#in general i have a bad habit of drawing heads too long and my light definitely suffered for that at the time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mint-yooxgi · 2 years

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{15} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Hongjoong)

Words: 8,068

Warnings: Insecurities, violent thoughts/comments, uncertainty. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: So, I totally didn’t expect this scene with Hongjoong to be as long as it was, but you know what, he deserves it. I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you’ll all enjoy reading it. Also, smut next chapter hehehe (probably). As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Mini Masterlist

“I thought I would find you here,” the gentle hum of a voice draws your attention to the open doorway of the garden, where you can see Hongjoong slowly beginning to make his way over to you.

Currently, you sit comfortably on one of the benches off to the left of the fountain, watching the water gently trickle and ripple out as the scent of all of your favourite flowers surrounds you. It’s been exactly three days since that night you’ve shared with Mingi, and you just really needed some fresh air. Not that you’re in a horrible mood, or anything, you’ve just had too much time to think.

One habit of yours that you’ve never been able to break is overthinking things. Sure, it may not be as bad now as it was at the start of this whole fiasco, but still, sometimes you cannot help but get caught up in your own head.

It also just seems to be one of those days. A day of which you just feel more down on yourself than usual. Luckily, it hasn’t happened for a little while, but still, it occurs more than you’d like to admit.

“May I sit with you?” He stands a mere two feet away from the bench, hands clasped behind his back as a soft look rests on his features.

A nod of your head is all the confirmation he receives.

Keeping his movements light, Hongjoong slowly takes a seat on the opposite side of the bench that you’re sitting on. His hands rest in his lap as he folds them over one another, extending his legs out in front of him so that his ankles are crossed.

A minute passes in silence. Then another, and another, with you still staring intently at that fountain. That is, until Hongjoong’s gentle voice calling out to you manages to pull you out of your thoughts once more.

“What seems to be on your mind, My Love?”

A long sigh escapes your nose as you exhale, chest deflating with your breath as your thumbs begin to run over each other slowly. You notice you have his complete and utter attention as he turns slightly to face you, the concern clear in his eyes.

“I just-“ you let out another sigh, seemingly searching for the right words. Your lips part, before closing again, until you finally settle on what it is that you want to say. “I am overwhelmed.”

Immediately, he’s sitting upright, worry clear on his features as he reaches out for you. Only, he stops himself halfway, unsure of whether or not you would want his touch comforting you, or even if you would let him.

“Have we done something to upset you?” The question is posed in a concerned tone, Hongjoong needing to know what’s wrong, and how he can fix it as soon as possible.

“No, no,” you shake your head. “Please, do not misunderstand. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life.”

Slowly, carefully, Hongjoong reaches over to place a caring hand on top of your own, which haven’t seemed to stop nervously toying with each other since before he arrived. You freeze slightly, but do not shy away from his touch as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

“Then, what could be bothering you so greatly, My Love?” His voice is soft, the thumb of his one hand tracing over the skin of your own.

Once more, you avert your gaze to your lap, staring intently at his hand resting over your own. At the way he seems to halt his movement of his thumb over the skin of the back of your hand, you can tell that he’s probably about to pull away from you. Only, you seem to surprise both him, and yourself, as you turn your hand to place your palm directly against his own, fingers intertwining as you practically cling onto him for support.

Then, as if confessing to the greatest sin of your life, you speak, voice barely above a whisper.

“Do I really deserve all of this?” Your eyes briefly glance up at the garden around you, before turning to meet his gaze. Hongjoong feels as if you are boring a hole right through his very soul at the intensity he can see shining behind them. “Do I really deserve all of you?”

There’s a hint of fear in your voice, a sort of sadness that he does not quite understand for the moment. That is, until the flash of your shared memory from the other week paints his mind.

He smiles sorrowfully, eyes drooping slightly as he feels that all too familiar painful tug on his heart.

“Of course you do, My Love.” He replies, voice a mere whisper on his lips. “Why would you ever think that you are unworthy of all of this? Of all of our love?”

“You’ve all done so much for me, and I’ve done nothing to earn it.” The admission has shame washing over you, your shoulders slumping as you curl forwards and in on yourself. “I’m still only human. I don’t understand what literal gods would want with me.”

“You exist.” Comes his blunt response, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. At the way Hongjoong can see your brow furrow in confusion, he lets out a small chuckle before continuing.

“My Love, you make us feel things that we have not felt in centuries. You make us feel alive.” He says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Every day, we fall a little bit harder for you with each and every new discovery you present to us. At least, I know I do. There is nothing about you that does not sing to my very soul in some way. Your intelligence is unrivalled; your dignity, your charm, your kindness. The way you care for those which you hold dear and cherish most, portrays a thoughtfulness that we have always held in high regard for each other throughout our lives.”

“You evoke emotions in us that we have not felt in millennia, nor experienced before in all of our long years of living.” He continues, staring deeply into your eyes as he notices tears begin to gather in your own. His heart pangs for a completely different reason now. “Your passions rival our own; your integrity, your determination, and your wit. We are more alike than you realize, which could not make you a better fit for us, nor make us desire you more than we already do. You are perfect in every way: mind, body, and soul.”

Hongjoong shifts the slightest bit closer to you as a soft smile graces his features. In the next moment, he gives your hand another gentle squeeze, reassuring you through both his actions, and his words how honest he is being with you right now. How sincere.

Though, it’s his next admission that truly knocks the wind right out of you.

“It is us that do not deserve you.”

“Hongjoong,” the whisper of his name on your lips is synonymous with the first tear that spills down the side of your cheek.

“You have showed us a kindness - a benevolence - that we did not deserve. You chose to trust us, despite everything we - despite everything I - have done. You have shared parts of yourself with us that we have only ever dreamed of being revealed to us, much sooner than we probably deserve.” He raises his free hand, turning even more into you so he can cup the side of your face tenderly in his palm. “There is no greater gift, no higher honour that you could give to us, than allowing us the opportunity to enter your heart in the same ways you have entered ours. Please, never forget that.”

Your eyelids flutter closed as you lean into his touch, feeling his thumb beginning to brush over the skin of your cheek as he caresses you tenderly. Another tear falls, and he’s quick to brush it away.

“Please, do not cry, My Love,” his voice is gentle as he holds you in his embrace like this. His heart squeezes painfully at knowing that you’ve been sitting here, alone, feeling like this for who knows how long, trapped in your own thoughts. “Do not ever doubt for one second that you do not deserve everything that we have to offer, and so much more. We would not hesitate to give you entire galaxies if that is what you so desire. You need simply only ask for something, and we will do everything in our power to grant your every wish. You are our entire world. Our light. Our life. We- I hope you never doubt that again.”

You take a deep, albeit shaky breath in as a moment of stillness passes between the both of you. Your eyes remain closed as you revel in his touch, your whole body feeling as if it’s humming with life as he holds your cheek in the palm of his hand. Then, slowly, you begin to nod softly.

“Thank you,” your voice is but a whisper as you breathe out, eyes blinking open to meet his own. “Thank you, Hongjoong, I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course, My Love,” he smiles tenderly at you, giving your cheek a final brush with his thumb before slowly pulling his hand away. “I am just glad I could offer you comfort during this time. I care about you more than you’ll ever know.”

Wiping at the rest of your lingering tears with the back of your free hand, you notice his one arm now stretched along the back of the bench. Shifting slightly, you lean into him, much to Hongjoong’s pleasant surprise. You give his hand still held in yours a small squeeze.

“Will you sit with me for a while longer?” An offer extended to him which makes his heart leap into his throat for all of the right reasons.

“I would love nothing more,” he replies, shifting slightly closer into you and noticing how your lips quirk the slightest bit upwards as he does so.

Oh, so badly does Hongjoong want to roar in happiness. How long has he dreamt of moments like this, shared with you while you rest in each other’s embrace? Finally, it seems as if his dreams are all coming true.

A few minutes of silence wash over the both of you, but this time, they are not filled with the same heaviness as before. The only sound that fills the space is the trickling of water from the fountain. A soft breeze brushes past.

Hongjoong smiles, fully relaxing into this moment with you. He absolutely adores how you have yet to release his hand, nor move away from his touch yet. If he’s being honest with himself, he could spend hours sitting like this with you. That is, if you let him. The cherry on top is the smile he notices that begins to paint your features as he makes another slight breeze drift by, the scent from the flowers filling your lungs with every breath you take.

Still, he cannot help the way worry tugs at the back of his mind at the mood he walked in on you in.

“My Love?” His voice pulls you back to reality as you hum in acknowledgement. “I do not wish to pry, and you do not have to answer me if you aren’t ready. However, I am simply wondering why you felt unworthy of all of this just now.”

You purse your lips slightly in thought, contemplating how best to respond. Taking a calming breath in, you begin to speak.

“I have gone through my whole life with people always expecting something from me. Whether it was in return for something they did, performance wise, or other, people were never just content with the parts I was willing to give. They always had to take something in return. It’s so engrained in me to always give more than I want to, or have to now, and to not receive anything back, that it just feels weird when someone else does things for me without expectations.” You explain, your eyes falling to your lap once more. “So, when that does happen, I feel like I’m cheating others. It’s the whole, ‘I’ve done nothing to deserve what I’m being given, so why are they giving it to me?’ mentality.”

“I’m scared, Hongjoong." You admit, sparing a glance up into his eyes and noticing how his breath catches in his throat when you do so. “You have all done so much for me, and I just feel like I haven’t done anything in return. What if I’m not who you think I am? What if, when I finally give myself to all of you, I am no longer what you want? What will happen when you all grow tired of me, and I’m of no more importance to you that a spec of dirt? Will you no longer want me when I do give you what you finally want?”

You take another shaky breath in, clinging onto his hand for dear life as a fear unlike anything he’s seen from you before swirls within your eyes.

“I’m scared, Hongjoong,” you repeat, voice much more hushed than it was a moment ago, as if confessing to your own thoughts is the biggest crime you could ever commit. “I’m scared because I-“ you swallow, “I really like living with you guys. It’s like I said before, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my entire life, and that’s all because of you. I love how none of you expect more from me than what I’m willing to give, and you have never expected more of me than that. I appreciate every minuscule detail you each put into our home, and that you literally went above and beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

“I care about you all in my own ways, and I just-“ you let out a sigh, staring at your intertwined hands as you brush your own thumb over the skin on the back of his own. “I don’t ever want to lose this. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

Hongjoong has to swallow the sudden dryness in his throat, tears now springing to his own eyes as a warmth unlike any other spreads through his chest at your final confession. Though, he still worries about your own fears. Fears of which are untrue, and have no reason to be consuming your every thought. Only, before any words of reassurance can escape him, you are continuing.

“I know,” you chuckle dryly, “it’s incredibly selfish of me, isn’t it? To not want to give up anything. I just-“ you sigh once more, “I can’t help it. For the first time in my life, I finally know what it feels like to be someone’s first choice. For the first time in my life, I know what it feels like to have someone be in love with me, and actually mean it. Which is why your words earlier are everything to me. You all make me feel so incredibly special, that I never want it to stop.”

“And it never will,” he assures you, meeting your gaze once more as he stares deeply into your eyes. “My Love, we will never not want you. You are so ingrained in our very souls, that to leave you would be like leaving a part of ourselves behind. We- I am so deeply in love with you, that I would never stop trying to make you fall for me in the same ways that I’ve fallen for you. Were you no longer in my life, I do not know if I would be able to go on. I do not know if any of us would. You are everything to us - to me, that we- I will never stop wanting to give you everything that you’ve always deserved, and so much more.”

You smile faintly, bringing your free hand up to caress the side of his face with your palm, noticing how he leans into your touch almost immediately. His eyelids flutter closed as he once again revels in this very moment here with you.

“Hongjoong,” his name is but a whisper on your lips, and you can just tell that he can hear how your heart thunders away in your chest. “I believe you.”

He mirrors your smile, eyes remaining shut as he rests in the palm of your hand.

“Good,” he squeezes your hand still held tightly in his own. “I’m glad.”

“Your words have reassured me more than you know,” you breathe. “I really didn’t know how badly I needed to hear them until now. Though, your actions tend to speak for themselves.”

You finish with a small chuckle, and when Hongjoong opens his eyes, he notices your gaze trailing around the garden once more.

“It’s like I’ve said, My Love,” he turns his head to place a soft kiss onto the palm of your hand, his lips tickling your skin as he speaks into you, eyes still locked onto your own, “you deserve everything that we have to offer, and so much more.”

Your lips part as if you want to say something more, but you stop yourself, brow furrowing slightly in worry. As if what you have to say is a worse admission than everything that has come before.

Hongjoong blinks, eyes searching your face incase anything about your expression gives way to what you’re thinking right now. At the way his breath hitches slightly, he thinks he’s beginning to understand.

“My Love, you are enough.” At the way he feels your whole body still before him, he knows his words have struck true. “You are always more than enough for us. All we have ever wanted, all we have ever desired, is you. Your happiness, your affection, your love. That is all we ask: simply be you.”

“But I haven’t-“

“You don’t need to do anything to deserve our love and affection,” Hongjoong cuts you off, noticing much to his discontent how your hand falls from his face and back to your lap for the moment. “We are in love with you, not anything you could possibly provide for us. Actions and words are simply extensions of who we are; you do not need to provide more than you’re willing to give. Just let us take care of you.”

“I-“ you blink, taking a deep breath in to steady your nerves. Your head begins to throb. “There are parts of me that none of you know about yet, and I just cannot help but fear that once you do know, you will never look at me the same way again.”

“We are more alike than you think,” Hongjoong observes, shifting his attention back to the fountain in front of you. “Not a day goes by where I do not think of everything that I’ve done that could scare you away again in the blink of an eye, if you knew of the various sins that I have committed.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m invalidating your own feelings.” You mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you look down at your lap yet again.

“Do not worry, My Love, I never thought that for one second.” He gives your hand still held in his another reassuring squeeze. “What I’m trying to say is this: it’s normal to have these sorts of fears. Yet, that’s love, is it not? Revealing yourself fully; stripping yourself bare to the one that holds your heart in the palm of their hands and giving them the power to either cradle it gently, or tear it apart in the blink of an eye.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” you chuckle slightly, lips quirking in the corner. “Though, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a love like this before.”

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” He leans in slightly, head gently resting against your own as he draws you in closer.

You hum, shifting your gaze slightly to spare him a glance out of the corner of your eyes.

“Neither have I,” his confession is a mere whisper against the skin of your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “In all of my long years of life, I have never referred to anyone as I do you.”

“You mean you’ve never…?” You trail off, and Hongjoong gladly fills in the rest for you.

“Called anyone ‘My Love’ before?” He chuckles at the way you pull away slightly to gaze at him with wide eyes. “No, I have not.”

You blink, that familiar tug of curiosity shining within your eyes. “Why?”

“Because I have never found anyone worthy enough to call them as such.” He replies, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “I have never felt so strongly about anyone as I do you. All the other times I have experienced love in my life feel like child’s play compared to this. You have shown me what being in love truly feels like, and means. I have finally found a piece of me that I did not realize I had been longing for all these long years.”

“Hongjoong,” your heart positively flutters at his confession, fingers tightening around his own as your opposite hand comes to rest on top of your intertwined ones.

“Do you think we’d call just anyone Our Queen?” He chuckles, nudging your knee with his own affectionately.

“No,” you smile softly, “I suppose not.”

“So, please, My Love, do not let these thoughts consume you any longer.” He meets your gaze once more. “Whenever you need me, whenever you need us, we will be right there to help calm you down, and assure you that they have no truth to them. Ever. You are everything to us. You, and you alone.”

For a moment, a silence settles around the both of you as you let his words sink in. The corners of your lips tug upwards faintly as you reach out to him once more, the palm of your hand caressing the side of his face. In the next moment, you’re leaning in, placing a tender kiss onto the skin of his opposite cheek.

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” you pull away, noticing how the tips of his ears begin to turn bright red as you lean into him, resting your head upon his shoulder. “You have eased the worry in both my heart, and my mind, more than you will ever know. I appreciate everything that you do for me, and have done for me. I appreciate you.”

“I will always be here for you, My Love,” his chest rumbles in content as he wraps his arm fully around your shoulders, pulling you closer into himself for the moment. “In anyway that I can.”

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” your heart warms as you allow your eyes to flutter closed, revelling in such a tender moment shared with him. “I don’t know why my thoughts got the better of me today.”

“We all have off days,” he comments with a hum, thumb back to brushing over the skin on the back of your hand.

You nod once more, continuing to rest your head against his shoulder for the time being. Again, Hongjoong creates a gentle breeze which flits through the garden, caressing both you and him as the scents of the flowers surround you both.

