over her body making it the perfect lubricant to allow the smoothest friction possible. You held onto Johyun’s insanely wide hips, letting out needy groans that echoed as your shaft was being smothered by the softest thing you’ve ever felt and giving off heavenly sensations.

You closed your eyes for just a moment, allowing yourself to fully appreciate the feeling of delicious soft flesh surrounding your cock as your pace increased. When you opened your eyes back up you felt a wetness forming, not just from the shower but the juices from Johyun’s leaking pussy, aiding your ability to thrust even more so and ensuring this was something you were both enjoying.

“That feels so good, baby. Does it feel good for you? Does it feel good to fuck my thighs?” Johyun asked, her legs squeezing even tighter as you gasped at the pleasure that was driving you insane.

You didn’t feel like answering, not that Johyun didn’t already know how good you felt in that moment as every bit of pleasure shot through each section of your body, jolts of electricity putting you in a deep euphoric state.

“I wish I could fuck these thighs forever,” you said, increasing your pace even more as you felt a familiar tightness in your abdomen, a sensation you were equal parts thankful and annoyed at.

“If you work on your stamina maybe you can,” Johyun teased, and you couldn’t think of a better set of motivation.

It was like your body was taunting you as you felt your climax approaching right then, a moment that Johyun couldn’t help but notice, but you still felt the need to announce.

“I’m going to fucking cum,” you hissed, louder than expected.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess all over my thighs.”

It really didn’t take much longer. Gripping her hips tightly as you could, you kept the slippery motion going until you knew you had to give in, throbbing between the warm flesh you were trapped between as you shot hot cum onto Johyun’s thighs, grunting with every spurt as the rest of your load sprayed the shower door.

You kept pumping in between Johyun’s thighs as long as you could stand it, never wanting to forget the euphoric feeling as your cock was milked again for the second time. Your thrusts began subsiding until your sensitivity kicked in and you could barely move, resting between Johyun’s warm thighs as you recovered, catching your breath.

You slowly withdrew from the warmth of Johyun as she spun around to meet you, a smile curled on her lips.

“We didn’t get very clean did we?” Johyun said with a cute tilt of her head, grabbing the shower head as she washed the suds off her body.

“I only have you to blame.”

Johyun’s mouth opened in surprise. “Me? You have your share too!” she whined in protest.

“But you seduced me with your body. Like you always do.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. “You caught me. I’m guilty," she said with a perfect smile on such a perfect face as she made sure to wash off every bit of soap before turning off the water.

The two of you stepped out of the shower, Johyun grabbing a towel to tie up her hair while she dried the rest of her body. It didn't take you long to towel off as you headed into the bedroom and flopped face first into the sheets with exhaustion, not even bothering to get dressed.

Johyun stepped out of the shower shortly after, tossing her towel off her hair when she saw your lifeless body on the bed and joining, pressing her body against yours as you could feel her breasts on your back.

"Baby, don't tell me you're going to sleep already. You still need to fuck me some more," she said abruptly.

"You wore me out," you replied, grabbing a pillow and burying your face in it, pretending to sleep.

"Baby…" Johyun whined, rubbing your shoulders and kissing the back of your neck.

"I can't believe we had sex in the gym and nobody caught us," Johyun said.

You lazily flipped around, meeting her gaze as her hands rested on your shoulders.

"We shouldn't have gotten caught since you said nobody goes there at night."

"Usually."

"Usually?" you repeated.

"Nobody showed up the few times I went there, so it was a safe assumption."

"Few times? I thought you went there every night."

"I do, but I just started going there a couple weeks ago," Johyun said, smiling mischievously.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you had been tricked.

"But you know the neighborhood, right? Nothing but old people?"

"I have no idea, baby. I just go there after work," she said as her grin increased.

"Johyun. We really could have gotten caught-"

"But we didn't, did we?"

"You're bad."

"Oh? Am I?" Johyun asked as she bit the tip of one of her fingertips.

"Yes. My baby was naughty tonight wasn't she?"

"But you love when I'm naughty don't you?"

“You know I do. You’re my naughty little slut,” you said, responding with a quick slap on her bare ass, causing a gasp to escape her lips.

“Are you going to punish your naughty little slut?” Johyun asked, biting her lip deeply and staring into with the deepest gaze.

“I just might do that. How should I punish you?”

“You should fuck me. Fuck me so hard that I can’t walk tomorrow. “

You furrowed an eyebrow in response at such something relatively tame. “But I do that every day, that doesn’t like much of a punishment. “

“Then fuck me here,” Johyun said as she guided one your hands between her plump ass, spreading her cheeks to let you know just where she wanted you. You teased her puckered hole with your middle finger, looking at the look of approval in her eyes.

“Is there where you want it? You want my cock right here?” you asked.

Johyun playfully nodded. “I know you’ve been dying to fuck my ass since we left the gym. Well now you have the chance, don’t you baby?” she asked, gesturing towards the bedside table drawer.

You both smiled together as Johyun climbed off your body, positioning herself onto the bed on her hands and knees while you grabbed a bottle from the drawer. You never got tired of the sight of Johyun’s big round ass as you lined yourself, feeling the blood to your loins again as you were hard as a rock.

Before you did anything you squeezed Johyun’s buttcheeks firmly, giving each one a hard slap as her soft flesh rippled. You gave her beautiful supple ass repeated smacks, the loud crack of your palm on her flesh until her cheeks had a light pink tone on them, continuing to smack Johyun’s plump ass until you were satisfied.

“Is this my punishment?”

“Of course not, baby. I know you love this too much.”

You caught a smirk on Johyun’s face as she looked over her shoulder, watching as you continued slapping her ass under her skin was sore, rubbing your hands all over her skin to soothe out the stinging sensations.

“I do love it,” Johyun said, wiggling her ass cheeks as you continued caressing her tender skin.

“But I’ll love it even more when you put that cock in my ass,” she said with a devilish smile that you returned. You lubed up her tight puckered hole and your shaft, admiring what a perfect backside she had as you gave her body a gentle push. Johyun got the hint, sliding her long legs under your body and laying flat on her stomach, allowing you to take her at your mercy as her naked body was completely prone.

You positioned yourself carefully after taking a moment to admire Johyun’s full supple ass and the soft cheeks you were about to drive yourself deep into, spreading your thighs wide and resting them on the outside of her ass.

You gave her full tender cheeks another smack with both hands and brought your shaft in the middle of them, gently thrusting in between the warmth and softness of her flesh, sampling the appetizer before you were about to have the main course. With your slick cock in one hand you lined yourself up with the puckered hole waiting patiently for you, holding a hip with the other as you teased Johyun’s back entrance you were about to enter.

“Put it in my ass already, baby,” Johyun whined, sharing your impatience as your tip rubbed against the rim of her ass. Pushing carefully, you let out a light moan as you entered Johyun’s tight asshole with your tip, watching it slowly sink inside as you penetrated her more intimate area.

Johyun took a deep breath as her muscles relaxed, allowing you to push deeper into her ass with ease. This wasn’t the first time you had partaken in anal sex. Hell it wasn’t even the first time that week that you had entered her tighter hole. Johyun loved anal as much as you did thankfully, with an ass like hers that she was proud of it wasn’t surprising that she loved it being filled, wanting you to take her in her butt just as much as her other holes.

“You can go deeper, baby,” Johyun said, a set of words that you were always happy to hear as you filled her more inch by inch as her ass swallowed up more of your shaft. The tightness you felt squeezing your shaft as you pushed in deeper was like nothing else you’ve felt. Her ass was so much tighter than her pussy, which already was incredibly tight hugging your cock and refusing to let go. Each inch that entered Johyun’s body was clenched tight, fitting perfectly inside her until you had filled her up to the hilt.

You gave her a moment to adjust to your length, which wasn’t necessary as expected.

“F-fuck, baby you feel so good inside me. Fuck my ass, baby.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You held onto her wide hips and began thrusting in and out of her incredibly tight ass, feeling the deep clench of your shaft with every movement. You didn’t bother with any type of build up, you knew she didn’t need it as you gave hard forceful thrusts into her ass, using the power in your hips as your cock stretched her tight little hole.

“How does that ass feel, baby?” Johyun asked.

“So good. You’re so fucking tight, baby,” you replied as you formed a rhythm, moving in and out of Johyun’s super tight asshole at a steady pace.

“Harder, baby. Pound my ass.”

You wanted nothing more as you held onto both of her delicious ass cheeks for leverage and upped your pace, pressing your fingers into the soft flesh as your hips smacked against her ass, causing the bed to squeak loudly with every motion.

“Oh fuck, just like that, baby. That cock feels so good in my ass.“

You were losing your mind at how good the pleasure felt. Your lubed cock slid in and out to the hilt with each thrust, the loud slap of flesh on flesh filled the room as you pounded into Johyun’s tight little hole. Her face was buried into the mattress as her hands formed tight fists, squeezing the bed sheets desperately and trying to find an outlet for the intense pleasure as you impaled her repeatedly.

“You’re so deep in my ass, don’t stop!” Johyun cried out, as you were giving her body the hardest thrusts possible. Her cries, moans, and gasps were every bit of encouragement you needed as you slammed into her ass, using every bit of force to make sure she felt every bit of your cock.

You loved being this rough with Johyun, and judging by the constant stream of drawn-out moans she loved it just as much, taking every thrust so well.

“Oh god, baby, I love when you fuck me like this. Keep fucking my ass, don’t stop until you cum in it!”

Well, you certainly didn’t want to disappoint her. You held onto her shoulders as you pounded into her tight gripping asshole, the bed shaking wildly underneath each harsh thrust in a way you weren’t sure it was going to hold.

Sweat began misting on your body, dripping down your forehead as you kept up the merciless pace. You were giving Johyun everything you had as she moaned lustfully with every thrust, taking every inch of your cock so well and not wanting you to let up.

“I’m so close, baby,” you moaned out as you continued pounding her ass roughly as possible, feeling the hot tightness of her hole as you used it for your pleasure, causing the flesh of her big ass to ripple as you pumped in and out of her.

“Cum inside me, baby. Fill my ass.”