“Hongjoong?” Your voice pulls him back into this moment here in time.

“Yes, My Love?”

“May I ask you something?” You seem somewhat nervous despite the curiosity lingering in your tone.

“Of course, My Love,” comes his immediate response. “Ask me anything you desire, and I will answer to the best of my abilities.”

You smile faintly as you curl in closer to his side. A fact which warms his heart more than you’ll ever know.

“You do not have to answer if you don’t want to, but I was wondering,” you take a deep breath in, “can you tell me more about your relationship with Miyeon?”

Even though it’s slight, you can still feel the way his whole body tenses beneath you, clearly caught off guard by your question. That is, until he’s relaxing once more.

“What would you like to know?”

“You said you didn’t love her, yet you are one of the four counted in a relationship with her. Why?” You tilt your head slightly upwards to look at him, all the while continuing to rest against his shoulder.

“There are many different types of relationships other than just romantic, My Love,” he begins. “Sure, it may not have been your typical one, but we were still in agreement with one another. There’s just one thing I need you to understand: we both used each other for our own gains, and nothing more. She used me to get herself off, just as I-“ he sighs, voice lowering slightly in what you believe to be shame, “I used her. There was no love involved. At least, on my end.”

“She started to fall for you?” You ask, tone soft as you continue to gaze up at him.

“To this day I still do not know if she actually did, or if it was all apart of her game of trying to lure us all into her trap,” he sighs, leaning further back into the bench. “Though, I was never willing to give her more than I did. I didn’t want her love, and I felt as if she didn’t deserve mine. What she did to Yunho only confirmed it.”

“There’s a few pointed things I would like to do to her for what she did to him,” a frown pulls at your features as clear venom coats your words. “To what she did to all of you.”

“Oh?” Hongjoong quirks his brow, curiosity shining in his gaze as his heart begins to pound beneath his chest. “Care to share, My Love?”

Your eyes briefly meet his own before drifting to stare intently at the fountain in front of you. You shift slightly in your seat, crossing your one leg over the other as you pull his hand further into your lap.

“I think tearing out her heart after cracking open her ribs one by one for easier access is a good start,” you reply, seemingly nonchalantly with a shrug.

The growl that escapes him is nothing short of pleased as a shiver runs down his spine.

“My Love,” he practically moans out the name, “you can’t just say something like that and not realize the effect you’ll have on me.”

You shrug once more, “you asked.”

“See, yet another reason I fall deeper in love with you each day,” he chuckles, and at the way your brow quirks at him, he smirks, leaning in closer to you as his voice drops to a mere whisper, “you’re always full of pleasant surprises, My Love.”

You giggle, and Hongjoong swears that it’s the most melodic sound he’s ever heard in his life.

“More violent than you were expecting?” You joke, another giggle escaping your lips.

“Unbelievably so,” he sighs, dreamily.

“You’d be surprised by the types of thoughts I can have,” you reply. “Or perhaps you all just bring out the best in me.”

“Not the worst?” This time, it’s his turn to quirk a brow at your choice in words.

“I think after being so passive for so long in my life I can have a little violence,” you hum. “As a treat.”

Hongjoong laughs, squeezing your hand in his as he feels your shoulders shaking along with his.

“You can have as much violence as you desire, My Love,” he grins, his eyes tinting with that all too familiar darkness as a happiness unlike anything he’s ever felt before swirls within. “I look forward to discovering all of your more violent thoughts in that pretty little head of yours. Always.”

“Perhaps you won’t have to wait much longer to find out,” you smirk, a teasing lilt to your voice.

Another pleased growl escapes him, and you feel him pull you closer into him, causing you to sit upright once more as he turns his head to look at you.

“That’s a very dangerous admission, My Love,” his voice is low as his eyes flick down to your lips, tongue darting out to wet his own in the next second. “Are you sure you want to tempt me like this?”

You lean into him then, free hand coming up to cradle the back of his neck. Your fingers tangle in his locks as you do so, and you do not fail to notice the pleased rumble that echoes throughout his chest and reverberates through your own.

“What am I, if not tempting?” You grin, a seductive pull of your lips as your grip tightens in his hair.

“You are the greatest temptation I have ever known,” his admission is but a whisper against your own lips as he leans in that much closer to you, yet never so far as to make you uncomfortable.

“Then, how sweet it will be when I finally let you indulge,” the smirk that pulls onto your features is deadly, voice low as your own gaze darts down to his lips for the briefest of moments.

However, before Hongjoong can even so much as pose the question that he has always wanted to ask you, you’re pulling away. A knowing look graces your features in a smug pull of your lips upwards as you turn to face the fountain once more. Your hand releases its grip on his hair to reach across and pat at his knee.

“All in due time, Joong,” you hum. “All in due time.”

Despite the feeling swirling in his chest at not being able to kiss you quite yet, there is a glimmer of hope shining behind his eyes. Already, you have allowed him to hold you like this for much longer than he could have ever imagined, your hand still being firmly held in his own. Plus, your words serve as a promise to him of what is still yet to come. A fact of which could not make him any happier than he is in this moment here in time with you.

“May I be honest with you?” Your voice pulls him out of his own thoughts of leaning in to place a tender kiss onto your cheek.

“I would love nothing more, My Love,” comes his gentle reply.

“When you first told me about Miyeon, and how you never cared for her, I was worried,” you sigh, diverting your gaze to the ground as the words fall from your lips. “I feared that you were playing me for a fool, and only making me believe that you were in love with me for some ulterior motive.”

“My Love, I would never-“

“Please, Hongjoong,” you cut him off as you look back up to meet his gaze once more. Nothing but a soft fondness shines there, and it eases a tension from his shoulders that he hasn’t realized he’s been holding onto this entire time. “Let me finish.”

He nods his head, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out what that might be. You had already assured me you weren’t after my soul, and you vowed that you would never force yourself on me.” You tilt your head slightly as if contemplating your previous thoughts once more now. “You have never done anything which would warrant my immediate discomfort, and you went out of your way to make me feel comfortable. Anything and everything I could ever want or need, you provided, even if I was being stubborn or I didn’t deserve it.”

You can see him about to protest yet again, but you shush him by placing a finger of your free hand against his lips.

“Your actions alone spoke for themselves,” you continue, and you watch him blink once at you. You lower your hand. “No one in their right mind would bother to put on such a dedicated act for so long. I can always feel the sincerity of your words every time you speak to me, and this past hour alone with you has just confirmed what I’ve already known. Please believe me when I say that I believe you. To me, you do not seem like the type to lead someone on, nor take more than what you yourself are willing to give. I think that’s one of the things I appreciate most about you. Your integrity has never made me doubt your intentions for one second.”

“My Love,” his eyes shine with that all too familiar fondness you are so used to seeing from him.

“I can tell just from the way you look at me that you have never been dishonest with your emotions,” once more, your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, thumb gently stroking the skin right below his one eye. “You cannot fake that.”

“Never,” he breathes, gaze locked onto your own as his eyes search for any signs of hesitance or discomfort from you. He finds none. “Not to you. Never you.”

“You have spent every day since I got here proving your love for me, and I will never forget that,” you say, voice a mere whisper on the wind as you look at him with such tenderness in your eyes, that he cannot help the way his breath hitches in his throat. “I may not be able to say the words you long to hear from me quite yet, but I can tell you this,” Hongjoong holds his breath as you meet his gaze, “I am starting to fall for you, Hongjoong, and it most certainly is not a bad thing.”

It’s as if his entire world has stopped, a warmth flooding his veins as this moment here in time washes over the both of you. Your words have him recalling the very last thing you said to him when you both were previously in the garden together, and he cannot help the way tears begin to spring to his eyes once more. You have just made him so incredibly happy, that Hongjoong feels as if he could let out a roar that would shake the very foundations of the earth. This shared moment with you is so intimate to him, reassuring him in the best of ways, and giving him such hope, that he wants to revel in this feeling forever.

Hongjoong doesn’t even realized he’s moved to caress the back of your neck until his eyes are refocusing on the scene before him. The way he can see you staring at him, eyes full of affection as a soft smile paints your features, sets his heart racing inside his chest. That all too familiar warmth blossoms within him, spreading outwards until he can feel the tips of his very fingers tingling at your slightest touch.

His eyes glance down at your lips.

“My Love,” his voice is rough, raw from the pure emotions running through his very being as this moment washes over him and settles deep within the core of his soul. “Thank you-“ his breath hitches once more in his throat as he pulls your intertwined hands to his chest so you can feel how his heart is pounding inside his chest. For you, and you alone. “There are not enough words in all of the tongues of this universe to describe to you what this means to me, what you mean to me.”

“You don’t have to,” you squeeze his hand, the fingers you have cradling his cheek pressing against him the slightest bit more. “I understand, Hongjoong. You have made me believe.”

“My Love,” his words are strained, throat tightening as his emotions consume his very soul. He swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he glances down at your own, heartbeat ringing in his ears. “Can I-“ he breathes, voice low as he leans in that much closer to you. “May I-“

Hongjoong struggles to get the words out, partially due to the emotions swirling inside of him this very instant, but also due to the fear of you possibly pulling away from him if he’s pushing things too fast. He doesn’t want to scare you away again.

“Do you want to kiss me, Captain?” There’s a hint of a teasing lilt to your voice as the corner of your lips quirk upwards.

“Yes, please,” he practically moans out, a shudder running throughout his entire body at the significance behind this moment. Not to mention your very words, of which have him tingling with a desperation for you unlike ever before. “More than anything.”

“Then, kiss me, My King,”

His lips are on yours before you even finish getting the words out, and you can feel the way his pleased growl reverberates against your skin as he pulls you in closer. His grip is desperate as his hand supports the back of your neck, cradling you to him gently as he holds you carefully in his grip. Everything that he is, everything that he feels, he pours into this kiss, loving the way he can hear your breath hitch as he deepens it.

His whole body begins to tingle. Hongjoong can feel the heat from your hand on his cheek, as well as the way your grip tightens around his own as he holds your intertwined hands against his chest. His heart is beating erratically as he feels your fingers move to tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer into you as you let out the sweetest of whimpers into his mouth. A sound which he greedily swallows, wanting to hear even more, and all just for him.

This is everything he could have ever wanted, and so much more as he feels his chest rumble with another pleased growl. He knows his eyes have long since bled black beneath his lids as he holds you to him, revelling in this moment for as long as he can. The way your lips feel pressed against his own, tongue languidly stroking against his, has a heat unlike anything he’s ever felt before flooding his entire being.

All too soon, you’re pulling away from him. Only, now, Hongjoong craves more. Taking this opportunity, he places a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth, moving to trail his lips down your jawline before beginning to nip at the skin of your neck. The way you seem to tilt your head back the slightest to give him easier access has another pleased rumble building in his chest.

More. More. Hongjoong wants more. He craves it. That all too familiar beast begins to snarl within him, begging him to claim you like he’s long since desired, to make you his in every possible way that he knows how. At the way you hum as he bites down on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, he finds it even harder to control himself at this very moment in time.

The feeling of your fingers gently tugging at the hair on the back of his neck pulls his attention away from you just long enough for you to part his lips from your skin. A giggle escapes you as he meets your gaze, eyes swirling with that all too familiar darkness you’ve become so used to from him as a soft pout tugs at his lips.

“How about we save that for later, yeah?” You chuckle, a grin painting your features as you watch his eyes shine.

“As you wish, My Queen,” he hums, words but a growl on his lips.

Slowly, your hand moves back to cradling his face in your palm, thumb gently stroking along his cheek as he leans into your touch once more. Hongjoong’s own hand releases his hold on the back of your neck in order to rest along the top of the bench once more, fingers dancing lightly along the skin of your shoulders. His eyelids flutter closed.

“I love you,” he breathes, turning his head once more to place a kiss onto the skin of your open palm.

You smile as his eyes flutter open to meet your own, “I believe you.”

Another comfortable silence settles around the both of you as you bask in each other’s presence. You shift yourself so that you’re leaning against his side yet again, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you rest your head on his. Nothing could make you both happier than you are right now.

For an hour, the two of you sit like this, chatting idly while keeping your voices low. Neither of you want to disturb the moment you have created here together, perfectly content to stay wrapped up in each other’s embrace like this for as long as the other will allow.

You don’t quite remember when he started, but Hongjoong has begun to play with your fingers, threading them through his own and tracing patterns into the skin on the back of your hand. It’s quite calming, and you can feel tingles shooting up your arms wherever he touches. A pleasant, albeit new sensation to you. One which you could very much get used to without a second thought.

“We have another council meeting coming up in a few days,” he says after a brief moment of silence. “Are you going to be okay on your own again, given everything going on?”

“More than okay,” you smile, turning your head to place a gentle kiss onto his jawline. “Thank you for asking.”

“Nothing can get passed our wards, regardless,” he assures you.

“I believe you,” you chuckle, settling deeper into his side. “Though, I’m curious what this one will be about.”

“Probably more complaints about issues that could solve themselves,” he mirrors your chuckle, an overdramatic sigh escaping him in the next moment. “You’d be surprised at how many of our subjects cannot make their own decisions.”

“Sounds like every other person I know,” you join in on the teasing. “Though I can’t imagine the shit you all have to deal with.”

“It does get repetitive at times,” he admits. “Though, I think the worst is when certain demons ask if they can plant crops on their own lands.”

You blank as you look up at him. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” he sighs, an exasperated chuckle escaping him in the next second. “Though, with how the last meeting went, I’m sure the clans have found the rest of the traitors, and just want us to condemn them.”

“Traitors?” You quirk a brow.

“The reason there was blood on the floor that one morning after we returned,” he replies, and he notices the way you nod slightly in response.

“Wait, you mean you guys didn’t kill them all?” Your brow furrows as you push yourself the slightest bit away to look up at him.

“We could have,” he shrugs, “but then we wouldn’t have any left to condemn and make an example out of when the time is right.”

“Fair enough,” you hum, resting your head back onto his shoulder. “As long as you’ve destroyed their leader, and haven’t made them into a martyr, the cause should be lost.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you can just tell he’s contemplating your words.

“You have destroyed their leader, haven’t you?” Your eyebrows raise considerably as you wait for his response.

“If I’m honest, My Love, we never even bothered to learn who it was,” he replies. “We wouldn’t be able to tell you if we killed them or not when we slaughtered the majority of them that one night.”

“Okay, well,” you tighten your grip on him slightly, “just be careful. I don’t want to see any of you get hurt. Especially not when we have Miyeon to deal with.” Then, as if realizing something, a worry takes over your features. “She won’t be there, will she?”

“No, no, of course not.” He’s quick to assure you. “Her clan knows what will happen to her and them if she so much as dares to show her face to us at a council again.”

“Ah,” relief washes over you, even if he can still sense that wisp of fear lingering in your grip, “I see.”

“Your concern for us all means more than you’ll ever know, My Love,” he hums, eyes shining affectionately as he looks over at you still resting against his shoulder.

“I care about you guys,” you repeat your words from earlier in the day, noticing how his throat bobs as he swallows his emotions for the time being. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I promise that we will all return to you safe and sound,” Hongjoong smiles softly, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips to place a gentle kiss onto the back of yours.

“You better,” you grin teasingly. “Otherwise, I’ll gut you myself.”

A pleasant shiver races down his spine as his eyes shine. “Is that a promise, My Love?”

“Violent thoughts, remember?” You flick a brow at him, amusement shining in your eyes as you see him mirror your grin.

“But of course,” he leans in to rest his forehead against your own. “How could I ever forget such delightful fantasies of yours?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” the smirk that tugs at the corner of your lips is deadly, and Hongjoong can feel another shiver of pleasure racing down his spine.

“I look forward to the day you allow me to indulge in them with you,” his words are but a gentle caress against your skin, despite the darker undertones of such a lingering promise.

“All in due time, Joong,” you breathe. “All in due time.”

Another hour is spent together conversing softly between each other in the garden, and simply basking in one another’s presence. As soon as the sun begins to set, a calm washes over the both of you, though Hongjoong is a bit disappointed your time together has to end. Still, the fact that you allow him to walk you to your room, hand still held firmly in his own has a feeling unlike any other spreading throughout his entire body.

You do not invite him to stay with you, but you do place another lingering kiss to his cheek as you bid him a goodnight. You do seem slightly more tired than usual, so he doesn’t want to push you any further than you’ve already gone today. You’ve opened yourself up to him in ways he’s only ever dreamed about, and for that, he could not be more grateful, or fall any more in love with you than he already is.

Placing a gentle kiss onto the skin of your knuckles, Hongjoong slowly and reluctantly lets go of your hand. He watches as you retreat into your bedroom for the evening, sending him a final soft smile as you shut the door behind you.

Soon. He tells himself as he begins to make his way back down the hallway and to his own room for the evening. You’ll be falling asleep in his own arms soon.

Hongjoong simply cannot wait for that day to come, and he knows that once it does, it will be all the more sweeter. Today already went better than he could have ever hoped, and the fact that he was able to ease your worries like he did makes him so unbelievably happy. You admitted to him yourself that you’re already starting to fall for him. Now, all there’s left to do is wait, and Hongjoong is more than happy to do so. After all, once you fall, he will be there to catch you with open arms, that all too familiar loving smile on his face when you do.

The skin of his lips begins to tingle as he recalls the feeling of your own pressed against his.

Soon. You will be his soon. He’ll make sure of it, even it it’s the last thing he ever does.

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thewrittingpan · 3 months

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Random Head cannons:

Lilia

I firmly believe that he would have a Mountian Dew addiction- sure I think other sodas are possible too like Dr. Pepper but there’s this “dad clock” that has haunted every divorced father I’ve met and it’s a Mountain Dew clock and it always hangs on the wall where the kitchen meets the dinning table. Don’t ask me why it’s a trend in my life that’s between me and my therapist but I feel that Lilia would probably own one in his gamer room.

Speaking of which he’s got a damn gammer room. I’ve admittedly been out of the loop event and plot wise since the release of ignihide’s chapter (I can not spell forgive my dyslexic ass), but it doesn’t matter if it’s just his bedroom, a whole separate room, a streaming room or not. It has a fancy custom built pc, one that lights up and the whole room is themed to match. It’s very well put together and could probably pay my college tuition with the merchandise he may collect.

I personally think that since Lilia is so old, he tends to hoard things. It obviously snuck into my fic Ring of Mushrooms with just the whole house being a cluttered mess of history. Some of it is me trying not to be a hoarder myself but living nicknack because I am just a bird in a human shape, but he just has a lot of things he forgets about.

Call it time blindness, forgetfulness, or sentimentality but he just keeps pictures, books, gifts, random things his sons have drug into the house or stuffed into their pockets. He has jars of buttons that Malleus collected as a toddler, the shiny rocks Silver picked up by the stream, he’s the type of guy to have a full box of the same pencil because it’s his favorite and there was a rumor it was being discontinued.

I also think that he has a soft spot for pinks and pastels especially when the boys were young. Mint/sage greens were a common choice for blankets, hats, and mittens. He also probably color coded the boys. It doesn’t matter if they were the same age or not just for ease and avoiding fights he totally did.

Lilia probably has a bunch of abandoned hobbies. Things he did long enough to have a humans level of decent but not great. if he were to “relearn” it he would appear to be a savant to a real beginner. Some of these hobbies include: Calligraphy, Crochet, Knitting, Fish lure making, Astronomy, Woodworking

Hobbies he would be bad at:

Drawing/Painting, he has a bad understanding of color but a great eye for depth and detail. The forms are always very off putting though.

He tried birdwatching he isn’t bad at it per se, but he often gets interrupted or caught up in something that is not the birds.

He wanted to do quilting and scapbooking, it’s not that he can’t do them either but he always forgets the projects. The scrapbooks mostly the quilts he has a lot more practice with as baby shower gifts for neighbors and for his own kids. Yet his stiches can be sloppy same with the binding.

He has a fondness for spinel gems he likes the wide array of colors like most gems but he likes a lot of the vibrant pinks they come in

Malleus

I think malleus would have a habit of forgetting to eat if not reminded or brought food. I cannot explain why I think this I just have a hunch.

I think Malleus is great at word puzzles and puzzles in general, it’s not inherently that he’s super smart but he just knows patterns more often than not. However he is quite horrible at pop culture references and trivia. For example he is good at Wordle, Sudoku, crosswords, and connections, but since crosswords and connections often have pop culture references those are the ones he struggles with most.

When he was young he collected things. I mean a lot of things, buttons, pins, rocks, pinecones, leaves, he pressed and dried flowers, half of his room was just wall-to-wall collections. This continued on until now but it’s just gotten more mild, though it flares up during stressful times.

He’s very good at quilting if I had to assign a good trade themed hobby. I’m open to other needle crafts like embroidery or cross-stitch but I think quilting is something that gets done during school breaks and he often sews in former button collections to them.

I think he has an aversion to some kind of food, whether it be things like a texture like he doesn’t like the feeling of bananas or the taste of pees makes him nauseous. I don’t think it’s an allergy or anything just something that physically makes him feel like death is the only solution to the minor inconvenience.

He’s a peridot guy sure emeralds work too but if he’s being honest the peridots are cuter

Silver

One time he had a talking to about throwing sand. He was only three at the time but it had to be revisited after an incident with an ant hill when he was four.

He sleeps in a funeral-showing sort of way. His hands clasped on his chest while he lays on his back. He rarely moves in his sleep, but cheese can cause him to sleep walk.

Speaking of which he has a mild lactose intolerance. He doesn’t care to actively avoid dairy but he often forgets he has it. On many occasions he has eaten too much dairy and was genuinely confused by the way he was having tummy troubles.

He cries at weddings.

He doesn’t cry at funerals.

Silver has this hobby of wanting to bird hunt but falls asleep too often. He does however have some half okay drawing skills. Enough to have an upper hand in Pictionary maybe but a good hand on proportions and the details are messy but it works.

He has a fondness for pearls it’s the type of jewelry he thinks is the most beautiful.

#fanfiction #twst #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland #headcannons #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #twst silver #twisted wonderland silver #headcanon

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fanandfiction · 2 years

Text

Shotgunning W/ Arcane Characters

A/n: So what I’m the last person on earth to watch Arcane? I do have a pea brain and dyslexia so if anything feels inconsistent I apologize. I’m trying to write as gender neutral as possible :’0 but ya know nice and constructive feedback is always welcome! This has not been proof read so please spare me.

Feel free to request anything- my ask box is open!

Prompt: Arcane characters shotgunning with their S/O

Characters: Silco and Sevika (Separately)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ MNDI, Language, Smoking, Kissing, Gambling, Tobacco, Illicit Drug (not shimmer)

Silco:

“Staring is a bad habit little bird,” Silco’s monotone voice startled you out of a trance you had unknowingly fallen into.

You can’t say you were surprised you were caught, your general curiosity often got the better of you. You’re known to stare off into space and wander, it’s a surprise Silco’s not got you on a leash yet.

Recently something about the way Silco looked while smoking was just mesmerizing to you. Maybe it was how peaceful he looked as he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and took a drag from his cigar. Or the deep guttural groan he’d sometimes let out as he exhaled clouds of smoke after a frustrating business meeting.

Regardless of the reason, you quickly avert your gaze and mumble a quick apology, hoping he doesn’t say anything else.

“What has enamored your attention now dove?” Even as he so rudely and blatantly did precisely what you wished he hadn’t, he had a cigar hanging from his lips. He didn’t have to look so good while making you feel so small.

Well, it couldn’t be avoided now.

“Y-Your cigar,” You feebly confessed, swallowing every ounce of your pride in the process. “I was watching you smoke.”

Finally, he looked up from his paperwork to you, intrigue spread across his face. A raised eyebrow was your only cue to elaborate.

“I was wondering if I could maybe try?”

Now was as good as any other time you could ask, you supposed.

“Hm?” He removed the cigar from his mouth and looked back and forth between you and it through half-closed eyes.

“Come here,” He said firmly after pondering for a while. Your heart began to race immediately sending waves of warmth throughout your body and to your center.

“I can’t let you smoke from this, no. It's far too big for such a delicate bird like you,” he started, sitting you in his lap. A disappointed look quickly overcame your face.

“I do have something else in mind, however,” he took a long draw from his cigar and took your face into his other hand. Your face was on fire, there was no way he couldn’t feel it. “Don’t fret.”

“Closer, dove,” his voice was nearly a whisper.

When your lips met he gently blew the smoke into your mouth. You swallowed every bit of it, to you it was as if he was giving you your last breath.

His lips were warm on yours and the taste of mint invaded your tastebuds. The smoke sweetly burned your throat as you inhaled and the head rush made you feel light-headed in the best way possible. Oh how you wished there were a way to save this moment and relive it over and over again.

“How was that my dove?” He asked upon pulling away.

“Good.” you exhaled, the remaining smoke leaving your lungs as you did.

Not that he needed to ask, the way your body had succumbed to him told him what he needed to know.

Sevika:

You spent most of your nights on Sevikas arm as she played cards. You’d sip on the fruitiest cocktail the Last Drop had to offer and your girlfriend would spend the night giving everyone a run for their money.

And while that's always fun, your eyes and mind tend to wander after a while of drinking. The relationship between Sevika and you could hardly be described as healthy most nights. Sevika knew she couldn’t trust you enough not to get yourself into trouble, hence why you were always sitting in her lap or next to her with an arm draped around your waist or shoulder. Too many times you’d wander out of her sight and she’d find you with your ass pressed against some loser trying to “teach” you how to play pool.

She had no interest in those toxic games tonight so you were sitting right next to her with your legs crossed over one of her spred legs. Frankly You had no intrest in games tonight either, but you couldn’t help feel a little playful after a few drinks so your eyes had begun wandering for entertainment.

They found interest in the lit cigarillo hanging uncerimoniously from Sevika’s mouth. Whatever it was packed with burned a deep blue that had you stuck in a trance. Occasionally when she took too long pondering her cards ash would fall from the tip and onto your shoes, but you didn’t mind as your eyes would follow the movement using it as an opportunity to shamelessly look her up and down. It didn’t take Sevika too long to notice you staring almost hungrily in her peripheral.

“Whats caught your eye, kitten?” She asked. She didn’t look up from her cards but a rough hand found your thigh to let you know you had her attention.

“Your cigarillo,” you sigh leaning into her. “Can I try?”

Sevika hummed pondering your question she momentarily leaned over to lay a card down. When she leans back she gives your thigh a gentle squeeze almost teasingly before lifting her hand to remove the cigarillo from her mouth.

“You wanna try?” She asks showing you the lit butt. You nod eagerly ready to take it, but before you can she put it back in her mouth. “Ah ah ah.”

You pout.

“Poor kitten,” She mocked whilst taking a rather large drag. The cards in her other hand had disappeared, and when it came to cradle your face you nearly began purring. “Well c’mere then.”

When your lips met you could immediately recognize the heat pooling deep within you and it only spread when she pushed smoke into you mouth. You swallowed every bit of smoke that she offered and immediately felt it rush to your head. It was so dizzying, you had to hold onto her to steady yourself. Somehow when she pulled away you managed to inhale through your nose and then quickly out mouth.

“Good kitten,” She hummed “Is that what you wanted? Hmm?”

You looked up at her though half closed eyelids, the effect of blue cigarillo hitting you immediately. With your body unfamiliar with the effects of the blue leaf you were feeling so overwhelmed and couldn’t do much beside fall into her chest when she offered it to you. No longer caring if you caught the attention of other bar-goers because you’re too comfortable, you allowed yourself to relax.

“Mmhmm.” You sighed as her metal arm wrapped around you cementing you in you place for the night.

#arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane sevika #silco #silco x reader #silco x you #sevika x y/n #silco x y/n #headcanon #arcane headcanon #league of legends #league of legends headcanons #arcane x reader #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral mc

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sassyhobbits · 3 years

Note

rowaelin with their first child and they get into that stranger anxiety phase and cry with everyone except when they're in their mothers arms and it's exhausting but also adorable but rowan sometimes feels like a bad dad because his kid doesn't want to be held by him so aelin has to reassure him and then some day this phase is finally over - prompt 😢🥺