“I fucking will,” you growled back, slamming into Johyun’s ass as hard as you could, losing your self control as you drilled into her hot tight hole and savored those final moments. It was so rough, so raw, so animalistic that you couldn’t help last that much longer.

It took just a handful of thrusts more before you reached your limits, throbbing inside Johyun as you sent spurts of thick hot cum deep into her impossibly tight ass, filling her up to the brim. The two of you moaned together as your shaft continued emptying into Johyun, draining your balls as her body milked you dry of every drop, making sure you didn’t leave a single drop outside.

You rested for several moments, attempting to catch your breath as you press your body against Johyun, kissing her neck several times just below her ear, sharing a chorus of heaving breathing and gasps.

“Baby...you came so much inside me,” Johyun said proudly as you kissed her shoulders and upper back. “It’s so warm…”

When you feel your breathing had normalized, you slowly slipped your shaft out of Johyun’s backside an inch at a time. You watched your generous load leaking out of Johyun’s gaping asshole and dripping down her thighs, a warm thick stream that flowed freely and spilled onto the sheets.

“You made me cum so much,” you replied, crashing besides her onto the mattress in an exhausted heap.

“Wanna go again?” Johyun teased, running a finger through her messy thighs to collect a sample of your freshly given semen before taking it into her mouth and sucking it clean. You were too exhausted to formulate any type of response, and Johyun took your silence as an answer as her sweaty body rested against yours.

“You really did a number on me, baby,” Johyun said, her massive breasts resting on your chest as she smiled sweetly at you.

You could only stare at Johyun’s beauty, trying to think of anything to say but finding words difficult in that moment. Sometimes it was better off this way. You didn’t care how long it took to work on your stamina, knowing that it meant countless hours of sex with Johyun was the best possible way to train.

#berrygood smut #johyun smut #male reader #johyun #reader insert #berrygood #kpop smut #johyum #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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red1culous · 4 years ago

Text

Oh part 1

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

Standing in front of that imposing building you felt your resolve falter slightly. It looked as though nothing had changed in years. Even the grove of trees that lined the driveway, tall and graceful, seemed to be frozen in time.

One foot in front of the other, you coax yourself.

You suck in a laboured breath and walk into the large courtyard stopping once again as you take in your surroundings. You had hoped to be able to come and go without notice but the gravel covering the courtyard was doing a great job in announcing your arrival.

This is new, you think to yourself slightly amused at your naivety thinking things would have stood still just because you left.

You hadn’t been back in over a decade after that little incident and if anyone had told you you would be standing where you were right now, you would have laughed in their faces before smacking them across it.

You walk through a smaller sylvan courtyard of blooming orange trees. In its centre you see a fish pond. Smiling you look into it and search for the red and gold koi you had put there when you built the pond as a birthday present for Tony. It swims up to the surface as if it recognises you and if it weren’t for the boxes you were lugging about you might have even bent down to poke at its mouth.

For a split second you consider turning around and walking, no, running away. Screw the freshly baked muffins that were precariously balanced on you. You could just head back to the shop and sell them off at half price. You didn’t need the huge commission that the Avengers had agreed to pay for them. No you definitely didn’t need it…

…you also definitely did not need your business partner chewing off your ear about passing off said commission.

Think of all the rich people eating your food? you can hear her clawing voice bounce about in your head.

In truth you knew that the Avengers could easily afford a better baker. The best pastry chefs this side of the globe would happily saw off their left foot to be able to cater for them. But Pepper rings your mobile phone, claiming she meant to actually dial the shop, to place an order…a significantly large one…one she knew you would not be able to resist.

“Shit…” you mumble under your breath seeing the cause of your stress marching towards you a huge smile on her face.

“Is that how you greet an old friend?” Pepper says holding onto your upper arms and leaning in to place air kisses on your cheeks.

“No of course not…it’s just…umm…” you stutter as your heart thumps so hard it rattles its ribcage.

“I know…it’s a little weird being back” she says hands still holding you in place as if she knew you were about to bolt right out of there.

You shrug chuckling a little. “It’s stupid isn’t it?” you adopt a wide smile which had always been effective when dealing with difficult customers.

“Don’t give me that look” she swipes at your chin, “and it’s not stupid either. Just so you know, we’re all on your side.” She adds giving you a sympathetic look and you calm slightly at her words.

“Thanks Pep.”

“Ok you head in. I’ll meet you inside in a bit, you don’t mind do you? Tony ordered a grand piano and it’s just arrived…” she trails off.

“Sure, I know my way around” you say smiling as she squeezes your arms before letting you go. Of course you knew your way around. After all, this had been your home too for over 5 years.

5 years of bliss with her.

You mentally chide yourself. Nope, not gonna go back there.

As you climb the white marbled steps that led to the main door of the mansion you steal a glance at the silent looming windows glinting in the early morning light. You hesitate a little seeing a shadow pass quickly across one of them.

Shit.

Shaking your head, yet again, you finally reach the large oak doors. The bright and zesty scent of your lemon muffins waft into the air and as you are about to ring the doorbell the solid doors open revealing a tanned and muscled man in a shirt way too small for his body.

“STEVEN!” you shout whisper as his face splits into a wide grin.

“Y/N! Wh-what are you doing here?” he almost engulfs you in a hug stopping at the very last moment realising your arms were occupied.

“I-I��umm, muffins?” you return his grin looking down at your packages.

His eyes widen a little before taking some of the boxes from you. He balances 3 with ease in one hand as he pulls you inside. “No I mean I knew we had ordered from you…,” he says walking with you towards the kitchen, “…but I thought you said you were going to send a runner or something.”

“Well I was but our regular guy called in sick” you say gently placing the boxes onto the kitchen island.

“Well isn’t that unfortunate” he eyes you winking when you catch his gaze.

You roll your eyes at him. “No Steve, it’s the very opposite of what you mean.”

“Oh come on Y/N,” he shuffles up beside you to bump your shoulder, “it’s been so long.”

“It has...but hey! I get to see you again!” you bump his shoulder back and he pretends like it hurts him. “Ok so these need to be consumed within 3 days…”

“Woah woah woah now…” he cuts you off, “…you’re talking like you’re about to leave.”

He gives you a sad pouting face. His crisply parted hair makes him look like a choirboy albeit a very well built one. You almost feel sorry for him.

“Steve you know I don’t belong here” you say fingering the hem of your shirt.

Your answer seems to baffle him. He straightens up and stares at you for a moment narrowing his eyes slightly. “I’m skipping my morning run just to hang out with you, so you can at least spend some time with me.”

“Steve…” you protest before he cuts you off again.

He raises a hand in your face. “Not hearing any of it” he says grabbing yours and leading you out of the kitchen, “…we’re going to take a walk and you’re going to meet some of your family.”

You knew there was no use arguing with him. The death grip he had on you meant that you couldn’t even try to make a dash for it. “Steve if she…” you add and he cuts you off. Third one in a row. This was getting ridiculous.

“Shh!” and that was final. He leads you into the giant library where that vapid painting by Albert Ryder still hung on the wall. You hated that massive eye sore and always wandered what Tony liked about it. You’d always pegged him for the colourful extravagant type and this painting was just so out of character.

“Sam! Look who’s here?” Steve’s voice bellows out interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes trail up the curving mahogany spiral stairs that Steve is looking at and onto another floor of bookcases that were bathed in sunlight pouring in through a round skylight on the ceiling.

“OMG Y/N?!” Sam almost shrieks as he bounds down the steps at a dangerous pace to collect you in a massive bear hug. “What are you doing here?!” he adds still crushing you in his arms.

“I came with the cupcakes…” you giggle as he picks you up and twirls you around. “Th-They brought me as their plus one.”

He puts you down to really look at you as if committing you to memory. A large smile sits on his face. “I see the sass is still there?”

“It never really left, big guy” you raise an eyebrow smirking as he hugs you one more time.

“Pleaseee tell me you’re here for the party?” he groans wrapping an arm around your shoulders looking at you hopefully. “Parties here have been so sad since you’ve been gone.”

You hum about to answer as out of nowhere two slender arms wrap around you. It knocks the wind out of you and you instinctively hug back letting the smell of cinnamon and spice invade your senses. “Wanda!” you yelp.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming” she squeals smacking you across the arm.

You giggle at her pout. “I didn’t know I was coming, malyshka.”

She grins at your use of the word. “Ok let’s go” she says to a chorus of groans.

“Excuse me! You are not taking her any where!” Sam blurts out grabbing your free hand.

“Sorry guys but I found her first” Steve adds standing in front of you and placing an authoritative hand on your shoulder his fingernails biting into the flesh there.

“Guys…” you cough nervously, “how about we take a walk…together” you say quietly and sigh in relief as everyone starts smiling and pestering you with questions again.

I guess nothing’s really changed after all.

---

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb @natasharomanoffismywife @imnotasuperhero @cybeleceto @silverwing2522 @thelastavenger-3000 @peggycarter-steverogers @rooskaya-yelena @blackwidowromonoff @lesbian-x-blackwidow @nowthisisliving27 @izalesbean @aaron-despair @marvelfansince08love @rileigh519 @wannabe-fic-reader @hcartbyheart @marvel-randomness @thewitchandtheassassin @username23345 @xixxiixx @rebeliz777 @summergeezburr @frostedfavesmain @higherfurther-romanova @sapphicluxanna

#oh #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #redfic

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exquisitley-obsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Cardinal Catastrophe

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: Elain reaches out to Azriel after that dreaded Solstice night and they once again meet under the moonlight in the River House - but everything is different now (post ACOSF, Azriel’s the focalizer)

Pairings: Azriel x Elain, Elriel

Word Count: 13,300+

Warnings: This does get a bit smutty and then there’s some violence towards the end.

A/N: This is like super long. It basically has everything it’s fluff, smut and angst so yeah, something for everyone. This is probably the longest oneshot I’ve ever written, I don’t know where this has come from but it’s taken me way longer to write than any of my other stuff. There’s a lot of catharsis in this and reflection on how I think both Azriel and Elain think of the situation. You’ll also get a bit of Rhys’ pov towards the ned ;)

Preview: With Elain’s eyes closed he allowed himself to greedily devour the sight of her. Just her face alone captured his attention entirely. With his eyes he memorised the curve of her cheekbones, the specific angle of her brows, even the exact chocolatey shade of her lashes. He went over it again, and again, and again, like a worshipper devouring the holy text. Azriel needed the perfection of Elain committed to memory, because he was sure that one day his luck would run out entirely. That soon he would not be permitted to even these meetings in the dead of night, with only a thousand stars as witness to their mutilated fate.