ok i adored writing this one. dad rowan is so much fun to work with. i hope everyone enjoys!!

~~~

In his over 300 years, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius had been awoken by many different things. Whether it was a call to battle while sleeping in a war tent, a summons from his queen late at night, or a lover trying unsuccessfully to disappear quietly before dawn. Yet, none of these manners of waking up had filled him with as much dread as he felt currently.

He was woken in the middle of the night by a shrill shriek coming from the room that adjoined the one he shared with Aelin. In the recent months, what had once been a leisure room had been converted to a nursery for their new baby girl.

It took three years after Aelin’s coronation before they decided to start trying to have a child. It took another year before they were successful. Rowan counted his blessings. He had seen plenty of Fae couples take decades before they finally conceived.

Eliora was four months old now, which meant four months of troubled sleep for both him and his mate.

Rowan was instantly on alert at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He knew that they were no more than a normal babe’s troubles, but his instincts made him tense anyways. He quickly sat up, looking down at his wife quickly to see if she had woken up. Luckily, she still slept, likely beyond exhausted from the mix of raising a child and ruling a kingdom. If Rowan was successful, she wouldn’t have to wake up at all.

He got out of bed and swiftly stepped into the nursery, coming before Eliora’s crib. Her tiny face was pinched up in dainty outrage, small limbs flailing as she cried. Rowan took a deep breath, sending a prayer up to the gods more out of habit than faith at this point, and picked his daughter from the crib. Hopefully, this would be the time he could get her to stop crying.

The little princess shrieked and protested whenever she was in anyone’s arms besides her mother’s. Rowan’s included.

“I’ve got you, my little light,” Rowan whispered to his daughter, cradling her tiny body to his bare chest and lowering himself onto the rocking chair they kept beside her crib. “Everything’s alright.”

Despite his soothing words, Eliora still continued to cry. It broke Rowan’s heart to hear, broke it even more to know that nothing he did could seem to calm her down.

“Please stop crying, love,” Rowan pleaded, threading his fingers through the fine, silvery-blonde hair growing on his daughter’s head. “Your mother is so tired and needs her sleep.”

Unfortunately, even begging didn’t seem to work.

Over the sounds of Eliora’s cries, he heard the door hinges creek, and the sound of bare feet scuffing over stone. Rowan glanced over, finding Aelin walking towards him. Exhaustion weighed down her beautiful face, but her eyes were still full of fondness at the sight of the two of them.

Rowan looked to her apologetically before his face crumpled in defeat. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love,” she whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Give her to me.”

Rowan handed the squirming bundle of blankets to his wife. Aelin situated their daughter in her arms before she lowered herself on Rowan’s lap, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist, press a kiss to her shoulder, and begin to rock them.

Quickly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away. Her face unscrewed, looking at Aelin with those wide, Ashryver eyes that she had.

Aelin began to sing a low, Terrasenian lullaby as he continued to rock the three of them. It never ceased to amaze him how good she was with their daughter, how quickly she was able to sooth her temper. He only wished that he could do the same, that Eliora would look at him the same way she looked at Aelin and not scream and scream and scream.

Rowan’s heart was full of love as he watched Eliora’s eyes begin to droop shut at the soothing rocking motion and the sound of her mother’s voice. It wasn’t long before she was once again asleep, the night perfectly silent.

Rowan helped Aelin stand, keeping a hand against her back as she brought their daughter back to her crib and laid her down. Perfect. She truly was perfect.

A gentle hand on his arm drew his attention away from the slumbering babe. Aelin nodded her head towards their room and Rowan dutifully followed, shutting the door quietly behind them.

“I’m sorry, Fireheart,” Rowan said again, drawing Aelin into his arms and kissing her forehead. “I know you’re exhausted.”

“No more so than you.”

Rowan could only sigh, pressing his lips together tightly. His emotions were troubled, and he should have known that Aelin was going to notice. She leaned back slightly, peering up at his face.

“I know what you’re thinking, Rowan, and you’re wrong,” she said matter-of-factly.

Rowan wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help but ask, “What am I doing wrong?”

He had faced many challenges over his years. Wars and battles and tortures. He had survived them all and came out victorious. And yet, the thing that brought him to his knees, was the fact that he couldn’t bring comfort to his own daughter when she needed it. A baby had finally defeated him.

“You know you’re not doing anything wrong,” Aelin said firmly. “The nurses said this happens sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

Rowan had heard this what felt like a thousand times. It did little to soothe his troubles.

Rowan was good at many things. He was a warrior and a general, had stepped confidently into the role of king consort. His hands could kill and heal and build, but they couldn’t get Eliora to stop crying. He couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, being a father… wasn’t something that he was made for.

It broke his heart to think. He remembered how excited he was when they found out Aelin was finally pregnant, how they cried and kissed and clung to each other, whispering about the future. He had been ecstatic, but also terrified. He knew Aedion, who had welcomed his own son into the world a year before Aelin got pregnant, had felt the same before he was born. But, Aedion hadn’t had the troubles Rowan did. He had stepped into fatherhood gracefully, and his son loved him immensely.

“Hey,” Aelin said, a bit snappily. She put her hand on Rowan’s cheek and urged him to look at her. In those eyes was a familiar fire. “Stop that. I know what’s going through your head. You’re a wonderful father.”

Rowan sighed and hung his head, pressing Aelin’s hand more firmly against his cheek. “How can I be a good father if I have no idea what I’m doing?”

“Do you think I’m a bad mother?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Aelin said. “Neither did Aedion or Lysandra. No new parent has any idea what they’re doing. It’s part of the job.”

She made it sound so easy. Aelin had always had a knack for that.

“I wonder if there’s some secret behind it,” Rowan mused as Aelin tucked herself back into his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso.

He felt his wife shrug. “I don’t know… but if there was, I think it would be to love them. To support them. To do everything in our power to make sure they’re happy.”

“I love Eliora more than life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“I know, love.” Aelin rolled on the tips of her toes and brushed a soft kiss against Rowan’s mouth. “Now, all you need to do is have patience.”

He chuckled. “Look at you. Who would have ever guessed that Aelin Galathynius would be lecturing me on patience.”

Her grin was a slash of white in the dark. “I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years.”

“Who the hell has ever told you that?”

“People. Now, will you come back to bed with me?”

“Of course, Fireheart.”

They climbed back under the covers, pressing their bodies close. Aelin fell back asleep almost comically quickly. Rowan wasn’t far behind, holding his wife tightly throughout the night.

…

Another month went by and little changed. Both Rowan and his wife were getting little sleep during the night, leading to some groggy mornings. He had seen Aelin taking short naps at her desk or dozing off when an advisor spoke for too long. She would, of course, deny it if Rowan ever brought it up, so he wisely stayed silent.

Eliora still abhorred being held by anyone except Aelin. The fact that it wasn’t just him brought Rowan a bit of solace. His daughter cried when held by Lysandra or Fenrys or Elide. She had a particularly nasty meltdown last time Lorcan had held her.

“I know, sweet girl,” Aelin had murmured, taking Eliora from Lorcan. “I wouldn’t want to be that close to him either.”

Still, Eliora’s reactions didn’t deter Rowan from trying to hold and soothe her, though he had not yet been victorious. Patience, Aelin had said. It was easier said than done.

The sun had set below the Staghorns hours ago. Eliora was asleep in the nursery, Aelin was treating herself to a long soak in the tub, and Rowan sat in one of the plush armchairs they kept in their room, sharpening and polishing some of his blades.

It was an easy practice to get lost in. The simple, repetitive movements were a welcome distraction. A good way to cool down before bed.

However, his hands froze when he heard a tiny whimper sound from the nursery that quickly morphed into a shrill cry. Eliora.

Rowan placed his blades down on the low table before him, pushing to his feet and quickly striding into the nursery.

Eliora was wiggling as she wailed. Rowan wished he could read her mind so he knew exactly what was bothering her and how he could help. But, all he could do was take a deep, bracing breath and scoop his daughter into his arms.

“What’s wrong, little light?” Rowan whispered, carrying her over to the rocking chair. “What is it?”

Eliora’s only response was to continue crying.

Rowan sighed, wondering how much longer he had before Aelin got out of the bath and came in to calm Eliora down. He had seen Aelin do it countless times. She would take Eliora into her arms, smile down at her, start to whisper nonsense or sing a low lullaby. She made it seem so easy.

“Everything’s alright, Eliora,” Rowan murmured, switching to the Old Language. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, little love.”

And then, something amazing happened.

Slowly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away to a whimper and then, to nothing at all. Rowan held his breath, worrying that one wrong move would put her back into a fit of hysterics. His daughter slowly opened her eyes and peered up at him.

Rowan smiled down at her. “You’re just as lovely as your mother. Just as stubborn, too.”

And then, as if she understood his little joke, Eliora flashed him a gummy smile. The shift in expression floored him. She had never given him a smile before.

Rowan felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to burn, but he smiled back at the tears welled up. A tiny laugh escaped his throat. Finally, finally, he had done it.

Eliora’s chubby arms reached up. Rowan held out a finger, letting her wrap a tiny hand around it. He always forgot just how small she was.

“I love you more than you could possibly know, Eliora.”

He was too distracted by his daughter and the little grip she had on his finger to notice that Aelin had entered the nursery until she was almost upon them. Rowan looked up at his wife, knowing that his eyes were still watery and there were likely tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. Regardless, he beamed.

“It would seem, once again, that I was right,” Aelin said with a triumphant smirk.

“As you often are, my love.”

She laughed and dropped a kiss to his forehead before draping her arms over his shoulders, leaning over and watching their daughter, who was studying them with wide eyes. Once again, Eliora smiled. Rowan would never tire of the sight.

“She looks like you when she smiles,” Aelin mused.

“You think?”

She nodded slowly, reaching out and running her knuckles along the smooth curve of Eliora’s cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s ours. She’s just so… perfect.”

“Like her mother.”

Aelin snorted. “Kiss ass.”

“Maybe a little.”

They faded into silence, simply standing there, wrapped up in their little, blossoming family. They stood there until Eliora’s eyes fluttered shut once more and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. One she enjoyed for the entirety of the night.

Rowan didn’t know what he had done to deserve such bliss, but he knew it must have been something good.

#every time i write a baby fic im like #is it obvious that i know next to nothing about babies #rowaelin #my writing #tog

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bonny-kookoo · 3 years

Text

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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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Text

Chrysalis

Yandere!Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount:2115

CW:Yandere themes

Working for Albedo isn’t that bad - the payment is good, the knowledge he provides is even better - a chance to delve into exclusive alchemical research with a widely acknowledged genius is a far more valuable award than any amount of mora or jewels could ever be. Said prodigy isn’t an awful person to work with either - he’s polite and well mannered, careful not to offend anyone even if his words can be cold and cutting sometimes. Most of the time Albedo is a pleasant company to be around, if one would turn a blind eye to his quirks.

For instance, he has a weird and frankly unnerving habit of staring at you - his teal eyes track your littlest movements as you set up an alchemical apparatus and prepare needed solutions. At first you thought he was overseeing you, checking if you had made any mistake as a fledgling alchemist, yet this hypothesis was quickly disproved when you caught him gazing off working hours. You never voiced your complaints - you wanted to keep your job and study, and maybe he is too socially blind to see how his behavior could be received by others.

Today would also be a great example of an alchemist's lack of tact - he requested you accompany him everywhere for the last few weeks, taking you from the cold heights of Dragonspine to sunny and bustling streets of Mondstadt. You two are sitting in the corner of his laboratory designed for rest and food and share a meal: two portions of his favorite fish, despite being nothing more than the employer and employee or teacher and student.

Albedo doesn’t seem to get or mind what kind of rumours he causes with this seemingly blatant favouritism before you, no he looks as calm as usual as he plunges into the dish with fork and knife.

“[First]”, he says, after the first bite: “Have the aches stopped bothering you?”, a hint of concern and something else. Two or three weeks ago you developed a strange soreness in the different parts of your body - wrists, neck, heart, legs - it would appear suddenly, burning and throbbing and making you gasp, leaving you tired and nauseous afterwards. No one could find the source of the problem, not even Albedo, yet after some time these far from pleasant sensations got subdued, easier to bear and endure.

His hand reaches for your left wrist, thumb caressing the skin, and he pulls it closer to his face, eyes examining the sore spot. You don’t protest, stunned by his sudden action.

“Hm, that’s”, he mumbles, more to himself than you: “that’s good”, he concludes, letting go of your limb.

“What’s good? Did something change?” you inquire, instantly forgetting to take offense at his grabbing.

“You could say that”, Albedo ambiguously says and returns to his fish. You ask the alchemist what he meant, but all you get are even vaguer answers and long silence in the end, as he finishes his meal and nudges you to start your own sunshine sprat.

In the end your questions remain unacknowledged, as Albedo leaves displaying you to accompany him. Surprisingly he heads for the gardens instead of the library, his step light and fast. “Master Albedo” you start, seeing that alchemist is in his creative mood again: “shouldn’t you bring an easel or sketchbook with you?”

“No, [First], I don’t intend to draw, not now. This walk is for me to get some inspiration”, Albedo quickly replies, still walking ahead: “In this time of year the environment changes so rapidly, it provides a mind with a lot of good ideas. You should come with me too, alchemy is a science of change, creation and destruction and nature is better at these three aspects than any of us”. He adds, seemingly sensing the next question you would ask.

He walks near the bushes, teal eyes focused on the blooming fragrant flowers, before he squats, pushing some of the wigs back.

“[First]”, he turns his head in your direction: “you should come and see”. You comply, curious what has caught Albedo’s attention, squatting near him and looking at one of the inner branches usually hidden by others.

It’s an ordinary dark cocoon. You almost turn your head again, before the slightest of movements catches your attention - it’s an insect trying to break out. Chrysalis cracks and deforms as a fledgling butterfly makes way past it’s confines. One second and it stretches its wings, revealing a vibrant blue coloration, the next it leaves it’s former cell entirely, elegantly soaring into the air, it’s azure wings lazily flapping, as it makes its way to the other bush.

“Fascinating”, Albedo breathes out, eyes still on the disappearing figure of the insect: “It transformed to such a great extent”.

You hear a hint of excitement in his voice - he wants to share his thoughts or knowledge then - and nod, prompting him to continue.

“Did you know that a larva needs to literally dissolve itself to reach the next stage of its life? After caterpillar finishes its cocoon, it produces enzymes that turn most of its tissue into a liquid matter and only after that does it rebuilds into an entirely new form”, he turns his gaze back to you, usually cold and thoughtful eyes now warm and dreamy: “Sometimes, I think humans are meant to metamorphose too”.

“How so?” you ask, tilting the head.

“Humans, despite all complexity and intelligence, are still fragile creatures. They’re prone to sickness and ailments and in the end old age ends those who managed to evade death before. Wouldn't it be better if one could go through metamorphosis, be reborn free from pain and hunger and constant threat of passing away? Those humans could live on forever and dedicate themselves to the higher cause without having to worry about dying and suffering".

You raise eyebrows, surprised by the sudden “outburst” - Albedo, despite his partially philosophical nature, has never shared his inner thoughts so freely, not to you at least. He, either out of embarrassment or deep contemplation, shifts his eyes somewhere behind you, and you turn back, following his eyes. He looks at the statue of Barbatos.

Tall and proud, it looks magnificent in the day’s sunlight, golden rays making it glow and shine with the fairness of the marble. Looking at this epitome of unchanging vision, you suddenly get an answer to Albedo’s thoughts and you voice it out the same second:

“Wouldn’t it negate the meaning of life then? Nature breeds diversity - the reason why we have so many flowers is because some kinds aren't adapted to particular conditions and so they change, producing entirely new types of plants. Eternal and undying beings, unconcerned with the earthly matters would have no need to reproduce and pass on its features to the next generation, depriving the world of thousand possible combinations. No new life would be created if the old one could be perfectly sustained".

"That's how you see it", Albedo replies, placing a now empty husk of the cocoon inside your palm - the testament of the nature’s miracle, the testament of one's ability to change: “I’ve witnessed many wonderful sights for today”, he adds, still looking at you, surrounded by flowers and flying butterflies, light breeze playing with your hair and sun illuminating your whole figure with a gentle golden glow.

You part with Albedo shortly after - he closes himself in the lab, before checking up on your sore spots again, quietly mumbling something to himself the whole time. You head for your house and open the alchemical textbook, studying it until late night. That place on the wrist slightly throbs at every movement.

Only when your eyelids fill up with lead and thoughts slow down from the general fatigue you allow yourself to head for the bed, falling asleep the second your head touches the pillow. You see phantasmagorical dreams - of you being a bulging and large larva, spending days simply eating green leaves, until a strange urge overcomes your entire being and you start to build something - a cocoon. Now, surrounded by pitch black darkness you feel a burning sensation - enzymes, enzymes that will dissolve your tissue. Pain quickly escalates and you want to scream and cry, but you can’t - you’re an insect you don’t have vocal glands or tear ducts to do so. Who could have known that butterflies suffer so much?

You writhe and squirm, caged by your liquifying body and hard chrysalis around you and you are in so much agony you want to die.