“Elain...” He tried again; his voice softer than he had ever heard it before. The person he became around Elain was foreign to himself. He had never been someone privileged enough to both love and be loved, not like this. Now that he had tasted such passions, he found he could not always recognise himself. Because he was Azriel, and he was cursed and damned, destined to be alone, to be unloved, mutilated both in mind and morality. He could not love; he shouldn’t be able to love - and yet.

MASTERLIST

It was no exaggeration to say that Azriel’s work was of a most gruesome nature. His daily routine involved cutting into people, making them sing to his shadows, working them like a carcass in a machine until they’d spilt their guts to him before painting the walls with those same organs. As the Night Court’s spymaster, Azriel knew things that would bring kings to their knees, secrets that were interwoven into the foundations of courts, hidden information that would dissolve alliances in seconds; and yet, here he was, pacing the room like a schoolboy as he tried to swallow the fluttery ‘butterfly-like’ feeling twisting his gut.

He’d noticed the note the minute he’d entered the room. A tiny slip of paper that glowed in the moonlight from where it was perched on his work desk, a stark contrast to Azriel’s messy, tea-stained paperwork. Azriel had smelt her on it before he read it, in fact, the second he opened the door to his River House bedroom he was surrounded by her faded aroma. She must’ve breezed in and out, not wanting to overstep her bounds as she left him a note no one else was to read. Knowing her, she was probably currently riddled with guilt for entering his private space, even though, quite frankly, Azriel wouldn’t mind her invading on every aspect of his life, personal or not. Not wanting to face what her scent in his room did to him, he’d crossed the room in three strides and devoured the note in seconds; the words still rang in his head.

I need to see you.

Everything had been fine. Ever since Rhysand’s outrageous demand of Azriel several months prior, Azriel had fallen into a routine, stricter than the last, for ignoring Elain Archeron. He was working more than he ever had before, not just in quantity but in quality. Unnecessarily detailed reports were showing up on the High Lord’s desk of situations that were entirely irrelevant to the current political climate and yet, Azriel thought it was only fair Rhysand suffered somewhat from this situation too.

I’m sorry for everything.

While he was anywhere but Velaris, Elain was never anywhere else, specifically in the River House, a place he had thus far avoided with painful success. Until his High Lady had demanded he come to dinner to celebrate Nesta’s birthday, Nesta who was happier than he had ever seen her before, practically glowing with the dreaded mating bond. It still baffled him how much prevalence mating bonds had played in his life the past few years after 500 years of silence, strings of fate which seemed to only bring about the greatest happiness or the wickedest pain.

I just want to make things right.

They were so happy, all of them. Rhysand with Feyre and Nyx, Nesta and Cassian - and though he just wanted to be glad for his family, the miasma of their bliss was suffocating. Because Azriel had never felt more alone, had never been so buried in his work, so achingly tired from the unnecessary flights and dreary missions, and his harmful behaviour was turning his body into something foreign. Azriel never used to have the constant tautness across his shoulders, nor the constant black shadows under his eyes from the sleepless nights, or the aching muscles that never seemed to heal. But it was necessary – if he wanted to obey Rhysand’s order, if he wanted to maintain civility between courts, and for a plethora of other supposed noble reasons – it was necessary.

I miss you.

He just wanted her. Not in any possessive way, he just wanted to be around her. He’d come to find a specific kind of peace in her company, something about that soothed his worries and aches. So, he missed their walks in the gardens, their shared book recommendations, their inside jokes, their unspoken understanding, their healing. And above all he missed her: her smile, her laughter, the shade of her flushed cheeks, her kindness, her silence.

Azriel hadn’t realised what had been happening to him as they had gotten closer, hadn’t realised how far he’d fallen till Rhysand had pulled him out of the air. Now all that was there, was a lacking. He was busier than ever, but all around him hung the privation of her.

Meet me in the foyer when the sun sets.

So he couldn’t be around his family, couldn’t face their overwhelming joy when he was so, so alone. Maybe it would’ve been better if he had never met Elain, or at least if he hadn’t allowed himself to fall for her. But in those soft moments he shared with her, the brushes of fingertips to the sun-kissed smiles, he’d been forced to face just how alone he was, how alone he had always been. Through Elain, Azriel had had a taste of honest, unwavering love - and yet he was expected to turn his back on such a discovery, by his own family no less.

Please.

He would meet her in the foyer when the sun set. He would follow her to the ends of the Earth if she asked him to, because maybe he was just so masochistic that he didn’t mind meeting Elain only to be reminded of everything he couldn’t have. Reading the note Azriel couldn’t help but think bitterly of how the flower-grower was far more courageous than he. That she was reaching out to him after he had rejected her so brutally. Azriel jolted, flaring his wings slightly to stop the train of thought. That pained, confused look in Elain’s eye when he had said that word, haunted him. Mistake. He’d called it a mistake. Azriel raked his hands down his face and sighed.

He wished he were strong enough to either commit or drop it entirely. He wished he had it in him to do something. Azriel should’ve bitten back at Rhysand all those months ago, should’ve just dealt with this catastrophe back then rather than let it fester and rot under the proverbial carpet.

As time passed in Azriel’s knotted thoughts, the sun plummeted towards the horizon. It was a perfect summers evening, and Azriel stilled at the window to watch as the sun melted the sky into shades of pink and purple. He saw it and thought of the colour of her dress tonight, or even that dress she had worn when she’d made traditional Illyrian biscuits and demanded he tried one. He’d taken it in his pocket and only took a bite when he was alone in the shadows of a different court, and he had savoured every bite, quietly smothering his growing adoration as he did so.

Elain, Elain, Elain. His shadows whispered to him, as though they knew they would soon be in her presence. No one had ever had such an effect on his shadows, and around her he was more aware of them being a separate entity to himself. Though they were bound, around Elain they seemed to grow more confident, they acted of their own accord and would often disappear in her presence, as though his shadows knew he wished to be entirely alone with her.

Foyer...Elain...flower-grower...beautiful. Azriel was inclined to agree. And before Azriel could lose himself to shyness, the sun finally dipped behind the curve of the land, allowing a thousand glimmering stars to prickle through the endless black sky.

She would already be waiting for him, and though Azriel was nervous, he had to restrain some part of himself that longed to throw open the door and jump down the stairs two at a time. Instead, he used the shadows, stepping through them to the base of the large foyer staircase. It would be more silent this way. He wouldn’t make the same mistake of not listening to the corridors as they spoke. For Elain’s sake, he would demand the utmost privacy, even from his High Lord and Lady.

He could see her before she saw him. She was leaning of the Foyer’s centre table, fiddling with the bouquet of flowers in a glass vase - of course she was. All he could see of her was the lower half of her pale gown and her dark golden hair, cascading down her back like a waterfall. The moonlight streaming in through the large French windows gave her an angelic glow, whereas the more sensuous light of the flickering candles painted shadows across her thinly veiled curves. Both warm and cold light coming together to worship the woman who seemed to him as light herself. At the sight of her, Azriel involuntarily sucked in a breath and felt her scent hit the back of his throat, his entire body seemed to sing from her aroma alone, as though it were his own personal drug. Dangerous, this was dangerous, to be with her and to be so alone. He didn’t care.

“Elain,” she didn’t start as he spoke into the thick silence. If she had the confidence to call him here tonight, then he must source some of his own. He at least owed her that. Delicately, Elain turned and looked over her shoulder, her beautiful brown eyes finding his and melting the whole world away.

“You came,” She breathed, her shoulders sagging slightly out of relief. She turned to him properly then, and Azriel flickered his eyes over her so quickly she might’ve mistaken it for a mere blink. But he saw her, saw what she was wearing, and some core part of his soul longed to weep at the sight of her beauty.

Elain was in a nightgown, off-white cotton and silk, with cream and dusty pink lace. Pale ribbons pulled the nightdress around her breasts and down to her naval, dipping in a slight ‘v’ before the skirts flowed around her natural curves and then dropped to the floor. The neckline was agonisingly flattering, though Azriel was sure he wouldn’t look twice at the nightdress on anyone else. Her creamy skin seemed browner in the warm candlelight of the house, and as the shadows flickered, he was aware of how her collarbones stretched out to the curve of her shoulders, how she didn’t have freckles on her chest and arms but rather a specific constellation of moles, even how her hair was impossibly thick and, if memory served him well, soft too. Upper sections were pulled away from her face in an intricate pattern of braids and ties, and yet lock after lock of pale brown hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders, framing her angelic face. Oh, that face. Poets and painters alike would weep at the sight of that face. The small, angled eyebrows that somehow made her doe eyes bigger, the freckles across her cheeks and nose, her plush lips-

“I know that you’re avoiding me,” she began, crashing Azriel back into reality. He shifted slightly, ruffling his wings as though to wake himself up. Her voice wasn’t accusing, but calm and quiet, “I know there’s a reason why you’re never around. For a while I thought you were just cooped up at the House of Wind but Nesta says that she never sees you...no one ever sees you anymore.” Azriel stayed quiet, just holding her gaze. He never needed to speak around Elain, she had quickly understood that when he had something to say, he would say it, but till then, he was comforted by the silence. And so she continued, more nervous now.

“I don’t want to be...narcissistic...but it seems to me that you’ve been distancing yourself with everyone after what happened on Solstice and...” She shifted uncomfortably, her confidence running out as she looked down at the floor and wrung her hands. “I can’t take it. I can’t take being the person whose pushed you away and I...I think we need to talk about it - or not talk about it - I’m not sure. I just, I don’t want you to avoid me anymore, even if that means we pretend that it never happened, that’s fine. I just...”