And then you wake up. All sweaty and distressed you grab at your wrist - it hurts so much, your entire body is on fire, it seems that you have another episode of that strange soreness. You quickly rise to your feet, snatching the painkillers from the nightstand and downing them with a gulp of water. As medicine begins it’s work you lay in the bed again, ready to fall asleep and forget the midnight pains, as you see something that makes your breath hitch and heartbeat fasten from fear.

A strange greyish white discoloration on your wrist in the same place that used to throb this evening. You touch it and it leaves a dry white imprint on your fingers, it also doesn’t have any strange smell.

You rise and quickly dress up, barely suppressed panic and anxiety dispelling the last remains of sleep. The walk towards the Favonius HQ’s is short, especially when you break into a sprint on the way. He is here, he is working into the night today. Quickly passing sleepy knights you climb on the second floor and almost run to one particular door, loudly knocking at it.

Just as you expected, there’s a sound of footsteps and soon a familiar voice asks: “Who is here?”.

“It’s me, master Albedo”, you say, feeling how the pain returns despite the painkillers taken: “you said to report if something changes, with my aches. It changed”.

The words you say and desperation accompanying them prompts alchemist to open the door, as he gestures you to come in, and shut the door as you do so:

“Strip”, he says, mind back to the analytical mode, you comply, feeling ashamed with every second Albedo continues to observe you: “Wait, there’s something on your neck”.

A cool touch to your skin, a short yelp, another burst of pain. You fall on your knees, blinded and deafened by sheer agony. Alchemist produces a distressed noise, walking up to your collapsed figure and carrying you to the nearby table.

He pushes alchemical apparatus away, turning the table into a makeshift bed, and gently lowers you down. “[First]”, his hand card through your hair, while the other nudges a mug with some brew to your lips: “There’s nothing to worry about, your metamorphosis progresses as it should be”.

“Metamorphosis.. What are you talking about?”, you ask, panic creeping into the question. Alchemist looks you straight into the eyes, an eerie smile blooming on his face as he hears it: "Isn’t it obvious? You're going to change and I will help you with that".

“Change?! Change into what?”

“Into a better version of human of course. Do you think I would let you get old or sick and die? You’re too dear to me to do that, you should live and experience a life free from human limitations”, for the first time in your life you’re terrified of him. Albedo always seemed so knowledgeable and calm to you, like a wise wizard from the childhood fairytales, yet now he looks mad and devoid of any humanity:“You shouldn’t worry about these stains, they will disappear once your transformation is complete. Those are just chalk you see, a side effect of your tissues changing over the weeks”.

“When did.. When did you start it?”, you croak out, sensing the agony returning and growing again. It hurts so much I can barely think.

“Dragonspine. You were eating with me”.

You want to insult and accuse him, yet another wave of pain renders you speechless, short huffs and whimpers escaping you as tears start to stream down your face.

“I understand it can be very stressful to you, given how change of this scale is always carrying a great risk”, his voice adopts the same philosophical tone: “The purpose of cocoon is protection of the soon-to-be butterfly from the external harm and influence that could lead to other complications and we don’t want any of that”.

He cards his hand through your hair again, a mockery of a concern dyeing his next words: “You shouldn’t worry, I will be a good chrysalis to your metamorphosis”.

You black out from pain.

#yandere albedo x reader #Yandere Albedo #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #Yandere genshin #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Male yandere #Yandere x reader #Yandere #male yandere #my writing

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bottoms-movie · 3 years

Text

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS PT. 2

The first part did really really so I decided to make a second part of sambucky fic recs. Just as the last one: the fics are split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. CHECK OUT PART ONE HERE All fics are completed and all are on AO3.

BASED ON TFATWS

The Truths Beneath Our Ribs | Mature | 6,742 words

5 times Bucky wears Sam's things +1 time Sam wears something of Bucky's

anything you can do, i’ll do you better | Explicit | 5,526 words

Steve is going to kill them if they don't learn to get along, but did they have to take it so far?

making amends | Explicit | 8,645 words

“Not Cap yet,” Sam said. He looked a little ruefully at his hands, which were covered in nicks and cuts. He could already feel his palms bruising from that last shield catch, but at least nothing was broken this time.

“I respect that,” Bucky said slowly. Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. Bucky flexed and unflexed the vibranium fingers of his left hand, a nervous habit that Sam had clocked ages ago. “And you’re right.”

“Thanks, I know.” Sam waited a beat. “About what?”

Barnes sighs, and it’s a deep, soul-weary thing. “Maybe no one ever told you this, but I’m telling you right now. You don’t have any obligation to care about me because Steve did. You don’t have to pretend.”

Sam blinks, taken aback. He has to think, really think, about what he says next, because it’s - it’s either going to build or break something.

You’re My World | Explicit | 6,585 words

“I… oh, I get it now.” Sam tilted his head, perceptive as ever, goddammit. “All this flirting with my sister, that was just to get my attention, wasn’t it? I know it was. Say it.”

“That wasn’t—” Bucky croaked, but Sam wasn’t having it.

He huffed a low laugh, and bulldozed right through Bucky’s feeble pretense. “You like it when I pin you against the wall? Take away all that power you have, that strength that your arm gives you? Make you feel small, maybe?”

Call Me By Your (Pet) Name | Teen | 6,928 words

“You got a list of the nicknames available to us lesser mortals?” Sam continued, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him. “The ‘you’re not Steve Rogers, so don’t even think about it’ collection?”

“Yeah, sure, there’s a list,” Bucky replied, pausing long enough to draw a pointed look from Sam. “Bucky,” he finished, gesturing broadly with his arm to convey the obviousness of the answer.

5 times Sam and Bucky used pet names as a joke + 1 time they used them in earnest

That’s not very gunkle of you | 2 parts | 4,325 words part 1: Bestie Vibes Only | Teen | 1,822 words

“What’s buzzin’ cousin?” Says Bucky, sitting down next to Sam on the docks.

That’s the moment that Sam realizes he needs to change tactics, no more subtly looking up definitions for his weird old person slang, it’s time to fight fire with fire.

“Not much bro, this view is highkey just hitting different TBH” he says, casually looking out at the water.

There’s a beat of silence and then,

“That’s swell doll, I just ate some four-o cackle jelly with side arms, and I’m looking for some kicks, you dig?

Oh, this means war.

misunderstandings | Not Rated | 3,167 words

Sam thinks Sarah and Bucky had a date, and he's Not Okay

you walked into my life to offer me a better view | Teen | 2,534 words

He was standing twenty feet away at the edge of the docks, chatting with Sarah, and Sam couldn't take his eyes away. Bucky's smile was warm, wide, and when he tipped his head back and laughed, his nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling at the corners, Sam could feel it vibrate straight to his heart.

falling, falling, flying | Teen | 2,778 words

Bucky had kissed him.

And Sam had pulled away, because that beautiful golden sunset made Bucky’s hair gleam with the faintest touch of blond, that rare summer breeze hissed like a dying missile past Sam’s ears, the kiss was so familiar, too familiar, and Sam was falling, falling—

(“Let yourself be happy, Sam. Please.”)

lonely boy, you are my world (and i could be anything you need) | Teen | 5,747 words

It all starts with Sam, a shelter, and this sweet kitten that reminded him far too much of a certain century-old, grouchy super soldier.

too dangerous to fall | Explicit | 3,466 words

Bucky Barnes is a one-armed menace. He has murder eyes and no care for basic safety protocols. His jokes are terrible and his bad moods are worse. He’s a godawful roommate who leaves his wet towels on the floor and his combat knives in the linen cabinet. Sam can’t stand the sight of him.

What happens in Louisiana | General | 3,478 words

But just then, in the engine room of the Wilson family boat, away from prying eyes, it felt like something they both needed. The closeness. The warmth.

Steve would laugh at them. Two grown men not being able to get it together. He would roll his eyes at Buck, nudge him with his elbow and tell him “you’re sweet on Sam Wilson so make a move already, punk.”

keep the ashes from my heart (and walk away) | Explicit | 4,412 words

“Jamie asked me out on a date,” Sam says. Bucky swallows. “Took him long enough,” he says, keeping his tone light. He bumps their shoulders together for good measure. “You should go for it.” “You really think so?” Sam asks, looking at him. “Yeah, man,” Bucky says. He fixes his gaze on Torres, high up in the sky, sunlight glinting off his wings. It hurts Bucky’s eyes. He blinks, rapidly. “You should be with somebody who can make you happy.”

(In which Sam starts dating someone who is not Bucky, and Bucky pines, gets seriously injured, and proves himself wrong.)

Hey Samuel | Teen | 3,223 words

"Bucky."

"Yeah?" He looked up eyes wide. Did he say something out loud?

"We're walking the wrong way."

"Oh." Right. Um. "Let's get ice cream."

"I don't know about you, man, but if I eat ice cream in this weather I will get sick."

Bucky was at a loss for words. What now?

OR Ride along Bucky's journey of figuring out when exactly did he fall for Sam Wilson.

Anyday, everyday | General | 6,735 words

He moved his head and locked eyes with Sam. "D'you- can you.. help me cut my hair?" He asked. He forced himself to look away, feeling embarrassed for asking him to come all this way just to give him a haircut.

His stomach dropped when he felt Sam let go of his hand to stand up. Of course he was about to leave. Who wouldn't want to leave Bucky?

"C'mon, Buck. Let me cut your hair." Bucky's eyes snapped up to Sam's. He had a small smile on his face and his hand was reaching out, waiting for Bucky to take it.

Or; the five times Bucky fell more and more in love with Sam, and the one time he finally got the guts to tell him.

If You’ll Have Me | Teen | 4,779 words

Sam casually shrugged, although there was an intent look in his eyes, "Yeah, well it's getting late and I didn't feel like flying anymore so I was wondering if your old man self is okay with-"

"You can stay here." Bucky quickly finished for him.

I like Bucky, Sam I am | Not Rated | 2,653 words

"I would kiss you on the boat. Or in Wakanda by your goats."

Static in the Dark | Teen | 4,989 words

So prompt idea, some bad guy follows Bucky to the docks for revenge (over whatever you can decide) and Sarah gets to see how protective Bucky really is over Sam when he gets in the line of fire

CANON DIVERGENCE

A Different Kind of Problem | Explicit | 7,616 words

“Do you know what it feels like to be insatiable?”

Two months ago, an interrogation gone wrong left Sam with Bucky’s explicit words seared into his brain and body.

Now, Bucky is living in the Avengers Compound, making pancakes and wearing Steve’s huge sweatshirts, fluffy haired and a little shy, seemingly completely content to be on house arrest — and Sam has never been more confused. Whatever Steve thinks, Sam doesn’t have a problem with Bucky. This domesticity is just so at odds with the feral sexuality Bucky had used to rattle Sam during his interrogation. Where did that side of Bucky go? And why can’t Sam stop thinking about finding it? Maybe Sam does have a problem with Bucky… it’s just not the problem Steve thinks it is.

Bucky’s Choice | Not Rated | 4,753 words

When Bucky enters Westview to try to help Wanda Maximoff, he is confronted with something he never expected- Steve Rogers, back from the dead and ready to start a life with Bucky in Westview. It's everything that Bucky ever wanted, everything that Steve abandoned when he went back in time to live his life with Peggy Carter. But Bucky and Sam have been involved for months, and Sam is waiting for Bucky outside of the Hex. Bucky has to make a choice- the life he always wanted with Steve, or a new start with Sam?

tonight i’ll need you to stay | General | 2,227 words

For once, Bucky wants to stop leaving when things are finally looking up. And he wants people to stay with him, too.

(or, 3 times bucky needed an excuse to stay with sam, and the one time he didn't)

How to Win a Supersoldier in Ten Days | Explicit | 14,901 words

When they realize that all the Winter Soldier's interactions with Sam are just him trying to Awkward MurderBot Flirt (TM) with the sexy man, Steve, Tony, and Nat convince Sam to play the honeypot and bring Bucky in.

Sam's pretty sure the honeypot isn't supposed to fall in love with the target, but what can you do?

at the end of the war (what’s mine is yours) | Mature | 4,290 words

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

warm blood (feels good, i can’t control it anymore) | Explicit | 4,492 words

Sam's just chilling watching TV one evening when Bucky comes in and stares at him silently for a minute or two before sitting down on the couch. He's pretty close to Sam.

Okay, he's really close to Sam. Like, Sam would be using the word 'cuddling' if it wasn't so bizarre.

"What," he says, carefully not looking at Bucky, and Bucky huffs a sigh.

"Steve's not here," he says as if it's obvious. "Don't make it weird. Just- shut up."

Caught With Their Pants Down | Explicit | 3,539 words

“Sam, this guy is not coming, the intel was false,” Bucky replied. “I get this whole ticking boxes and what not, but Rogers got it wrong, and for the love of God I need a fucking toilet.”

“You need to learn to plan your water intake better, is what you need. You’re a damn fool and I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” Bucky replied, and Sam could hear the smile in his voice.

“In your damn dreams, Barnes.”

They’d been fucking for about six months, but Sam didn’t want Bucky to go getting a big head about it.

sharp teeth, soft heart | 3 parts | 17,866 words part 1: you touch me within and so i (know i could be human once again) | Explicit | 12,444 words

It’s inevitable, the way it goes. He’s my friend, Steve says, and he is, he is, he must be. Sam’s best friend is Steve, and Steve’s best friend is a werewolf, that’s just how Sam’s life works now.

But once he realizes he’s attracted to Bucky and Bucky can tell, everything becomes, like, a thousand percent more difficult to negotiate. Sam’s just trying to live his life, that’s all, and he keeps getting confronted by Bucky Barnes in a soft flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair all soft and shiny. Bucky glances over at him and smirks, and this is really very embarrassing, how Sam can’t hide his attraction even if he keeps a totally straight face.

I’m so into you I can barely breathe | Explicit | 6,515 words

Sam Wilson had a long day dealing with morons, so he decided to finally go to the famous club in town. There he meets someone who just might get him back in a good mood. And then some.

twelve ounce steak (boxers in briefs) | Explicit | 3,753 words

Sam has pretty lips. Bucky seems to think so, too.

caught it bad (i’ll be on the way) | Mature | 4,830 words

Sam constantly gets roped into doing dumb things with Steve, but this time, it works out perfectly for him.

meet me in the a.m. | Teen | 3,147 words

Steve accidently starts a fire and Bucky's tired. When unbelievably hot firefighter Sam saves the day, though, he can't really be that mad.

i wanna savour, save it for later | Not Rated | 6,419 words

"It's his damn ratings, man," Sam says. "It's weird 'cause when you read the reviews, he seems to like our food and all. Nothing but praise for days. And then you get to the rating, and it's always the same. Three goddamn stars."

Bucky tips his beer bottle from side to side, lips pursing slightly. "I see. And that's… a bad thing?"

"We are not a three-star joint," Sam says flatly.

Or, the one where food truck owner Sam gets caught up in his quest to unmask an anonymous food blogger. Falling for one of his regulars was never on the menu.

we were a fire with no smoke | Explicit | 15,295 words

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

my house of stone, your ivy grows | Teen | 9,042 words

When Sam Wilson inherits the manor of the old man he once took care of, it feels like his luck is finally looking up. It's an opportunity for a fresh start, something he's in desperate need of. When he arrives, however, it becomes clear that an easy transition into estate living is not exactly a possibility. The house is run-down, nothing like Sam remembers it, and the groundskeeper — who Sam apparently has to share the house with, wants nothing to do with him.

You Smiled Because You Knew | Teen | 3,754 words

"You've got the wrong address," the man who'd answered growled. He had long, scraggly hair that had mostly escaped his attempts to pull it away from his face. He had nice eyes, and wouldn't have been unattractive, especially with a shave, except for the scowl. "Nobody here wants or needs your . . . services."

It was apparent by the tone the man did not appreciate Sam's hard work.

Well, that was tough shit.

#marvel #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #tfatws #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fic rec #fic recs #usermarcy #usersof #usersmile #usersamanne #sambucky fanfic #tusersammy #tusernini #my fic recs

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denkamis · 3 years

Note

hi!! could i get double chocolate and cherry with kaminari, shinsou and midoriya please?❤️

idk if i did this right so im sorry if i didnt!

to anon: hey anon, no worries! you did it perfectly :)) aww i love the characters you chose for this prompt, this is adorable. enjoy some fluffy times with these sleep deprived boys from a very sleep deprived writer <3

warnings: none! just some swearing and some bad sleeping habits lmao. reader is gn!

prompt: denki kaminari, hitoshi shinsou, izuku midoriya scenarios + “it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyways.”

denki kaminari

denki stays up late playing osu and minecraft

what can i say, he’s just a gamer man

so he’s honestly pretty reliable when it comes to you knocking on his door at late hours of the night

always the biggest cuddle bug, really happy that you go to him first out of everyone

literally drops everything for you hehe

lots of sleepy kisses too

“fuck! goddammit,” denki grumbled, shaking out his wrist as he had just failed the six star version of the intro of blend-s on osu. he had gotten rather addicted to the circle clicking game. this further resulted in denki staying up late on school nights, despite kirishima’s warnings of him potentially falling asleep in class the next day. it was fine, he could always borrow notes from you or jirou anyways!

as he went to restart the map again, a soft knock came at the door to his dorm room. spinning off his computer room chair, he prepared himself to be lectured by aizawa for the fifth time this week about breaking curfew. “aizawa-sensei, i know that i’ve been loud lately but i swear this time it won’t happen- y/n?” he stopped mid-sentence as he saw you standing on the other side of the door. “what are you doing up so late?”

you shook your head, immediately hugging his torso instead. you were clearly a bit distraught about something, but denki wasn’t a mind reader. he figured that from the way you were clinging onto him, it must have been a bad dream of some kind. “hey, hey, easy there! nearly knocked me over, huh,” denki laughed lightly, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head before closing the door behind you. you clung onto him, face buried in the crook of his neck. it made a small blush dust across his cheeks, a warm feeling spreading through his arms as he held you close. “i hope i’m not bothering you,” you mumbled, to which denki hummed. “you never bother me, babe. it’s okay, i couldn’t really sleep anyways.”

the two of you stayed like that for a long while, denki swaying the two of you back and forth. you could feel gentle lips peppering the crown of your head with kisses. as your heart rate slowed, denki piped up. “wanna stay here for the night? my bed’s missing out on some action! and by some action, i mean sleep. i really can’t sleep.”