He could tell her right now the exact reason why he couldn’t be around her. Elain, he would say, I would do anything to be around you. I would kill a thousand men just to have the privilege of your company. But I can’t, Elain. Because when I’m around you, everything turns inside out, I forget everything I’m supposed to be afraid of. I become this person around you Elain, I become someone who I’ve always wanted to be, and I don’t know how to be him, if I even can. I’m not used to this, to wanting something so viscerally it feels as though I might fall apart every day I don’t see you. Elain, I don’t know how to choose happiness, I don’t know how to be selfish in that way, and above all...I don’t know how to fix this.

“I don’t care if you don’t want me like that, not if it comes at the price of your friendship. I still...need you in my life, Az,” Elain was whispering now, her large eyes slightly glassy in the candlelight.

Azriel couldn’t help but think that Elain was evidentially stronger than him, that she could still want to be around him even if he supposedly didn’t want her. If the roles were reversed, if it had been Elain who had pushed him away, he was pretty certain he would’ve manipulated his work to make him leave the Night Court for at least several years. Of course, she was stronger than him, he was beginning to think she was stronger than them all, because of this exact trait of hers - forgiveness.

“Please...say something,” Elain’s broken voice rose through the silence. She looked at him again, tears threatening to spill. Her looking at him in such a way made something deep in his chest twist, and twist and keep on twisting.

He didn’t know what to do, so he took a step forward, and another and another, until he was a foot’s distance away from her. The whole time her eyes never left his, her hands still twisting together at the front of her beautiful, beautiful dress. He opened his mouth to speak but once again Elain had rendered him speechless. Where could he begin, how could he begin - how could he fix this?

“Elain...” was all he managed in the end, but that seemed to be enough to soothe her as her eyes fluttered shut and she breathed deeply at the sound of her name mingled with his breath.

With Elain’s eyes closed he allowed himself to greedily devour the sight of her. Just her face alone captured his attention entirely. With his eyes he memorised the curve of her cheekbones, the specific angle of her brows, even the exact chocolatey shade of her lashes. He went over it again, and again, and again, like a worshipper devouring the holy text. Azriel needed the perfection of Elain committed to memory, because he was sure that one day his luck would run out entirely. That soon he would not be permitted to even these meetings in the dead of night, with only a thousand stars as witness to their mutilated fate.

“I’m sorry,” He began, his voice barely audible. And by the way Elain’s brows furrowed slightly and her mouth tightened, he knew that she knew he was talking about the last time they’d been here, in this foyer. “I wish things were different,” He whispered, now trying to memorise the exact constellations of her freckles.

“Me too,” She breathed, her eyes still closed. “I wish I was different,” She surprised him by whispering.

“Don’t...” He murmured, silently stunned, “You...you don’t know how you...” But he had to stop himself mid-sentence, had to bite his tongue between his teeth hard enough to draw blood. Because if he started to talk, he wouldn’t stop. He would tell her everything, and he wasn’t quite ready to be so vulnerable, not when he didn’t know how to be vulnerable at all.

“I...” She opened her eyes and seemed to look at him as though for the first time. After a long pause she spoke again, “I wish I had courage.”

“Courage?” Elain paused and shifted slightly from foot to foot, as though she were debating what she would say next.

“I want to be strong, like my sisters...I want to etch out my own path rather than fumble in the dark.” Azriel thought for a moment.

“You are strong, whether you perceive yourself to be or not.” He wanted nothing more than to reach up and stroke his hand along her smooth cheek, instead he dug his nails into his already marred palm and focused on the pain’s bite.

“I will never be a general,” Elain whispered, her eyes still damp, “I will never be a High Lady or a leader, I don’t care for any of that...I wish I did. You can’t imagine how badly I wish I...” Her words ran out and her eyes became slightly glossed over and detached. Again, he felt the urge to touch her, to ground her back in reality, but he just dug his nails in deeper. “I don’t belong on battlefields, though I’d always fight when the world needed me but...I’m not a warrior; and that petrifies me.”

Again, Azriel paused, taking time to absorb every word Elain offered to him under the moonlight. Azriel adored Elain, he could’ve stood there for an hour and listed everything about her that had brought him hope. How her outlook on life had been so foreign to him, so unrealistic when he first met her, that it was extraordinary now just how jealous he was of her ability to look at the morbidity of the world, and still seek out the good.

“In a world of endless bloodshed and bitterness, do not be ashamed of not wanting to be a warrior,” Azriel whispered.

“But I’m useless,” Elain quickly interjected, “I have all this power, I feel it stirring in me and there is no part of me that wishes to manipulate it or-or exploit it.” Elain’s hands came up and danced in the air as she spoke, another quirk of hers he’d both memorised and adored. Azriel thought again, long and hard, before he spoke.

“I’ve been around a lot longer than you, and from what I’ve learnt of people is...that they’re horrible,” Azriel watched as Elain’s eyes widened and drank in his words and something twisted in his chest. People didn’t look at him like that when he talked. His brothers would wink and laugh with him, his enemies cowered and flinched, those whom he bedded would smile slyly or watch his mouth as he murmured dirty things in the dead of night. But no one looked at him like that, as though he were reciting poetry, as though he were beautiful enough to say something worthy of those big eyes and parted lips.

“You wouldn’t believe the horrors I’ve seen, or the court secrets I’ve uncovered. The way people, particular those in positions of power, treat each other, treat those around them and those below them - it’s tragic. It’s merciless and cruel.” Elain was still drinking him in, still hanging onto his every word.

“I think over the centuries, I myself became desensitised to the horrors of power and politics. Especially given my start in life. When you were human I understood your naivety, your belief in the good of the world, especially after your riches had returned and your life was content.

“But what I didn’t understand was how you continued to believe good after everything you went through. After facing the most brutal torture from the Cauldron itself...you still chose to believe in the wonderful and I-I didn’t understand that. Because I couldn’t do that. Because I’d never believed in the good of people the way you do...I had never even believed in the good of myself.

“Please don’t think that kindness is something small, or something that can be overlooked. Because when the world is little more than ruin and rubble, kindness is all we have left. We’ve just been alive so long that we forget about it, us Fae, we’ve spent so much of our lives at war that it’s easy to forget why we’d even engage in such bloodshed. It wasn’t till I met you that I was reminded that such things as tenderness and humanity even existed outside my family, and once the wars were about defending those virtues rather than snuffing them out…I just, I can’t help but think that if there were more people like you in the world, maybe Prythian wouldn’t succumb to carnage every few decades, just so that the heartless noblemen of this land can feel something.”

Azriel hadn’t meant to speak for so long, in fact, he didn’t quite understand where the words had even come from. They were true, of course. He did whole-heartedly believe everything he had just said, he just hadn’t realised how much he’d ached to say it aloud. Elain was still staring at him wide-eyed, and then there was the worst thing of all, a single tear spilling over her damp eyes and trickling down her cheek.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Elain whispered, suddenly reaching out and sliding her palm into his from where it was hanging limp at his side. Electricity shot through his arm, and he forced himself to look at her in the eye as he tensed his legs so that they didn’t crumple underneath him. “No, it’s good I’m, I’m glad you said it I...”

But again, words seemed to evade Elain as she looked up at him. Azriel was now hyperaware of her how close she was, of her smooth palm that fit so nicely in his own. His body often reacted on its own accord around Elain, and he had spent months leashing his desires into chains, beasts that could only come out in the dead of night. But since that dreaded Solstice night last winter, everything had changed.

Life these past few months had consisted of the battle between two extremes. Either he was drowning in the way his body seemed to ache and beg for her, his mind obsessing over their stuttering relationship as though it were a philosophical debate. Especially since he now knew that some part of her wanted him and had wanted to kiss him even with her mate sleeping upstairs. The fact that he now knew what her scent tasted like, how her voice sounded when it was breathy and desperate - it all fuelled the fantasies that haunted him the moment he made it back to his room. He could be on the other side of Prythian and somehow the presence of Elain Archeron would find a way to him.

The other extreme was complete and total deprivation. The reality that he hadn’t seen her for months, that she would soon exist more in memory than experience. Even though his fantasies of her were so visceral, so tangible, the reality that she was not in the room with him always came crashing down by the time his head had cleared - and then he’d feel more alone than ever before.

But when he was here, with her, the argument ceased. The torture and the pain, the writhing mind and aching debates, it all fell into beautiful silence. And so, looking at her now, he was unable to help himself. And without thought, he reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as he murmured under his breath, no more than a whisper, “Elain Archeron...saviour of the cursed and damned...”

As Azriel’s fingers grazed Elain’s cheek, a horribly confused and upset look twisted her face. She seemed to freeze at the contact and Azriel halted at her discomfort, internally berated himself for pushing her too far, for being so arrogant in thinking he could touch her in such a way.

“I...Azriel...I don’t understand,” Elain’s breathless voice seemed to caress him, and once more he found himself tensing his legs so that they wouldn’t give out under him. “You don’t want me...you said it was a mistake...” Azriel stilled, and he caught her eye in a moment of alarmed sobriety.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

He couldn’t stop the words before they spilled from his lips. It didn’t matter how soft, how quiet, his voice was, the words were innately harsh and something deep against his spine lurched at the thought of her hurting her - of hurting her again.

But Elain didn’t flinch. Her eyes, instead of widening in shock, stayed stoically still and calm. And then Azriel watched as those honeyed eyes he loved so much lapsed darker and darker, the floral musk of her arousal drifting to him like a moth to a flame, the same scent he’d been dreaming of for months, the memory of it alone making his body achingly hard and taut, as though his own skin existed only to respond to the call of hers.

The scent surrounded him, sending blood to his cock which was now throbbing viscerally against the seams of his leathers. His arousal had never felt so tight before, so extreme and sudden. He felt it, heavy in his lower abdomen, twisting and knotting his guts in both pain and pleasure. That was familiar, that he’d felt a hundred times before, but for Elain Acheron his whole body seemed to sing. His blood burned under his skin as it pounded through his body, whilst his heart was light and fluttery in his chest, as though it might edge up his throat and fall from his lips. His eyes felt heavy lidded as though he were drunk, and even though he were standing stoically still, even though he hadn’t done anything yet, he found himself short of breath.

He had never wanted something more - never. Not Mor. Not a job. Not a secret, not information. Not salvation, not mercy. God, it seemed as though in this instant, Elain had invented want for him.

He would beg for her. Right now, in the foyer where he’d first tasted this personal drug. Had Elain not been holding him up by her eyes and a single palm he would already be on his knees. He moved to fall down before her, like a worshipper at a temple, when movement at her mouth caught his eye. Azriel watched as her delicate, pink tongue slowly dragged along her lower lip to wet it as she blinked innocently at him. Azriel’s resolve was gone in a puff of smoke.

Fuck Rhysand. Fuck Lucien. Fuck the Mother, the Cauldron, the world. Fuck anyone who stood between him and Elain who he knew, he knew, wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Because of course she did. Because whatever this was, whatever was happening between them, was otherworldly and impossible to ignore.

And good luck to them, was the last though Azriel had before he leaned in. Good luck to anyone who ever dare stand between him and her, because he’d kill them - he’d fucking kill them.

Despite his body beating like a drum for Elain’s melody, he did not kiss her right away. Once he’d accepted that he would kiss her, once he’d come to that inevitable conclusion it felt like a thousand doors of golden light opened before his eyes, and it took everything he had to not sob with joy.

All those fantasies he had revelled in for the past year that had been shrouded in a miasma of fantasy and shame, rolled through his mind clear as day. He could kiss her lips. Those soft pads of blushing rose that he had already committed to memory. Or he could trace down and press his lips to the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder, a crook of intimacy that he’d already figured out from watching her protect it with her hands when someone stood behind her. He could kiss her temples, her cheeks, her throat - every fucking inch of her.

Now that his resolve had snapped like an elastic band stretched too far, he found that he was finally free. Looking at her he hadn’t realised how long he had taken, how slowly he was leaning in until Elain’s fingers suddenly gripped the leathers across his chest and her brows furrowed as she pulled closer to him, her eyes dark and desperate, her mouth wet and parted as she half-gasped, half-whispered, “Please....Azriel...”

He did moan then. A low, throaty sound that escaped him at the sound of his name intertwined with her breathy gasps. He snapped.

He had intended to savour every second of kissing her, but the moment his lips touched hers, he felt fire. Elain’s hands ran up his chest before intertwining themselves in his hair as she pulled herself against him and he moaned again, the second time in a minute, into her mouth. Because he could feel her, all of her, pressed against his hot throbbing body. The soft pressure of her breasts, the bones of her hips, even one of her legs had tucked between his own, the sides of their knees brushing together. She was going to kill him. She was going to fucking kill him.

And then there was her mouth. Softer than petals, and so obviously hers in taste and touch. Every time their lips brushed, every time he felt her perfect breath mingling with his own, shivers erupted across his body. Unable to stop himself he brushed back her hair before firmly grasping the side of her neck, his hand was so large against her velvet skin that he knew he could probably hold her entire throat in one hand. He put it there as an ode to the last time he’d been here. He’d put it there as a fuck you to fate.

His other hand curled around her waist and pressed against her back where - and he moaned again - Elain’s exposed skin greeted him.

He wanted to take her right her. Wanted to lie her down on the carpet and bury his head between her thighs as he had done so many times before in his fantasies. How he ached to taste her, all of her, to pin her writhing thighs back with one hand and wrists with the other. He wanted to look at her perfect angelic face as he made her sing sinful sounds for him. Wanted to make her toes curl and back arch as she came on his tongue. Again, and again, and again.

Elain tugged slightly on Azriel’s hair and he was thrust back into his body, back into the present, and he had to stifle another moan because those thousands of fantasies had nothing, nothing, on this.

In response to Elain’s needy tug, Azriel bent slightly and curled a hand around the back of each of her thighs and hoisted her up against his chest. Elain, much to his delight, snapped her legs around him as he lifted her against his chest, their lips still ferociously dancing. He only had to walk a few paces to set her against the edge of the lobby table, but that particular move was one that had been haunting him more recently of late.

He went to pull away after she was set down on the wooden tabletop. He wanted to see her, with her hair ruffled and her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen and her chest heaving. He wanted to commit that image to memory because there was still some part of him that could not believe this was real.

But as he moved to step back, Elain caught him off guard as her legs tightened from where they were wrapped around his hips, something of a growl arising from the back of her throat as she fisted his leathers and pulled him against her. Azriel obeyed her, like a puppy on a leash, leaning his hands against the table, either side of her hips, in order to stay standing.

She was flushed against him once more. Her breasts pushed against his chest which felt suffocated by the Illyrian leathers, he ached to have her skin brushing against his own, but all in good time. He slipped his tongue into her mouth then and revelled in the juxtaposing thrill and relaxation of exploring her in this way. But there was still an inch of space between their hips. He didn’t know why he left it there, even when Elain dragged him against her, perhaps it was because he knew the minute they were aligned in cardinal perfection, there would be no turning back. He would be hers and vice versa, and she would be his muse and his priority, and he would put her before everything - even his High Lord.

To steady himself, Azriel made the mistake of taking his hand and bracing himself on Elain’s thigh. What he was not expecting was for his palm to find the soft, exposed flesh of her leg from where her dress must’ve mischievously ridden upwards when he had lifted her.

Purely on instinct, Azriel moaned and drove his hips forward into her core, earning a breathy sigh from them both as they finally found an inch of friction in their writhing. There was only fabric now. Measly layers of fabric that came between them.

“Fuck...” Elain gasped into his mouth and some outrageously animalistic part of him growled in satisfaction at having pulled a sinful swear from her angelic mouth. Azriel kept one hand against the wood near her hips to stay steady, to stop himself from grounding his hips into her like an uncontrollable beast, the other stayed on the warm, smooth flesh of her exposed thigh.

Slowly, he began to trace rough circles with his thumb on her inner thigh earning a flutter of breathy sighs to dance from her lips which pleased his soul to no avail. Azriel parted from her lips and began to pepper kisses along her jawline as he torturously inched his thumb up, inch by inch with each circle. When Azriel began to kiss and suck on the spot just below her ear he allowed himself to peek at her as he worked.

Her head was tilted back slightly, her throat bobbing as high hums fluttered from her. If he could paint he would paint the perfect blush of her swollen lips. If he were a poet he would turn her breathy moans into the sweetest of sonnets. And then she tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth as a soft moan escaped her and he had to look away, if only to stop himself from reaching down and fisting himself at the sight of it.

With his head turned Azriel hissed out of surprise as his thumb rubbed against a sticky sweetness coating her inner thigh. God she was wet. And as he rubbed further, coating his thumb in her essence, he had to bite his cheek as to not come in his pants like a schoolboy. Azriel stopped rubbing circles in favour for taking his first finger and tracing back and forth over the highest point of her thigh, slow and torturous as he familiarised himself with the feel of her. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest when his fingers brushed against a lacy frill at the apex of her thigh. Tilting his head Azriel was able to husk into her ear.

“What do you want Elain?” His voice was low and breathy before he caught her lobe between his teeth. Another shuddering gasp floated from her lips.

“I want you to touch me...and I don’t want you stop,” the sound of her voice so mingled with pleasure and need was almost enough to undo him. “Ever,” She went on, “Not until I don’t know my own name.”

She was going to kill him. Growling in satisfaction he rewarded her answer with one quick brush over her lace underthing's, the touch was like electricity for them both. Elain physically tremored as Azriel finally brushed where she needed him most, and Azriel shuddered at the contact with the girl of his dreams.

“Please, Azriel,” Azriel stilled for a moment, wondering how she would react to his instinctual next move. His particular flavour of making love.

“Say that again,” He said slowly, his voice barely more than a brutal, low husk. As he spoke Azriel allowed some of his power to ebb into the words, the siphons a top his hands guttering as they came to life. It felt slightly wrong to use such a voice on her, the one he so often used with enemies, but Azriel watched as Elain’s lips parted, her pupils expanding as her breath grew heavy in response to his dominant voice. Oh, Azriel couldn’t help but think in agonising awe. Maybe his deep assumptions, the ones that only haunted him in that void he entered before he fell asleep, were true. That Elain, the purest of sisters, was also the filthiest.

“Please, Az,” Her voice was breathy and pleading, but there was something alight in her eyes as she begged him.

“Good girl,” Azriel couldn’t stop himself from husking as he peeled back the top of the lace. They both stared unwaveringly into each other’s eyes as Azriel dipped his hands along her, not touching just hovering. He held his hand there, an inch away from where she needed him most, waiting until she almost whimpered before he slid a single finger slowly through her folds.

Her reaction was blissful to see. The way she bit her lip, her back arched, and her eyes fluttered shut. Azriel moved with her, his own mouth parted, and brows furrowed as he stroked her again.

“Don’t close your eyes,” He murmured in his voice of steel, “Look at me.” Elain’s eyes snapped open, and it was his turn to be caught off guard. Gone was the hazelnut colour, even the sensuous black he had somehow lulled them into, what met him was the colour of bright honey and her eyes, they were glowing. They stood out like gemstones being pierced by golden light. It was then that Azriel began to take note of their surroundings and realise that the thrumming was not just happening inside him but all around him. Ripple after ripple of raw, ancient power was bleeding from Elain, fizzing into the air and turning the entire foyer into something alive and electric. A shiver ran along Azriel’s entire body as his own powers itched to sing in harmony with hers; cobalt energy rising to meet her golden light.

Her folds were dripping, and he was having an internal debate on whether or not to rip off her underwear. On one hand he would have better access, he would be able to pleasure her better, and he could even push her back against the table and lower his head and taste her. On the other, he couldn’t stand being disconnected from her for a second.

Whilst he debated, he slowly raked his finger up her again before finding that small bundle of nerves. When he caught it with his fingertip and began to drag slow, luxurious circles over it, a throaty, guttural moan escaped her lips. He bit his cheek again. He wondered if anyone had fucked her like this and again, that pride bloomed when he realised that he might be the first. Not her first, but the first person to show her the true ecstasy of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Elain gasped as her head fell forward on his shoulder. Azriel allowed the eye contact to break, too absorbed by the feeling of having Elain writhing under his fingers to care.