you snorted at his words, your eyes flicking up to his goofy yet endearing smile, his eyes bright yet a bit tired from late night gaming. he poked his tongue out at you, making you roll your eyes with a tiny smile of your own gracing your features.

“how could i say no to that?”

hitoshi shinsou

we already know he’s up at these unholy hours

not for any particular reason, just because he can’t really sleep

quite the insomniac that one

and the fact that he can’t sleep properly or well unless you’re with him

you smell like lavender in the morning too bc he puts it in his pillow to help him sleep, thank you

shinsou lay awake in bed, eyes trained on the ceiling as he waited for himself to fall asleep. it was no secret that he barely got any rest, so it was simply easier to just sit and wait until his body exhausted itself to the point where he simply fell asleep. staying as still as he could, he kept counting the amount of times he breathed in and out. it made him acutely aware of his surroundings. the crickets outside his room, the way the moonlight streamed through his blinds, the miscellaneous creaking sounds of the dorms. yeah, he definitely wasn’t sleeping tonight.

he didn’t flinch as the door to his room opened, blinking slowly as his eyes adjusted to the light spilling into his room along with a new figure. “y/n?” he asked, not bothering to sit up. “hey, are you up? sorry toshi, i couldn’t sleep,” you explained softly, allowing the door to close behind you as you tiptoed across his dorm room. his hair was sprawled across his pillow, deep violet locks hiding his hands situated behind his head comfortably. it showed off his arms that were built from training for when, not if, he ever got into the hero course.

a lazy smile crossed his lips at your words, his heartstrings being played by you so seamlessly. “it’s okay, i couldn’t sleep anyways,” he replied with a tilt of his head towards you. he moved over a bit in his bed as to give you space to lay down next to him. you crawled beneath his comforters, inhaling the scent of lavender as you did. apparently shinsou had said that the smell helped him fall asleep easier. strong arms wrapped around your waist, encasing you in a protective embrace as your head rested comfortably against his chest. the comforter was thrown over the two of you. you felt so much safer already.

his large hands were placed on your lower back, his thumbs drawing lazy circles on your skin as his breathing began to relax noticeably. hiding your smile, you cuddled closer to him. to this day, you had never seen shinsou fall asleep so quickly since that night.

izuku midoriya

baby is up studying for a test that’s in like 2 weeks

either that or he’s on an all might video spree on youtube and no that is not the first time this has happened, it is certainly not the last

he has so many stuffed animals in his room probably, like he just has them stuffed in his closet

the all might plushies stay on the bed tho

his cuddles are unmatched tho, change my mind

izuku was pacing around his room, vocabulary words spinning about his mind as he counted them on his fingers. he was mumbling definitions to himself, going over all of them in his head before referencing his notebook to make sure nothing went wrong. amidst his ramblings, a knock at the door made him jump to attention. “come in?” he called out, watching intently as he saw you come into view. his face showed relief, grateful to know it wasn’t aizawa or kacchan complaining about his incessant pacing.

“would it be alright if i sleep here tonight? i’m worrying about my grades and stuff again,” you rubbed the back of your neck with a small smile, trying to play off your question as relaxed as you could. it wasn’t exactly a secret that you had a crush on the boy in front of you. he was kind and humble, wanting to help as many people as he could despite all the circumstances that had the world against him. it was admirable. even now, he looked so concerned from the clear lack of sleep you’ve been getting these past few days. “of course you can sleep here. ah, wait! i have to, ah,” he stumbled over his words as you looked to the bed to see not one, not even two, but four all might stuffed toys on his bed.

“oh.”

midoriya’s face erupted with crimson, shoving the plushies into his closet as he sputtered out various excuses as to why they were there in the first place. when he turned back to you, you were giggling. not at him, but because of the entire situation in general. “you’re adorable, izu,” you told him gently. a light feeling bloomed in his chest upon seeing the smile you held for him. you looked so undeniably beautiful to him, the way your hair was a bit messy and how you stood in your pyjamas. while others, including yourself, would find that you looked completely normal, midoriya loved seeing you be so casual, so comfortable around him.

“you’re sure i’m not interrupting you, though?”

midoriya returned your smile with his own, stepping forward to intertwined his scarred fingers with your delicate ones. “it’s okay,” he murmured softly, holding your hand as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him, “i couldn’t really sleep anyways.”

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox @honeykami @httpfirx @strawberrysalwa @hey-i-really-miss-you @smexy-goose @satis-kei

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #shinso x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha drabble #mha drabble #denkamis.scenarios #denkamis.requests

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nyxdelanuit · 4 years

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Watch Me (Kyoutani x F!Reader)

Hey guys!! Here’s my addition to the Haikyuu Headquarter’s NSFW Collab,which can be found here! This one’s prompt was mirror sex! I hope you all enjoy <3

Banner made by @guessmqnster

WARNINGS: Rough sex, overuse of princess and good girl, mirror sex (obvs), teasing, general NSFW stuff

You knew that you shouldn't play this game anymore. You weren't eighteen anymore, you were an actual adult now, with bills and a job. You should have real hobbies, like reading or crochet or something, not teasing your friend from high school. It had started out a harmless joke, something to boost your ego whenever you saw the unusually angry boy from the volleyball team staring at you. The more he stared, the bolder you got. He didn't seem to enjoy it much, more tolerating your presence than anything else, but the gossiping of the volleyball club let you know that was about as close as they've ever seen anyone with Kyoutani.

Suddenly it seemed like you had the Mad Dog on a leash. He never snapped at you, always kept his eyes on you. Oikawa had made it a habit of calling you when he was getting out of hand, and just the presence of you in the room would bring the faintest of blushes to his cheek. He would sulk over to you and sit, hiding the redness in his face as you made yourself comfortable next to him. You would giggle, leaving teasing touches and let his eyes wander.

That was fine for high school, you guessed. But now? Now it seemed a little childish to keep up the game. Over the years, you had become the most stable friend Kyoutani had, and your favorite pastime was seeing what reactions you could drag out of him. He had gotten used to some of your older tricks, but you were just as stubborn as he was. You almost felt guilty for letting it get so far.

Yet you still found yourself dressed too scantily for the weather, slipping into some run-down club. Kyoutani had the money to spend at a nicer place, but he seemed drawn to places like this, where no one would question the scowl on his face or bother him too much. Except you. You stalked up to him like it was your nature, throwing your arms around his neck. To his credit, he never touched you first. Your arms around his neck meant he let himself fold an arm around your waist.

“You’re late.” He groused, trying to keep his attention on his drink.

“Sorry, Kyou, it took me a little longer than expected to get ready.” You let your breath fall heavily on his neck, the way you knew would send a shiver down his spine. It was true, you had found Kyoutani’s weakness for cute things shortly after graduation, and slowly your wardrobe started becoming consumed by pastels. You had wasted too much time in front of your mirror before you left, making your eyes seem bigger with white liner and perfecting your twin pigtails. It would never meet the shock and surprise the first time you had dressed up elicited, but the memories of Kyoutani’s red face eagerly drinking in your appearance kept you going.

Even with all of his restraint, Kyoutani couldn’t help but look you over the second you removed yourself from his side, wandering to the bar for a drink. He wouldn’t let you pay, of course. Just another thing you had gotten used to when you started hanging out with him. With a drink in hand, you wandered over to the jukebox in the corner, shelling out change to pick out a few songs. You’d never really enjoy these bars, but you’d take what you could get here.

Queuing up the few songs you enjoyed at this bar, you went back to Kyoutani's side. You passed the time sipping at your drink and leaning against Kyoutani, enjoying how his eyes kept falling to you until the first song you chose came on. You squealed, hugging his arm to your chest.

"I love this song!" You set your drink down on the nearest table, returning to wrap your arms around his neck and swaying to the song. He kept his hands to himself, as he usually did, merely watching you. Yet when you let your hands drop, dragging down his chest before spinning, pressing your back to his chest, his hands flew to your waist. That was new, his grip wasn't as rough as you imagined, leaving you the choice to step out of his grasp. You didn't, of course. Instead, you continued swaying your hips to the beat, his heavy breaths against your neck, the only clue that he was affected by your teasing.

The end of the song was drawing near, so you spun in his grasp, wanting to see the blush overtake his face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He looked so much softer like this, the scowl wiped from his face, eyes wide open and staring, the littering of red across his face. There was barely a breath between you two.

It seemed as if the game had changed. You had finally tagged him, and now it was his turn to chase. Yet all he did was hold you close by your hips, pulling out his phone and pressing the trilling device to his ear.

"I'm calling about my standing reservation. Make sure it's ready for tonight. I'm on my way now." His voice was low in a way you hadn't heard. You've heard him angry, excited, happy even, but not the low growl he currently voiced. It sent a sweet shiver down your spine, dazing you enough to not notice how he was dragging you out of the bar and into his car. By the time your breath regained its rhythm, and your head stopped swimming with daydreams of Kyoutani, he was already in the driver's seat, speeding down the late-night streets. His hand was clutched around the gear shift, but with a glance, it strayed to your knee. Your breath hitched as you watched it slowly climb up your thigh, resting just under the suddenly too-cute skirt you had picked out for tonight. Only a little further, and Kyoutani would be able to feel the way you were soaking through your underwear already.

He seemed to notice your hesitation, keeping his hand in place and rubbing circles with his heavily calloused thumb, the sensation against your inner thigh causing you to hold back sweet sighs.

"Where are we going, Kyou?" He smirked, a look you decided was handsome on him.

“A hotel.”

“Wait, you have a standing reservation at a hotel? I’m not going if this is where you take all your hook-ups.” You pouted, trying to stand resolve against his tempting touch.

"No, I've had it on reserve for when you came around." If you thought you were flustered earlier, you were utterly embarrassed now. His eyes strayed to you as he waited for a light to change, watching the heat spread across your face. "So fucking cute." He groaned, speeding a little more than necessary as the light changed.

The world sped by as you thought of the implications of his words. For the first time in years, you thought you may have underestimated Kyoutani. He always seemed so flustered and embarrassed at your actions, but he was just waiting for you to make a move? It did seem more true to his personality, but you were still surprised at the restraint he showed, wondering why he held back at all. You hadn't been subtle with your teasing.

He had pulled up to a hotel, tossing his keys to the valet and ushering you in with a hand planted firmly on the small of your back. The concierge smiled as you walked in, almost smirking as Kyoutani stalked to the counter. “Finally making use of your reservation?” Kyoutani only scowled, grabbing the key from his hand.

“Kyou… how long have you had this room reserved?” You asked timidly as he led you through the halls.

"A year or two." He shrugged, quickly finding the room and unlocking the door, slamming it shut as soon as he entered. He flipped the deadbolt and placed the chain, wanting to remain undisturbed. When he turned back to you, the hunger in his eyes made you freeze in place, eyes locked on his as he slowly made his way to you. "Tell me if you want me to stop." You nodded, but he took your chin in between his fingers, bringing your lips to his. "I need to hear your words, princess."

“Y-yes, Kyou, I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.” He places an all-too gentle kiss to your lips, pulling away with a wicked smile.

"Good girl." The words send a shiver of arousal straight to your core. When he turns you around to lead you further into the room, you finally get a good look. There were mirrors everywhere. An entire wall is mirrored, showing every part of the room. Movement above you causes you to glance up, seeing the mirrored ceiling. He must have picked this room for a reason, and you thought you might have started understanding why.

He pushed you to sit on the bed, sliding behind you. Your legs dangled off the bed, body facing the intimidating mirror in front of you. His arms circled your waist, barely ghosting against your skin through the fabric.

"You made me watch you for years while you teased and taunted me." His hands trailed down your hips, skimming over your thighs. The warmth of his hands so close to your core made you fall against his shoulder with a shaky sigh. "So now you're going to watch me wreck you." His voice no more than a growl in your ear.

To your displeasure, he pulled his hands away, and you watched in the mirror as they slipped up your shirt. He lingered for a moment, fingers dancing under the band of your bra.

"Such a good girl, listening to me already. Too bad I still have to punish you for teasing me for so long." He pulls your shirt over your head with ease. His calmness set your nerves on edge, wishing he would just hurry up, but the fingers trailing down your back to unhook your bra stopped the words from leaving your mouth. The fabric was barely pulled from your body before his hands covered your chest. You could feel the way he tensed against your back, your nipples pebbling against his palms.

He allowed himself a few tentative grasps at your breasts before one of his hands fell, the pressure more confident on your skin as he roamed your stomach. Now that he was sure you wouldn’t push him away, his hand returned to your thigh. You could see the blush growing on your face as your legs fell open from him, and you let your head fall back to his shoulder, eyes closed.

He flipped your skirt up, “Now, princess, you were being such a good girl. Don’t look away now.” The barely restrained lust in his voice made you squirm against his hold, but you did as he asked. It was embarrassing, seeing the growing moisture on your panties as his hand slowly crept closer, but when your eyes drifted to Kyoutani’s face, all you could see was the unrestrained excitement in the tense way he clenched his jaw.

The suspense made every movement he made send electricity through your veins, you couldn't tear your eyes away as his fingers caressed against your clothed core, teasing strokes against the wetness he found there. You bit your lip to contain the noises that threatened to bubble up, sighing as Kyoutani took your nipple between two fingers, lightly rolling it as he stared at your face in the mirror. All this attention was overwhelming, and when Kyoutani peeled the fabric away just enough to dip a finger into your dripping slit, you couldn't hold back anymore. You barely registered the moan that fell from your lips as your voice, and it only worsened as Kyoutani pinched your nipple between his calloused fingers, moving to apply the same attention to the other.

He looked crazed now, and you were unable to look away. His eyes burned as they stared at your dripping core in the mirror, shoving two fingers in roughly and pistoning them at a fast pace, taking you off guard. It seemed like your moan finally eroded whatever control he had. You could feel your legs shake as he urged them further apart with his own, opening you up to both of your gazes. It only seemed to heighten your pleasure, watching his fingers dip into your heat relentlessly. You could feel him harden against your back, and you couldn't resist pressing up against it, pulling a hiss from his lips.

"Still teasing, princess?" He growls, slowing his fingers to an agonizingly slow pace. You whine, trying to grind yourself on his fingers, but he places a hand on your hip, holding you still. "Such a little slut for me, aren't you, princess. Look, you're dripping around my fingers." He chuckles, low and crazed. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you won't ever look at another man again. Even if you've only been looking at me. I'm not dumb, baby, I noticed what you were doing right away." You whine as he pulls his hand away entirely, unzipping his pants and shimmying out of them, throwing them to join your shirt. He pauses for a moment, throwing off his shirt and boxers while he took you in, squirming against the empty feeling between your legs.

He lifts you quickly, slotting one of your legs over each of his. His cock slips between your legs, barely pressing against your heat. You grind down against his length, breath catching as the tip grazes your clit, eyes shutting in pleasure. Kyoutani grasps the base of your hair, firm enough to startle you but not painful.

"You. Will. Watch. Me." Each word is punctuated by a thrust, and you kept your eyes on his dick, slowly drenched by your essence. He lifts you slowly, making sure your eyes stay locked on as he sinks you slowly onto his cock. You struggle against his hold, trying to force your hips down faster, but his grip is firm, pressing blooming bruises into your skin.

He finally relents when he bottoms out, letting you move as you please as you adjust to his length. He fills you so well, making you remember just how long it's been since you've fucked someone. Still, none of your flings had felt like this. He doesn't let you set the pace, his hands on your hips, and his thrusts making you feel like little more than a fuck toy. Yet you watch, moans flowing from your chest with every roll of his hips, feeling more desired than you ever had before.

He watches you for a while longer, rutting into your pussy with firm, deep strokes before pulling you off entirely. You whine at the emptiness, wondering how long he’ll keep you on edge when he throws you to the middle of the bed.

You can only stare at yourself in the mirror on the ceiling. You looked utterly debauched, face flushed, tears pooling in your eyes. Your nipples swollen and reddening, and even from this distance, you can see the slick pooling from your slit. Kyoutani pulls your legs wider as he slides up to you, and with the mirror, you can see every muscle in his back as he moves to place your legs. He wastes no time sinking into you again, sitting up on his knees to keep the view clear.

"You're pulling me in, princess." His finger dips to trace a harsh circle on your clit, and you can only cry out in response, watching your mascara run down your face in a dark track. "You want to be good for me, princess?" You nod desperately at his question, not trusting your words. He pulls your knees up to your chest, locking eyes with you as he kisses you quickly, urgently. "Hold your legs for me." Your shaking hands hug the back of your thighs to your chest as he pulls back. "And don't take your eyes off me."

He pulls back, spreading your open with his thumbs as he sinks into you slowly, and you moan at the delicious sight of him sinking into your heat. Once again, he seems to snap at your sounds, you can practically feel the heat of his gaze. You tear your eyes away from the mirror to meet his stare, clenching around him as you see the hunger growing in his eyes. The desire that grew in his eyes made you convinced he would consume you entirely, and all you wanted was to give into him.