He’d always thought that he could die a happy man if ever he was blessed enough to experience such a joy as Elain Archeron, but now he realised what a stupid notion that was. Because Elain wasn’t cause for death but cause for life. He’d live for Elain, Azriel realised. Elain who was writhing and mewling into his shoulder as he slowly brought her to the ecstasy she deserved. She was close and following this he would winnow them away to either his unused apartment in central Velaris, or deep in the gardens on this summer night, where they would be entirely alone, and everything would be perfect. And once they’d had their fill on the pure bliss of one another they could talk about everything, and they’d find a solution and they’d work it out, and everything would be okay - and then Rhysand walked in, and everything came crashing down.

Some part of Azriel’s hazy mind had been aware of the movement deep in the house but it had been so, so inconsequential compared to what was in front of him. And his shadows, well his shadows were nowhere to be seen, not with golden light quite literally thrumming from Elain. There had been no warning, and as Rhys met Azriel’s eye when he still had his fingers flush against Elain some primal part of Azriel reared its head.

In an instant Azriel’s siphons were spluttering to life as power surged through Azriel, his wings instinctively flaring as wide as they would stretch, so that the cresting talon of each wing scraped into the polished walls. Rhys, who was standing at the edge of the foyer, an unrecognisable expression scorched into his face, was a threat at that moment, and the whole world seemed to still as Azriel slowly came down from the high of his arousal.

Slowly, Azriel removed his hand from Elain’s underwear and smoothed down her skirts to cover her legs, all the while never moving his eyes from Rhys. He didn’t care if he was in for the doghouse, didn’t give a shit about what consequences his happiness had just induced - Elain came first.

And right now, even though it was a ludicrous thought, Azriel was preparing himself to protect Elain from Rhysand. Elain’s whose nightgown had slipped down her shoulder, whose eyes were wide as she glanced over her shoulder at her brother-in-law, exposed and vulnerable just as she’d been on the worst night of her life.

“Azriel,” Rhysand finally spoke and Azriel shifted slightly to pull Elain closer to his chest. “My office...now.” It seemed as though all sense of formality had dropped as Rhysand’s High Lord voice billowed into the room. Azriel didn’t speak, didn’t move either, just shifted his eyes to Elain whose face was blanch and confused.

“Can’t this wait?” Azriel asked, his voice low and full of strength. Instantly he realised that he should’ve worded his question better. He didn’t want time in order to finish off what he and Elain had begun, but rather to give Elain a moment to breathe, for her to fix her dress and smooth her hair, for her to do whatever she needed to do before she was forced to face her family. Rhysand’s eyes darkened, and he entered the room in a low stride, both hands digging deep into his pockets. Azriel moved instantly, stepping around Elain to put himself in front of her as Rhysand approached.

Without a word Rhysand came closer and closer, and Azriel continued to stretch his wings to cover Elain from whatever vitriol was about to be thrown his way. But Rhysand didn’t say anything, he didn’t even move suddenly, just reached out a single hand until it was barely touching Azriel’s arm as darkness surrounded them both.

Before Azriel even had a chance to realise that Rhysand was winnowing them away – away from Elain – they were standing in his office, and Azriel couldn’t help but shake his head at the slight Deja-vu of the whole situation. Except this time, he wouldn’t be bounding himself in shackles, he’d be setting himself free, whether Rhys wanted him to or not.

Azriel was standing in front of the large mahogany desk of Rhysand’s office whilst it’s owner moved behind it, one hand still in his pocket. Already the air in the room was taut with energy, as though the very air were cowering in the face of the upcoming argument. And still Azriel’s mind was still thinking of the girl in the foyer, her name like a mantra beating through his body,

“Put your cock away Azriel,” Rhys immediately spat in response to the ripples of cobalt energy rippling from Azriel’s form. Azriel didn’t deem the childish comment with a retort, though his arousal was already gone, and quickly replaced by the tautness of anger and frustration. His shadows had returned to him now that he was away from Elain, and they were writhing uncontrollably around his legs and back.

Azriel stayed standing, folding his arms over his chest just for something to do. It was then that Rhys sighed heavily, leaning against his desk and hanging his head. He wasn’t as tired nor as desperate as when they’d last spoken like this - of this. No, now Rhys had everything. Everything he had ever, and could ever want, and now his fight lay in protecting the paradise he had found in Feyre and Nyx. Whilst Azriel was still in the dark, still alone, still secretly in agony - they were not the same.

“I gave you the simplest of orders,” Rhys sighed like a disappointed father and something brutally aggressive awoke in Azriel. How dare he, how dare Rhys speak to him like that?

“I know,” Azriel said, his voice indiscernible and calm. Rhys swung his head up to glare at Azriel, something emotional lingering in his violet eyes.

“You know? Then, Azriel, why did you take it upon yourself to disobey me?” Azriel’s grip on his biceps tightened.

“Elain is...” Azriel began before he had to lower his eyes. What was Elain? How could he explain to Rhys the inexplicable way he felt about the angelic gardener? The effect she had on him, it was both irrational and yet made perfect sense. And right now, he could barely focus with knowing that somewhere in this house she was looking around confused, wondering what the hell had just happened. “She’s important to me. More than you realise.”

“She has a mate.”

“That is irrelevant-”

“Irrelevant?” Rhysand looked as though he might laugh and Azriel once more gripped his arms tight enough to bruise. “I thought I made it perfectly clear to you Azriel that the bond between Elain and Lucien-” Azriel growled at his name, Rhys ignored him, “-is paramount to the civility between us and not just the Autumn Court, not just the Spring Court or the Day Court, but also the Band of Exiles and the Human realms.”

“And have you ever wondered if maybe Elain deserves better?”

“Better than Lucien-” Rhys practically squawked.

“No,” Azriel growled, allowing his anger to show, “Better than us. Better than a family who reduce her to little more than a political pawn-”

“She is my sister,” Rhysand spat, standing up straight with a newfound intensity. “Don’t you dare question my treatment of her, don’t you dare suggest I don’t care for her.”

“Are you truly so out of touch that you do not see the shackles you’ve tied around her wrists?” Azriel uncurled his arms, “You’ve stripped her of any choice-”

“This is not about choice!”

“This has everything to do with choice!”

“Elain is a valued member of my family but also of my court. As her High Lord, I have made a difficult decision but one that will undoubtedly strengthen this us in the now impending war. It was a tough decision and if you want me to be the bad guy, fine, I’ll be the bad guy, but you will obey my orders as this is the best choice for Elain.”

“Then why don’t you ask her,” Azriel growled, grappling with the internal leash on his powers, “Why don’t you actually include her in the decisions you’ve made about her life.”

“I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” Rhys flicked invisible lint from his suit, “But Elain is a valued member of these discussions.”

“Then why isn’t she here?” Azriel husked quietly, full of venom. Rhysand apparently didn’t have anything to say to that, so Azriel went on. “You claim to value choice Rhysand, and yet you’ve stripped Elain of not just her own volition, but the simple knowledge of the choices made about her life.”

There was something bitter clanging through Azriel as he spat the words, he knew what it was, it was a word - hypocrite. Because whilst Azriel was fighting for Elain, really he should be allowing for Elain to fight for herself. He should’ve left the office the minute Rhysand winnowed them and searched for Elain. He should’ve told her, all those months ago, about why he could no longer be around her. And that’s why Elain deserved better, better than Rhys and better than him, because even now they talked of her rather than with her.

“You are to stay away from her,” Rhysand said at last, glaring out the study’s window almost as though he was ignoring Azriel.

“I can’t do that. Not anymore,” Azriel husked, and Rhys paused, catching Azriel’s eye before he hastily looked to the side and raked a hand through his hair.

“I told you, Azriel. I told you to stay away from Ly-” Both Azriel and Rhys’ eyes widened at the name that nearly fell from Rhysand’s lips. A revelation occurring to them both as the name Rhys’ long deceased sister was brought into the room. “Elain,” Rhys corrected himself, acting unbothered by his slip. “I told you stay away.”

Azriel didn’t know how to respond. He’d spend hours in training rings, on long haul flights or espionage ventures thinking of this specific argument. The way he’d tell Rhys all the things he should’ve said on that Solstice night, about the disservice they were both doing to Elain, about how it was outrageous of Rhys to demand Azriel put politics before his happiness after, well, everything.

After Azriel had spent 500 years alone with only a doomed infatuation with a woman who would never love him back. After Azriel had always favoured to be alone, to suffer in silence, to take the blame, and now he finally had an out. After Azriel had to put up with both his brothers finding their perfect happiness, Rhys himself almost starting a war by perusing and protecting Feyre.

Why was it so different for him? Why was it the moment Azriel had happiness within an arm’s reach there were a thousand excuses for him not to have it? What was so poisonous about his desires? About him?

“She’s not Lydia,” Azriel said at last. It was a low blow. Especially since Rhys had so clearly tried to cover up his slip a moment ago. “For one, you would never treat Lydia with such little respect. Elain is her own person and I’m not going to fight with you, or Lucien, or anyone for that matter like she’s some kind of prize.”

This argument was too real. Of course, they’d had arguments before, all three of them had. Azriel could remember a particularly nasty one between Cassian and Rhys where they hadn’t spoken for a year, Azriel bouncing between them like an owl. But this wasn’t a brotherly squabble, not when the stakes were so high.

Rhys sighed, still not meeting Azriel’s eye as a muscle in his jaw ticked. It seemed as though the High Lord also understood the irregularity of the dispute, or maybe he was just furious at facing his own errors, at his spymaster criticising him on failing someone so important on a matter which Rhysand prided himself on - the volition of the women in his life. After what happened with his mother and his sister, to find out he was now failing his new family must be driving him mad.

“You just can’t keep it in your pants can you Azriel?”

It may have been less shocking if Rhys had just leaned over and stabbed Azriel in the gut. His words clanged into the air with a sour metallic taste, and for a moment Azriel lost his breath, his jaw slackening as his shock registered before he could swiftly cover the expression with the mask of steel he’d perfected. The silence following the comment was perhaps worse than the blow itself. Now it was Azriel who couldn’t stand looking at his brother. He didn’t care if Rhys looked apologetic, didn’t care for him at all.

“Do you really think so low of me?” Azriel’s voice was deathly quiet, before he finally shifted his eyes up to see the raw regret plastered on his brothers face.

“No, I-” A vicious knock came at the door then, interrupting whatever apology Rhys was going to throw his way.

“Open the door,” Came Elain’s voice, more brutal than he’d ever heard it before. Something electric shot through Azriel at the sound of it, of her. If anything, her voice was a reminder that this was real, that his hair was tousled, and lips swollen because of Elain-fucking-Archeron.

Rhys didn’t move for the door, so Azriel did. Turning around, he walked the length of Rhys’ office to the large double oak doors and pulled one back without hesitation. He knew she deserved to be here, that she should’ve been here from the start.

Azriel was so set on opening the door for the sake of justice and fairness that he momentarily forget that it was Elain on the other side, and the sight of her made his breath stop in his throat. Her hair was still ruffled from where he had raked his hands through it, and her lips still blushed from where he had tugged on them with his teeth. There was also a faint flush of her cheeks, either from their previous activities or from running through the River House searching for him and his brother.

Something electric and charged ran the entire length of his body at the sight of her - not arousal, something deeper. And by the way her glowing eyes drank him in, he knew she felt it too. Azriel stepped aside and let her pass into the office and walk up to Rhysand’s desk. As he followed her, something bitter twisted in his gut - whatever was blooming between himself and the gardener was a thing to celebrate. Such love, light and warmth in his life which had thus far consisted of cold loneliness was a joyous and wonderful thing. And yet he was made to feel ashamed of his happiness, by his brother. His own damn brother.

“What’s going on?” Elain spoke in her traditionally soft voice, but even Rhys must’ve picked up and the unwavering steel that seeped from her tone, so similar to Nesta’s pitch.

“Nothing, Elain. Just a dispute between myself and Azriel. It’s nothing you need concern yourself with,” Rhysand’s easy smile warmed through his cheeks and Azriel was sure he was going to punch him before the night was out.

“Don’t lie to me Rhysand, it’s not a good look for a High Lord,” Elain spoke smoothly, folding her arms over her chest as Azriel had done moments ago. Rhys’ expression only flickered in response. “Now, what’s going on?” Elain asked again.

“Well,” Rhysand began, “Me and Azriel have been discussing you actually, you see, your bond with Lucien is unfortunately paramount to a lot of peace and unity between our court and others.” Rhysand looked blankly at Evie as he spoke, completely dethatched from the emotional anger he’d unleashed on Azriel moments ago.

“Is this about me breaking the bond?” Elain said, her voice smooth like honey, healing the sparking energy in the room as Azriel and Rhysand had geared up for a fight. Something about the question twisted Azriel’s guts. It was her terminology; it was all wrong. There was no such thing as breaking a bond, one could reject it and render the attachment limp and lifeless, but breaking a bond was only achieved in death, and even then some believe the bond to continue in the next life. It was just a reminder that Elain knew nothing about this world, Lucien had placed the acceptance or rejection of the bond in her hands, but she did not even know what either option would truly entail. Her education, it was another thing they’d all failed her on.

“If you wish to reject your bond with Lucien I, nor anyone in this court, will prevent you from doing so,” Rhysand said smoothly, “However, given the current political climate, I must say it would be best to leave this till after the war.” Elain did not look away as she thought.

“I don’t want the bond,”

“That’s perfectly okay-”

“No,” Elain interrupted, “I don’t want the bond at all. I don’t want to have to accept or reject anything - I just don’t want it...you....you don’t know what it’s like, to be pulled apart limb by limb, and be remade against your will, to find yourself destroyed and then re-crafted by something as unapologetic as the Cauldron itself. I was violated to the most extravagant degree and when I finally came around, when I finally managed to find something recognisable in myself, months after that night, I came around to find that I had been reduced to some ancient claim a stranger possessed over me. You are all kind, and you all mean well, but I know you all see myself as his.

“It was on the worst night of my life, the night when I had been pulled apart till I was only vessels and blood, he called me his. He is not a bad person I can see that,” her voice wobbled slightly then, “He is kind and witty, he’s working harder than any of you for the forgiveness of my sister. He doesn’t deserve…” She choked up slightly, but cleared her throat to cover it up, “He’s not bad…but this bond is terrible, it’s worst then terrible, it’s suffocating. And when I think of that bond, tied around my ribs like some kind of violating shackle, I just think of how it felt to suffocate on black water...that’s what this bond means to me, it’s a violation on top of a violation. So, to hear that to you, this bond gives you a political advantage, that you get a gain out of it and that you wish me to continue living in torment I...

“I wish I could be sorry about feeling this way, but I don’t. I have stayed quiet, and I have played the role you needed me to play. I keep out of your way; I busy myself with the gardens and dinner and I do everything I can to not bare my teeth every time he visits. But I...” Her wide, damp eyes turned to look at Azriel, “I have found something living in the never ending grave of my life. After I found myself again, all those months after the Cauldron, it felt as though it was only then I emerged from the black water. After I found...” She trailed off, stilling holding Azriel’s eye, “...I was not just out the black water, but back on the ground.”

A small silence settled over the room as Azriel and Elain found themselves quickly lost in one another again, Rhys was merely glancing between the two, his mind whirring as he tried to click together the puzzle in front of him.

“I tried Rhys…I really did,” Azriel finally whispered into the heavy silence, still not looking away from his beloved. “I’ve done everything short of chaining myself in the dungeons to stay away, but I can’t.” It wasn’t until the words had left Azriel’s mouth that he realised his error. And it wasn’t until Elain’s brows furrowed and her eyes moved to Rhysand, that he felt his heart drop.

“What?” Elain whispered. One of the thousand questions she no doubt harvested. Azriel couldn’t look away from her, couldn’t meet his brothers eye. He had this awful feeling now twisting his guts, the feeling that everything was about to come crashing down.

“I ordered Azriel to stay away from you,” Rhys said evenly. Always the honest man.

“I...what?” Elain spluttered softly, her eyes narrowing on Rhysand. “What?”

“He called me away on solstice night when I was about to kiss you, that’s why I stopped.” That’s why I called it a mistake. Elain’s eyes burned even brighter and Azriel wondered if he should’ve held his tongue. If he should’ve just waited to have this conversation tomorrow where whatever ancient power that was stirring in Elain had calmed down. Now Elain’s glowing eyes seemed to fill the room with golden light, even the black night shrouding Rhysand’s figure ebbed back and inch.

“What?” Elain’s voice rung out, the magic in the room quickly turning volatile.

“I am sorry Elain; I didn’t mean to meddle with your private affairs, but with Lucien under the same roof it would’ve been too risky for those in the house. He could’ve invoked something called a ‘blood duel’.” Of course, Elain didn’t know that, of course none of her friends or family had taken the time to explain that to her.

“You…you sanctimonious dick,” Elain spat. Had it been any other day, Azriel would’ve had to fight an astonished grin at hearing the words on her lips, but not tonight, not when everything was turning so morbid in front of his eyes.

“I’m sorry Elain, I truly am. But I’m not just your brother-in-law but your High Lord and I cannot risk my entire court for the mild infatuation of a-”

“Don’t speak to her like that,” The words were writhing in venom as Azriel spat them out. He would go down with her.

“No, Azriel, you don’t speak to me like that,” And with that Rhys’ last straw was gone. In an instant his power was billowing into the room in clouds of black smoke. Rhys acting in such a way in front of Elain, who was already vulnerable, her dress already ruffled and her eyes wide in alarm, made Azriel furious.

“I am your high lord, Azriel, and I gave you a direct command and you have disobeyed me-” Without thinking Azriel’s own icy power rose to the surface, his siphons lighting on fire at the surge. If Elain was frightened by their display of bottomless power she did not show it, perhaps as her own fire was still burning vividly behind her eyes, perhaps since she knew she had more power than them both.

“Have you ever thought perhaps you stepped out of line by asking such a thing of me?” Azriel had never heard his voice so loud and angry before. He didn’t do this. His arguments were stoic and brutal, but mostly silent. He never fought politics - he carved into people who were in chains, and when there was an argument he stayed in the shadows and listened.

“You are my spymaster-”

“I am your brother!” Azriel’s choked sob echoed into the room. “Do I not deserve to be happy?” Rhysand at least had the decency to flinch, to reel back and allow his jaw to slacken in shock.

“Of course, you deserve to be happy brother,” Rhysand’s voice was low and strangled, “But this isn’t just romance – it’s never just romance – this will be a battle-”

“And I’m willing to fight!” Azriel roared, his hands slamming into Rhysand’s desk, his power causing the entire house to shudder, right down to the foundations.

“Azriel,” Rhys’ voice was deathly quiet, “I need you to calm down.” For a moment Azriel didn’t understand, his mind was so focused on Elain, on his own shuddering heart and writhing powers that he simply could not comprehend the words that came out his brothers mouth. Finally, the message registered in his mind and he became aware of his shadows, flourishing and filling the entire room, crawling over the windows and blocking out all the light. The only way he was seeing Rhysand was via the golden glow that came from Elain’s eyes. Disgust racked through his body at the sight of the manifestation of his swirling pain, but before he could do anything, the leash on his powers snapped.

“Azriel-” The next series of events was a blur. Power billowed into the room in a quick explosion, God knows whose it was. Perhaps it was initially Azriel who had finally lost control on that leash on his Illyrian gifts, perhaps Rhysand moved to repress Azriel’s powers with his own, premature or not. Maybe the quiet Elain had had enough of the noise. In an instant, a cocktail of three brands of magic billowed towards each other before exploding outwards, sending a wave of pure, unhinged chaos through the room, the house, and the whole of Velaris.

They all were thrown back from each other, Rhys flying up and landing on his feet, bracing himself against the ornamental globe as his wings appeared and flared. But even he, the most powerful High Lord in history had his knees bent and his arms raised as he braced himself against the fizzling aftershock of the ancient power that tore through the air. Azriel’s centuries of training kicked in as he was catapulted the length of the room, his own wings flared to slow his flight before he caught himself on the doorframe, the weighty wooden doors having flung open, it took an immense amount of physical upper body strength to keep himself upright as the wave of power subsided, his teeth grinding together as his muscles screamed.

But he wasn’t aware of the pain of his screaming muscles, wasn’t thinking about how his wings were in danger of being shredded by the power that ripped through the room. There was only one person, that his entire being seemed to lurch for as his mind screamed her name over and over. Elain.

Elain.