“Kyoutani, please, fuck me. I’m your good girl.” You whine, and the look on his face was worth any embarrassment you felt saying the words. His hands pull your hips flush with his with bruising force. He truly lets go this time, starting a fierce pace, and all you can do is helplessly hold onto your legs and watch his dick slip in and out of your folds. It was so lewd, so unlike anything you would ever do. The brutality of his thrusts was painful, but the bite only pulled you closer to your high. He could feel the way you tensed around him, nearing your edge, and his finger returned to your clit, reveling in the way you bucked against his harsh touch.

“Kyou, gonna cum,” Your voice didn’t sound like your own anymore, all rough and fucked out, “Please.” He laughed lowly, circling you clit faster until you fell apart. He pulled out as you came, whining as you clenched around nothing.

"Look at your greedy little pussy, trying to pull in what isn't there." He laid an open-mouthed kiss against your core, lapping at your release as you cried out, wishing you could touch him. As the tremors began to subside, he shoved himself back within you, returning to his unforgiving pace. "I'm going to ruin you for everyone else, princess." He pants, finally replacing your hands with his own as his body covers your own. The feeling of his rough hands was much better than your own, and now you could clutch at the sheets as thrusts within you with abandon. You must be crying now, the wetness covering your face, but Kyoutani's eyes were locked on yours. He never stopped looking, even now. Even as he released inside of you, filling you further than you expected, he fought to keep his eyes open and on you.

He collapsed next to you on the bed, pulling you harshly to his side. What do you say now? After all this?

“You ruined my skirt.” You mentally slapped yourself, definitely not that. Yet Kyoutani chuckled, pulling your head to lay on his shoulder.

“I’ll buy you a new one. But you’re not allowed to watch anyone but me from now on.” You smiled, content with his answer, leaving a linger peck against his neck.

“I think I can do that, Kenta.” The smile he gave you then would be your favorite little secret, soft and sweet just for you.

Taglist: @say-my-name-assbut @rocorambles @animefandomally @super-haikyuu-hotline @gokm1023 @cornchipsanddip @verdandi24-blog @dadchis-girl @moonsaye @beatific-drabbles @animewh0re @queenmira29

#kyoutani x reader #kyoutani kentarou x reader #kyotani x reader #kyotani kentaro x reader #mad dog x reader #Nyx writes #nyx collabs #Haikyuu hq collab

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crit20art · 3 years

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fuck it. jmart kid fic preview

Somewhere Else, 2027

The walk between work and home is always longer going than it is coming. Maybe it’s the fatigue. Maybe it’s some subtle undulation of space. There are things like that here, shimmering at the edges of Jon’s perception, dewdrop-spangled webs catching stray slips of this reality’s sunlight. They aren’t Hilltop tears, just threadbare stretches, places where this world rubs up against the next. Made it a prime candidate for the invasion of Fear, Jon supposes.

The thought sends a shudder through the tension of his upper back, and his jaw clenches, and-- fuck, he’s bitten the goddamn cigarette in half. “Blast it,” he hisses, and spits unceremoniously into the street. He gets a look from a passerby, and has to swallow back the urge to return a much eviler eye.

He lights up as soon as he gets home. Leans out the window on his aching elbows, closes his eyes, and lets the smoke roll through him. The nicotine glitters around the crown of his skull, stimulating neural pathways that don’t get much exercise outside of this ritual. What did he used to do to feel alive?

Live, probably.

He’s just tipping a second cig into his palm when knocking begins to resound through his flat. He stands straight and frowns at the dead-bolted door. While he (understandably, he thinks) has some unpleasant associations with knocking, this is not the ominous sort that he might have once feared; it’s light and fast and won’t give it a rest. Monsters have more restraint than that, he thinks. Probably some kid harassing him.

Grumbling like the old man he’s quickly becoming, he grabs his cane and snaps, “Alright, alright,” as he approaches the door. The knocking falters. He opens the door.

His own eyes blink back at him.

Jon drops his cane. It clatters to his faux-wood floor. He’s swaying, then; he goes proper dizzy, and only snaps back to full lucidity when his shoulder crumples into the door frame. He leans there, mouth agape, and blinks stupidly as the child on his doorstep stoops to pick up his cane. She holds it out to him. He stares at her.

She’s tall for her age. (Nine, he knows without Knowing.) Her warm brown cheeks are still soft with baby fat, and freckles crowd her nose. Wild hair wreaths her head and shoulders, controlled only by glittery barrettes tucked into the curly black jungle.

“Uh hi,” she says, and then she smiles. It’s a smile he knows better than his own, captured somehow on this child’s lips. Jon’s knees waver.

“Holy fuck,” he says.

Her smile falls, and she scrunches her nose at him. The gesture is so familiar that Jon thinks he might pass out.

“Uh--” Jon tries to stand upright, but he just staggers and sinks back against the door jamb. “You-- How-- you’re--”

“Are you gonna fall down?” she asks.

“A-almost certainly,” says Jon. She stretches her arm and shakes it a bit, bringing his attention to the cane she’s still offering him. Finally, he makes himself take it. “You’re. I, uh. Um.”

“I’m Aamal,” she says.

Ah. There it is. Jon’s knees give.

He slumps to the floor, startling the child’s brown eyes saucer-large. Before she can react further, Jon gasps, “How- h-how are you here?”

“I followed the black ribbons,” she says.

Flashes of magnetic tape tangle across Jon’s memory, as clear to him today as they were nine years ago, when the noose of them cinched tight around everything he loved.

“They… ah. Right.” Jon lifts a shaking hand to his face, as if touching something real will steady him, and stares at his guest. His--

His daughter.

“Yes, um,” he whispers, shaking, “H-hello… Aamal.” Her name feels small and sacred on his tongue, fragile as a dissolving wafer. How unworthy he is, to say it. “You’re, uh. Y-you’re- you’re here.” His hand skitters up through his hair, displacing combed-back licks of grey over his forehead. “H-how- how- how did you find me?”

And Aamal says, very matter-of-factly, “I saw you in my dream.”

Jon inhales so sharply that he almost chokes. “Your--?”

“My dream,” Aamal confirms, and bounces on her heels. “I have it every night. I thought it was a bad dream at first, because it was so scary? Like, the world was angry and hungry and I knew it wanted to eat me up while the sky watched. But then I realised that wasn’t gonna happen, because my daddies were there with me, and they’d keep me safe.”

Jon covers his mouth again. Teardrops slip over his fingers.

“You are my daddy, right?” Aamal asks, her cheeriness shrinking to something timid, little hands fluttering together nervously. “That’s how it felt in the dreams.”

“Uh- y-yes? I-- yeah. Yeah.” Fingertips still trembling against his lips, it occurs distantly to Jon that it’s probably time for him to pull himself together and try to offer some kind of comfort to the child who, regardless of whatever uncertainties surround her, has definitely hopped dimensions to be here. Gritting his teeth, he gets his cane under him and forces himself to slide back up the doorframe, then takes a few moments to catch his breath.

“Yes,” he says, finally, when he knows the words will come out steadily. “I, uh. I-I’m your father. My name is, uh, it’s Jon. Jonathan Sims. Um. You can- just- you can call me that.”

“Okay, That.” Aamal grins very widely and looks at him with expectant eyes.

“Oh,” says Jon, after an embarrassingly long pause. “Ha. Yes, uh. Call me ‘That,’ right. Um.” He takes a deep breath, and it punches back out of him in a nervous, awkward chuckle that would make most adults uncomfortable. Aamal just beams, and seems proud to have got a laugh out of him. “Well- no sense having this discussion in the hall, is there? Uh, do- do come in.” He stands aside and gestures at the dim, sparse interior of his flat. He does not blame Aamal for the hesitation that precedes her entering. Reflexively, Jon leans out into the hall and squints one way, then the other. Satisfied, at least, that no one is lying in wait, he shuts and bolts the door.

He turns, and finds for the first time since he signed for this flat that he is not alone in it. His daughter stands in the middle of his thrifted rug, her hands buried in the pockets of her dungarees and her freckles pinched together by her scrunched nose.

She’s here. She’s right here.

“It stinks in here,” she says.

Jon laughs. It’s hoarse and stale, bitten back the moment he realises how wrong it sounds. He clears his throat. “Yes, ah. Smoking’s a nasty habit.” He glances at the pack of cigarettes abandoned on his windowsill, and feels an odd twinge of guilt in his longing for a puff to steady himself. He looks back at Aamal, who has begun to make a circle of the room, touching his shelves, poking at the clutter that always builds up despite his best efforts.

“Um,” says Jon. Aamal doesn’t look at him. She’s shuffling through his books, the little divot between her brows settling deeper as she considers each second-hand paperback.

Jon clears his throat. “Do you, uh, like to read?”

Aamal turns her frown on him, mouth a squiggle of confusion. “Did you cut out all the eyes?”

Ah.

“I, uh. Well- uh.” He picks at the ragged grip of his cane. “That’s-- it- it hardly matters right now,” he manages, exhaling raggedly. Aamal opens her mouth, but he seizes what momentum he’s collected and asks, “Are you here alone? Where’s- do you still know Georgie and Melanie?”

Aamal forgets the books instantly, her face lighting up at the names. “You know Mummy and Mellie?”

“Mum- and--? Oh! Oh, they.” His throat feels like it might close up. “They raised you, then.”

“Yeah, they’re my mums.” Aamal wanders past Jon and drops onto his couch, gasping a squeak when the cushion sinks lower than she was apparently expecting. She wriggles for a moment as if trying to get comfortable. “Do you have any snacks?”

Whiplash-stricken, Jon flounders for a few moments before saying, “Maybe?”

Aamal’s brow drops like she doesn’t find that very promising, but she hops up from the couch and makes a beeline for his tiny kitchen. She’s sticking her head into his fridge before he plucks up enough lucidity to follow her.

“Do you like, ah--” What do kids like? What did he like as a kid? “Uh, how about a sandwich?”

“Sure,” says Aamal. She pulls her preferred makings, then rests her elbows on the counter and her chin in her hands, and watches Jon assemble. A long-lost hope flutters at the edge of Jon’s memory, a future he’d once imagined: a little face looking up at him, a meal to be prepared, a solid presence at his side, stolen kisses that might make their daughter stick out her tongue and make gross-out noises in the way of children too young to know how rare and precious it is for their parents to love each other so easily.

“Does your hand hurt?” Aamal asks.

Jon comes back to himself. He blinks down at his hands; habitually, he’s only using the one, letting the other rest half-curled on the counter. “Ah. No, n-not today.”

Aamal stares for a moment, then draws a sharp breath and looks Jon in the eye. “Sorry!”

Jon lifts a brow. “What? Why?”

“It’s rude to ask about scars,” Aamal informs him, and something in her intonation sounds so like Georgie that it twists up Jon’s stomach in an odd amalgamation of fondness and loss.

“Ah- well, as a general rule, maybe. But it’s alright.” He clears his throat, then stretches his burned hand with a small wince at its stiffness. Aamal watches his shaky fingers unfurl, and her eyes are intent, and maybe he’s imagining it, but… there’s a kindness there, he thinks. He tries not to think of other kind brown eyes, of other gazes falling so gently on his scars. “It hurts less than it used to,” he says softly. “I’ve had it since… lord, about a year before you were born, actually. Eleven months, almost to the day.”

At that, Aamal’s eyes grow wide. “Oh! Did you have me? Like, when I was born?”

“Oh! Uh, n-no, that wasn’t me.” Jon pulls his hand back, feeling very suddenly out of his depth. “Your, uh- did Geo-- did your mums tell you about that?”

“Yeah. They told me that before they adopted me, my parents were two boys, but I wasn’t confused or anything. I know all about genders,” she says, with all the confidence of a tenured professor. Then she looks around, as if suddenly noticing an absence. “Wait, where’s my other daddy?” She turns back to Jon, and he’s struck by the worst urge to look away. “Will he be back soon?”

Jon meets her hopeful eyes, and for the first time in years, actually feels the wound yawning wide in his chest, deeper and bloodier than the scar through his heart has ever been.

“No,” he says, very softly. Aamal’s face falls, her brows drawn in question. Jon can’t look at her. He stares at his good hand, knuckles yellowed by his grip on the edge of the counter.

“He, uh.” He swallows. It goes down like rocks. “He’s not coming back.”

“Why?” Her voice is high, pinched with a note of anger. Unbidden, Jon chokes out a small, miserable laugh.

She sounds just like Martin.

“Because,” he says, raw, both hands shaking now, “I messed up very, very badly.”

thanks for reading this lil preview!! i’m almost finished with ch 1 and planning to publish on ao3 next week. it’s gonna alternate between the present and the past, told through Jon’s POV post-200, and Martin’s POV throughout season 4/5.

#tma fic #jonmartin #jonmartin fic #the magnus archives fic #tma #the magnus archives #i promise i'm not abandoning my gbbo fic (or my zukka one for that matter) i'm just fucking possessed by this idea #trying to write other stuff has been torment and. yknow fanfiction is supposed to be fun so. i'm switching active projects lmao

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titilationexpress · 3 years

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StarscreamxReader-Sweet Dreams are made of Screams Ch.1

First ever lemon. Please give your input. Reposting from my Ao3.

You haven’t been able to sleep properly for weeks now. And frankly, you’re wondering if you ever will again in your lifetime.

Yet what caused you to have such a problem with something that once came to you so easily? Ok, maybe not easily. No, scratch that. It was never easy. You had to take some sleeping pills every night to even get a few hours in. Still, how did it happen?

Well, the trouble had started back not long ago. In fact, from what you could recall, it hadn’t even been a full month before your ‘problem’ started. See, you were a fairly average individual. You had your quirks, your habits, the little things that make each person an individual. One particular interest you had though was quite specific, and even more, came from a decade long before you were born.

Transformers.

Oh yes, your beginnings were humble when you first started with the franchise, and you looked with wide, awe-filled eyes. Your starting place was where you first discovered it, the one show that will remain in your heart forever. From that, you got into the characters, the story, the lore of what started as a toyline for young boys (though it was clear now that both sexes had a love for it), all of it. And from there, you went on to past and future generations from your starting point, and now, you were a certified Transformers fan! Hell, one of your favorite sites ever is TFWiki.

With this entrance into the fandom, you took to devouring everything that you could: the cartoons and animes, the books, the movies, fanfiction, fanart, fan comics, doujinshi, anything and everything that you could get your hands on, you did. And not long after, you began contributing yourself, drawing, writing, whatever you could to make your stand and have your place in the community. At first, it worked well enough, you weren’t exactly prolific, yet you were doing well enough. You managed to get a few requests for certain things to be drawn/written, believe it or not, but still, you weren’t overly big.

And then came your discovery of the Reader genre.

What is the Reader genre? Why, as far as you were concerned, only one of the greatest genres ever to be conceived! Well, to be more accurate, the form of writing wasn’t anything new, remembering the ‘Choose Your Adventure’ books. It seemed said genre now spread everywhere, you being very aware of the numerous games and dating sims that ranged from well done and engaging to outright ridiculous and stupid (but those were fun in their unique way). And since you didn’t have any knowledge or time to do that, you settled for writing them yourself. Your first piece was a simple Optimus x Reader with the standard plot and standard outcome, which was a declaration of love and a resulting kiss with the Autobot Leader. You were NOT expecting the overflow of response that it had gotten. You were quite shocked, but at the same time, overjoyed. Soon, you decided to try your luck with another one, this one being of Bumblebee, the scenario being mostly the same, albeit with a bit more cutesy fluff, as in your mind, Bumblebee was always the little guy. This one was just as successful, and you beamed, having finally found your calling.

Since then, you were getting requests left and right for more and more choices, all spanning different universes. From the animated cartoons to the comics, different universes, everything that spanned from the most well-known incarnations to the more obscure. It was through these that you managed to get even more into the Transformers multiverse as a whole and even discovered some truly overlooked gems. You opened yourself up to the people and declared that you would write whatever they requested, but you had some taboos that you wouldn’t touch. But any scenario, character, and universe, all of that was fair game.

You had originally begun working on more mundane, typical stories with expected outcomes (but sweet ones nonetheless), yet over time, the requests and your imagination began getting more creative and crazy. Soon, you were delving into several different areas that you had never touched. Elves, goblins, mermaids, vampires, forbidden love, love triangles, all of these were laid at your feet. And while it took a bit to find your rhythm, all of this having come on you so fast, you eventually got it and soon, you had a wide collection of X Reader stories, ranging from G1 to Prime and IDW’s run.

You mainly did Autobots, for you had to admit that writing for them, while they were still complex characters, came somewhat easier for you. True, each of them had their faults and quirks (both from canon and headcanons people had come up with), yet they were still the good guys, and even those with more questionable morality still came out as heroes in the end. But then one day came where you were asked to write about a Decepticon. This threw you for a loop, as, while the thought had intrigued you, you had been writing for good guys for some time, so a total shift in direction was somewhat off-putting and scary. Possibilities of it being too saccharine or sweet, or getting the characters wrong or out of character scared you a bit, yet still, you wanted to test the waters and see if you could do it. And if you could, this would open up so much more for you.

And judging from the input, you had just struck gold yet again.

Soon, not only were you flooded with requests for Autobots, but now their foes were also available, and, as you found out, people had just as much an attraction for the darkness as they did for the light. Again, the same scenarios were implemented, yet now, they had something of a darker edge to them, which allowed you to explore some subjects you couldn’t touch with the Autobots without toning it back somewhat. In a way, the Decepticons provided you with more freedom. Ironic, seeing as Megatron’s motto was “Peace through Tyranny.”

That said, you went through the list of available characters throughout the generations, and so far, those had been garnering quite a following as well, your Autobot and Decepticon stories neck and neck in popularity. Everything seemed to be going well for you.

Then that one question came.

‘Hey, where’s Starscream?’

Then another.

‘Could you write one about Starscream?’’

Then another.

‘Hey, hate to bother you, yet I think that Starscream could use some love here.’

More and more questions and requests for the particular Decepticon filled your messages, and frankly, you were at a loss on what to do. Truth be told, you and Starscream had something of a complicated history. When you had gotten into Transformers, you had heard of the character, yet at first, you never saw why he had gained such a large fanbase. True, he wasn’t a bad character, yet he wasn’t your favorite. But over time, as you wrote more and more for the Decepticons, as well as read X Reader stories from other people, you slowly began to, as one would say, gain an interest in the winged robot. And soon, you found yourself enamored by the smug jerk as well.