He had seen as her pale form was flung away from him towards the cabinets, had heard the shattering of glass over the howling in his ears. Of course, he and Rhysand were okay, they had centuries of power and training under their belts but Elain…Elain didn’t have training, and she had flown through the air the fastest, taking the brunt of the powers rebound, her small form crashing into the case of Rhysand’s prized artefacts.

The minute Azriel had control of his own body and wasn’t being thrust back into the hallway, he winnowed to her, stepped into the shadows with a haste and urgency he’d never felt before. Wrong. He’d felt this fear before, he recognised it’s taste from the poisonous memories of that night Elain had been ripped away from them, leaving behind nothing but a vacant cot and warm sheets. Memories of that night often haunted his dreams; how ridiculously lucky they had gotten that they had reached Elain minutes before the King of Hybern got his hands on her. In his dreams he was too late. In his nightmares he fails her, and by the time he and Feyre find the tent she’s already gone. Sometimes there’s a body, and sometimes his unconscious mind is kind enough to just leave behind her lingering scent. That night he learned what it was like to truly fear, to have the blood leave your body, to feel the world still.

And that’s what the world did as he stepped onto the other side of the shadows. Elain was crumpled on the floor underneath the large bay windows, moonlight streaming into the mutilated room and illuminating her still form. It was as though the starlight was searching for her, reaching out to her with hands made of silver shadows.

Glass crunched under Azriel’s boots as he took a step forward, and another, and another. Because he could scent it before he saw it – the blood. The sour metallic taste that clogged up the air, interwoven with her own delicate scent. Wrong, it was so wrong, to have Elain’s scent fused with that of blood. She was facing away from him, crumpled on her side in a foetal position, and he could see her arms, her beautiful nimble arms so like the legs of a doe, limp on the floor and marred with what seemed to be a thousand cuts.

Her blood was black in the moonlight, and was colouring her beautiful, beautiful night dress. The roaring in Azriel’s ears was nothing short of explosive. And before him he saw a black wave, taller than the Ramiel, heading straight for him. One that was made of self-loathing, anger, frustration and agony, and as he dropped to his knees in front of Elain he felt it wash over him, burying him deeper in himself than he’d ever been before, and he knew he would not resurface.

Slowly, as not to hurt her further, Azriel rolled Elain over onto her back and into his lap. With shaky fingers he pushed back her hair, just as he had done less than an hour earlier. Her eyes were shut again, but this time he didn’t look at her face for beauty, but for a sign of life.

“Elain…” He whispered; his voice was softer than petals. She did not stir.

“Elain…” He murmured again as he bowed his head and pressed it against her chest, sticky blood rubbing against his cheek as he did so. For a moment it was all silent, and Azriel felt the world drop away, felt himself falling through bottomless black water only to never resurface.

And then there it was. The familiar ‘thu-thump’ beating slow and steady in her chest, the sweetest melody Azriel had ever heard. But before he could revel in the relief of Elain being alive, movement at the side of his eye made him snap his head, turn up his top lip and let loose a nothing but feral growl. It was his brother, and a small wave of shame rolled through him at having behaved in such a way to someone whom he owed so much.

“Azriel…” Rhysand’s voice was soothing, calm, “She’s having a vision…look, Azriel look. She’s okay, she’s just having a vision.”

And so, he looked again and yes, she was having a vision. Behind her eyelids Azriel could see her pupils flurrying side to side as though she were engaged in some riveting dream.

She’s having a vision; she’s having a vision. His shadows chanted to him, running up his back and whispering in his ear. It didn’t soothe him, but rather caused the cloud of anger around him to disappear, so that he was numb again. Some movement deep in the house pulled at his attention, but it was like a ribbon trying to move an ocean, there was nothing for it to hold onto.

And soon both men were turning to the worst thing of all: Feyre and Nesta, standing at the doorway looking at their sister unresponsive in a pool of blood, both primed and ready to kill.

“Get away from her.” Nesta’s voice clanged through the room like steel as she strode forward, seeming to fill the broken room with her strength alone. As she moved she revealed a slightly dazed Cassian behind her, still dressed in his night clothes and yet armed to the teeth, clearly having been awoken in a haste. Rhys took a step back, there was too much power, too much energy, in the room already, provoking Nesta would surely lead them all to their sudden deaths.

Then there was Feyre, walking into the room behind her sister, quiet but observant, the perfect High Lady. She seemed to assess everything around her. The tautness of her husband’s stature, the silent flood of emotions that seemed to be rippling from her spymaster, Elain’s shallow breaths and bloodied night gown. After a moment of quiet assessment, she moved forth to the stoic and emotionless figure of her shadowsinger.

“Azriel,” Rhys recognised Feyre’s tone as she approached his brother, it was the tone she used with Nyx, motherly and soft. Azriel pulled his eyes from Elain to look at Feyre vacantly. “It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay…but I need you to let me take her.” Azriel’s mouth contorted in pain as he pulled Elain slighter closer to his chest.

“I know,” Feyre whispered, dropping to her knees next to him, not caring that her own silken nightgown was turning splotchy and red. “I know it’s hard but everything’s going to be okay. She’s my sister, and I as your High Lady will not let anything harm her.” There’s no need, Azriel thought bitterly as he looked down at Elain’s deathly pale skin, her abuser is here, right in front of you. The only harm you need protect her from, is me.

But he didn’t say any of that out loud, he wasn’t even sure his voice would work for him in that moment. Azriel didn’t quite hand Elain over to Feyre, rather he just let his arms go limp around her, and Feyre was able to scoop her sister out of his arms as though they were passing Nyx from one another. Every instinct Azriel had was screaming at him to take Elain back, to at least look at her unconscious form in Feyre’s arms as they moved away from him, but he kept his eyes on the floor, now kneeling to only the pools of Elain’s blood.

Voices began to erupt around him in hushes whispers, he could distantly hear Rhysand guiding his subjects through the plan, explaining to them what had happened whilst withholding the reason why. It was all numb to him as he continued to float under that black wave, sinking deeper and deeper, their voices were above the surface and so they just sounded warbled and strange.

But one movement did catch Azriel’s eye. It cut through the room’s silent chaos like a knife, a figure appearing at the ruined doorway that caught Azriel’s attention the same way an earthquake would. It was him.

Lucien.

“What happened?” Lucien growled out and something roared in Azriel. He knew that tone of voice, could smell the mate-tarnished anger that was rolling out of him. That animalistic claim on the woman Azriel had nearly lost himself in only moments ago. That’s why he was here, because he would’ve felt the energy down the bond, because even though he was at the other end of Prythian with his own family, he had that claim.

“She’s okay,” Feyre breathed softly as she lifted her sister up into her arms, “Her cuts are already healing, it looks worse than it is. She’s just had a vision so it might take a while for her to come around.” Feyre’s voice was so like her husband’s, even and balanced, reassuring everyone in the room that everything was okay, even if that were not necessarily true.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Azriel didn’t want to hate Lucien, even now he could see that the Autumn son was grappling with the bond that was no doubt screaming at him to rip his mate from Feyre’s arms and winnow them both to the other side of the continent. Azriel knew, because he felt it too. Like Elain he didn’t really hate Lucien, he hated the bond, hated what it told him about himself, clear as day, that he wasn’t worthy of Elain. And though some part of him already assumed just as much, no one was so self-deprecating to not at least hold of a sliver of hope in the face of such agony.

“She’s fine,” Nesta snarled at Lucien, one hand on Feyre’s shoulder, the other on Elain’s pale and bloodied forehead as she guided her sisters towards to mutilated door frame. They were right to take their sister away from the scene, God knew that no one there could help Elain now.

And so Elain disappeared around the corner, and Azriel slowly brought himself off the floor, trying to ignore the sight of his marred hands, covered in her blood.

What...even...Cassian’s voice swam into Rhys mind, dripping in confusion and concern. Did you and Az have a fight?

Rhys put off audibly groaning. Whenever he and Az fought it was normally not difficult to keep Cassian oblivious, he didn’t always pick up and stuff like that and sometimes it was just easier to deal with debates behind closed doors. Not to treat Cassian as his and Az’s overgrown child, it was just that Cassian was never meant to be a mediator.

It’s complicated, Rhys reported back keeping his voice level and calm - his High Lord voice.

I’ll let you off for tonight but, Rhys, you have to let me help you. Especially when it comes to Az. He was right of course, just like Azriel had been.

Deal, Rhys shot back, for tonight I need eyes on Az, I don’t care if he pushes you away I need someone with him at all times, at least until Elain comes around. We’ll re-group then. Cassian didn’t respond besides the smallest of nods. He stayed where he was, more awake now with his eyes trained on their other brother, and Rhys knew Cassian wouldn’t take his eyes off him for the foreseeable future.

Rhysand couldn’t help but sigh, it’s not as though Azriel or Lucien were aware of him to notice. This was a mess. Worse than a mess, it was a catastrophe. Everything Azriel had said was right but, he had broken his order, he had defied rank in a way he’d never done before and that squeezed something deep in Rhysand’s gut. Above all he needed to be able to trust his friends, so that when push came to shove he’d be able to make the tough decisions and his friends would let him go into the belly of the beast. But tonight, that had changed. Everything had changed.

And Elain, Elain who he had nearly called by his sisters name, she’d stood up for herself tonight. And then there was the situation of her powers, savage and rippling out of her like a beast. He had tasted those powers when they’d tore out of her, and they were ancient. The same power that was interwoven in the very fields of the earth, concentrated in the form of the sweetest girl of all. Rhys knew at least a thousand fae who would pay a hefty price to possess Elain, a hundred who might be willing to go to war - and then there were the Fae who would claw for her hand, the noblemen who would see her for her potential offspring. Rhysand physically shuddered as he sent his wings away.

Yes, tonight had been a catastrophe all right.

Rhysand looked away from Cassian’s half-hidden grimace and turned to the two males standing off, the blood of the woman they were unspokenly fighting over still pooling across the hardwood floors. Lucien glaring with restrained anger at Azriel, his masculine mating bond clogging up the air, whilst Azriel wore an impenetrable mask, hiding the bottomless torment and agony that was no doubt running rife in the shadowsinger, as he stared at the weeping puddle of Elain’s blood.

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