But this only made you reluctant to write for him.

True, when you started writing for the Decepticons, you were allowed to experiment with some more intimate and extreme situations, yet with Starscream...it was different. It was hard to explain, yet whenever you got a request to write for him, your brain seemed to seize up. Thoughts came to your head that you had tried to banish, thoughts that came every time you saw the Seeker’s name. You had no idea what was going on or why this was so difficult, yet it seemed the Silver Snake had taken to making your fingers not touch the keyboard.

You had no idea at all. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

And since you had gotten the slew of requests, your sleep problems began. The moment you shut your eyes, the scenario began all over again.

…

You needed no introduction to where you were or what you were seeing, it all quite familiar to you now. Around you were towering walls of a silvery mauve color, the only available light from above sparse and leaving several areas coated in darkness. This place was all too familiar, for you had seen it many times in your watching and reading of Transformers.

You were in Decepticon headquarters.

Your dreams had been filled with the base of the enemy faction of the Autobots, and at first, it had shocked you as to why you were here at all. But over time, night after night, you came here, and soon, you grew accustomed to the sight of it. You took on the form of your Transformers persona/OC or remained in your regular, human form, whatever pleased you as if you had some control over this environment. Yet as you grew more familiar (you were never sure if you’d be comfortable), you began to explore the place, finding that, to your surprise, there was no one here. No signs of any sort of life aboard the ship, and while it took a good while, you traveled everywhere you could think of, and still, nothing. No Megatron, no other Decepticons, no one but you had been aboard.

At least, that was what you believed when you first had this dream. Then, you heard it. The voice. His voice.

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

Singing, serenading, just loud enough for you to hear, yet low enough for you to know it was far away. It always started this way.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man,”

Your ears/audio receptors registered the voice as it echoed throughout the ship. When the dreams had begun, you knew immediately who was singing, and then you were more surprised at how it sounded. Sure, it had its infamous high pitch, yet it wasn’t bad to listen to. Daresay, it was rather enjoyable in its own way.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten bad little girls like you.”

The first few times you had this dream, it would almost always startle you, yet it led you to look down the other balls and corridors of the ship. The results were always the same though: no one was aboard. No one but you...and him.

“Beware, better have a care,”

The song changed each and every time you entered the dream, tonight being a track you heard on a video game you played not too long ago (Bioshock 2 you believed). Yet the songs always had the same effect on you.

“I’m going to follow you everywhere.”

Despite your trepidation, you wanted...needed to follow it.

“I crawl through the ceiling and the wall and call on bad little girls like you.”

Walking, then running, you traversed the winding path before you, taking several left and right turns, having no sense of direction but that voice. A voice that, despite its infamous sound, held power to it, a siren’s song in a way. Ironic, you thought. Still, you followed, for you had reached your limit. You knew what would happen if you didn’t find him.

“I’ll torture you and hunt you,”

And never leave.

I’ve got you where I want you,”

And never let you escape this dream.

“A victim of my dark and dirty plot.”

And he knew it too. He knew he had power over you. And you hated it.

“And at the slightest whim, I’ll tear you limb from limb,”

Or…

“In other words, I’ll put you on the spot.”

Did you?

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

You were close. So dangerously close.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man.”

Just a turn around the corner.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten…”

He paused, you stopping in your tracks at what you saw. There he was. Situated behind violet bars of energy in a cell, the Decepticon stood there with his arms folded and looking upon you with satisfied, hungry red eyes.

“...bad little girls like you.”

It was him.

Starscream.

Your favorite incarnation of Starscream, those ruby orbs boring into your own eyes/optics. You stepped back from the cell, eyes/optics wide at what was before you. Sure, if you were to go by dream logic, some part of you always knew that it was ‘him’ that awaited you at the end of this journey, but still, to actually see him, standing there so casually when it looked like he was locked up, it chilled you. As if he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

“My, my, so you finally found me,” he said, his voice perfectly matching the incarnation that stood before you. “Or rather, I found you. Whichever way it goes, it doesn’t matter,” he smirked. “For I already know the outcome.”

You blinked a few times, still trying to see if who was before you had truly been there. “St…” you began nervously. “Starscream?”

The Decepticon chuckled and stepped out of the shadows, allowing you to fully see him. “In the mesh,” he said. “And I see that introductions won’t need to be made either, will they, Y/N?” your eyes/optics went wide. “That’s right, pet, I know everything. This IS your mind after all.”

“Wh-What?” you stammered. “I don’t understand.”

Starscream’s grin only grew wider. “You will soon. You will understand EVERYTHING.”

Just what was he talking about? From the looks of it, he seemed to be enjoying your tension and trepidation, very amused. Your mind went into fan mode, recalling every fact you had known of Starscream and his various incarnations, which then led to you going on the defensive. “You…” albeit, it took you a try or two. “You’re the one that’s been doing this to me. Giving me these...these weird dreams.” the Decepticon didn’t answer, yet it was clear that he already knew that the secret was out (even if it wasn’t much of one). “You’re also the one that’s not letting me have one decent night’s sleep without being trapped here!”

“Or me serenading you?” he added in. “How do you like it? I don’t do it often, yet if I wish, I can stretch out my vocal components if I want.”

Your cheeks grew hot. Damn, this bastard was already making you too wound up, and you had only gotten a few words in! “Well...I’m here now,” you said, trying to sound confident, and, ironically enough, trying to channel Megatron’s dominating aura. “So, what do you want?”

This didn’t phase him in the slightest. Despite him being the one locked up, you were the one who felt like his prisoner. “I think you already know that dear Y/N,” he said. “But to put it simply, I’m feeling left out.”

You were confused. “Left out?” You asked. “Left out of…” you paused. Indeed, you knew well what he was talking about. “My...my reader inserts.”

Starscream nodded. “Quite an extensive library you’ve built up over time.” He told you. “Though your choices could be much better.” he scoffed. “Of course goody-good Prime would be on the list, along with the rest of the Auto-dolts.” Then he grimaced. “Yet there are those that actually want to FRAG Megatron? Ugh! No taste at all!” He then looked back at you. “You’ve written for everyone, from either faction, of every series,” he then pouted. “But none for me. Truly, Y/N, I’m hurt.”

You felt quite awkward. True, while you were known online for your stories, it was your username and persona they were seeing. They weren’t someone that was right around the corner that could walk in and see you writing these things. While you loved doing it, the thought of your family or friends discovering you wrote in this genre was a thought you dared not entertain, as you swore that you’d die from embarrassment. Thus, you were very careful whenever you did it, your room completely locked tight so you could focus without fear of someone barging in. The only times you left during your writing periods were for bathroom breaks and/or to eat/drink something. It was a big secret...and thinking about it now, it was a secret no more to the most infamous backstabber in all of Transformers. You had been found out.

“Well...so what? Are you going to keep haunting me until I do?” you asked. “You can’t do that!”

Starscream didn’t seem phased by this at all. That damned smirk of his both frustrated and made you excited, a combination that left you very unsure. “Can’t I?” he asked.

You didn’t like his tone. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s consider for a moment, Y/N,” he said. “You believe that I’m merely a figment of your imagination, yes? A stubborn thought that is lodged in your subconscious. Am I right?” you shifted a bit, knowing well what he was saying would lead to something else. Something that probably would flip everything on its head. “Well...who’s to say that I am?”

“I...I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. But what I say might just jog your memory.” he then went on. “In your last X Reader, you spoke of multiple versions of the characters, such as Prime and...yes, even Megatron,” Starscream scoffed. “And how it would’ve been peculiar if they met. Then, one of your readers linked you to a page on the TFWiki.” Starscream then chuckled. “Quite an array of knowledge, I must say. Especially for a primitive species such as yourselves. Anyway, said page spoke of what is labeled as the Transformers Multiverse, which, if I may say, is an excuse for you all to toy with and shape us into what YOU want. But back on track, you did a small amount of research on that, then went on about your business.”

“...and what does this have to do with why you’re here?”

Starscream smirked. “Then, after some time, you went and read the entries of me from various series and incarnations. To get a better feel for what you were thinking of writing. What you wanted to write. Only, you never did.” You were about to speak again, but the seeker spoke again before you could. “There was one detail from my earliest incarnation that spoke of a ‘ghost’, an immortal spark that couldn’t be snuffed out. One that could travel through space and time.” He drew closer to the bars. “And then discovered a way to travel through dimensions. Wherein, I found out all about how so many humans have seen my reality behind a television screen.”

What was he talking about? What did any of what he said mean? It was then that it all clicked for you. Sparks were essentially the ‘soul’ of a Transformer, which Starscream’s was indestructible. You read that he made an appearance in Beast Wars, and had made cameos elsewhere. What was before you right now...mere feet away…” Are you.. “ you stammered. “Are you really…”

The Decepticon nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am, Y/N.”

You were left speechless. No. No, this...this was impossible. It...it couldn’t be him! It couldn’t be the REAL Starscream! He was a cartoon, no, a toy! A damn toy! A toy from the eighties that were made to be marketable to young boys (and the girls that were secretly into it) among several other toys that were made be marketable to young boys (and again, the girls that were secretly into it)! There was NO way he was in your mind right now! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t-

“You step out into the chilled air, wrapping your arms around yourself as you do.” the Decepticon suddenly began. “He’s there to pick you up. He’s there to pick you up. You’re both terrified and exhilarated, eager to start the night, but also to make it fly by just enough so nothing embarrassing would happen between the two of you.” your jaw dropped when you heard him say that. How did he- “Know that you recently read over your very first entry? The one that started it all?” he then ‘rolled’ his eyes. “The one that clearly displayed that you had little taste at first?”

Of course, you did! That was from your very first X Reader story! It told of Optimus Prime and you, a human, in a relationship. Odd start, you knew, especially given that Transformer x Human relations was sort of controversial, yet overall, it wasn’t a bad one. Still, the fact he knew that…” No.” you said aloud. “It can’t be.”

He smiled. “I am.”

You stepped back until you hit a wall. “S-Starscream.” you stuttered. “You’re him. You’re the...the real one.” he was quite satisfied with your reaction, you clearly flustered yet cautious at the same time. The sensation drove you mad. But then you remember, this was just a dream! You were just making up all this stuff! You were relieved by this revelation...yet at the same time, you were...curious. Just where would this go if you continued? “Well...well, what are you doing here? What do you want?”

“Exactly as I said before, I feel left out,” Starscream told you. “And considering my popularity in this universe, I’d think me being here should tell you something.”

You knew what he wanted. “You want me to write about you.” it was obvious. “I-I know. I mean, I’ve been wanting to. Really, I have. But...but I...I just…” you sighed. If you knew Starscream (and you had at least a decent enough faith you did), you knew that this could potentially earn you his anger. Yet, to your surprise, he didn’t try to order you around. Instead, he seemed like he already knew you were going to say that.

“You can’t,” he said for you. “Understand, I’m the one in YOUR mind. Thus, you could say, I know everything about you. A perk of being something that, in this universe, started out as a drawing on a piece of paper.” you were confused, this seemed to humor Starscream even more. “Oh, come now. Surely you know that concept art exists, right?”

All of this was so insane for you, yet it was then that you felt the urge to speak up and say something for yourself for once. “Well, if you’re here from the...well, YOUR universe, what are you doing here in the first place?”

“Why, this is one of the few places I win!” Starscream exclaimed. “Of course, when I first came here, I was quite perplexed about how I and many others were known as products from a company called ‘Hasbro’. But overtime, I discovered your version of the internet, and, well, as you flesh bags say, the rest is history.” he then continued, not giving you a chance to speak. “And bring that I am an idea in this universe, I can go freely as I wish, peering into minds,” his red eyes looked upon you. “Become one’s permanent muse or vice versa.”

God, you felt weird. You felt so confused and conflicted. You wanted to sink into the wall to get away, but you also wanted to know more about this. You had to know more. You needed to know more. “So…?”

“So, I’ve come to you, as you’re truly in need of some inspiration,” Starscream said. “As well as some changes in your thinking.”

“Like what? Worshiping the ground you walk on?” you ask, feeling a little bolder.

“Oh, you already do.” he said. “If you didn’t desire me, I wouldn’t be here.” he grinned at your shocked expression. “That’s right, Y/N, I know what truly holds you back from writing about me. Your fears, your anxieties, your loves and lusts.” you had no words. “You fear that you may get me wrong if you will. That I won’t be in character. Or you fear that you won’t be able to satisfy the wants of your readers, as I AM so highly anticipated. Or…” he leaned closer to the bars, the only barrier separating you two. “You fear exploring those more intimate pleasures with me. You’re intimidated and unsure. After all, writing for Autobots is easy, yet us Decepticons are more difficult. But it HAS awakened things in you that you wish to explore on either side. Things that you are dying to let out.”

You had no words, he was completely right. Damn him! The smug bastard knew he had you in the palm of his hand...and yet also probably knew that’s what made you so hot and bothered right now! “So...what? Are you here to force me to write those things with you in them?”

“Dear Y/N, I can’t technically make you do anything,” Starscream told you. “Oh yes, I can stay and torment you night after night until either I pass onto another universe or I grow bored of you, but my reason being here is for both our benefits.”

“How?”

“It’s quite simple,” he said. “We shall go through those scenarios in your head.” his ruby red optics bore into yours/your eyes. “Together.” he then reached out from in between the bars and traced a digit around your jawline. “Believe it or not, I want to help you, Y/N.” his voice was smooth and sultry, something you never expected from a voice like his. “But only you can allow me to do so.” he then stepped back from the bars. “This prison of mine is something you’ve constructed from your fears and insecurities. Allow yourself to embrace what you fear…” he then extended his hand again, yet stepped back as well, sinking into the darkness. “Only then, will you truly be free.”

You were at a standstill. You knew what he wanted, and, to your horror, you were wanting to give it to him. Deny it all you want, this was something that had been in your mind ever since you got the first request for the Seeker. You approached the bars, trying to get some sign that he was still there. Surely he hadn’t left you, had he? No, he hadn’t. He was still there, you could feel him. Watching, waiting, and perhaps, knowing what you would do before you did.

Yet would you do it? Would you bite into that forbidden fruit?

Some while after pondering this question, you looked at the cell, the energy bars vanishing. Why fight it when you could already taste the sweet tartness of said fruit in the back of your throat?

#starscream g1 #starscream #tfp #transformers bayverse #transformers animated #transformers cyberverse #transformers x reader #lemon #set up #fanfic #reader #self insert #first part

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sunmoonandeddie · 4 years

Text

saturdays

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,467

summary: Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

warnings: Some swearing

a/n: This was my March 2020 one shot for my Patreon that they received early access to. Let me know what y’all think!

Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

Sundays are for sleeping in before eventually making his way to Brooklyn, where he picks up three bouquets and an egg, bacon, and cheese breakfast sandwich from Sal’s bodega before going to the cemetery. He sits against his sister’s tombstone—his parents’ to his right—and eats his late breakfast. He sits and talks for a few hours before leaving the flowers on their graves. He always has to have peonies, since those were Becca’s favorites.

Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays are for training. He wakes up at five in the morning to go running with Sam, something he thought would end when Steve went back to be with Peggy Carter. But he wasn’t bitter. No.

But which thing he wasn’t bitter about, he’d never tell.

Along with the run, he spends most of the day sparring and battling simulations in the gym. He has short breaks for meals, but he pretty much is on go until after dinner, when he goes straight to bed.

But Fridays are his favorite. Because he gets to sleep in until nine-thirty in the morning, which is a luxury he’s not used to. Then Sam and him grab a late breakfast together before Bucky goes into the city for his therapy session.

And Bucky likes his therapist! Which he was really, really surprised about! But Marlene is good. Marlene is good because she doesn’t placate him. She calls him out on his shit, and pushes him forward. Because if it had been up to him, he would’ve stopped seeing her after their third meeting, when she had him drawing with fucking crayons that snapped in his hand way too easily. But it’s been over a year since he started seeing her, and even though he still has his bad days, his bad days now would’ve been his best days before.

“So, you think you’re finally ready to go through Rebecca’s things?” Marlene asks, looking at him with a peaceful expression.

“I don’t think so, I am,” he says firmly, feeling a rush of triumph as a smile spreads across her lips. “It’s time, you know?”

She nods in understanding, humming. “Do you have someone going with you?”

Usually, Sam would go with him for things like this, and just in general. They were attached at the hip, especially after the whole Steve leaving thing.

Yeah, they were both hit pretty hard with that.

“Yes, but I…” He sighs, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “I think this is something I need to do alone. At least, the going through her stuff part… But he is going with me to move the stuff to the Tower.”

“Good, good,” she says, her brows slightly furrowed. “And how are you feeling today about Steve leaving?”

Bucky lets out a huff of air, taking a moment to think about it. “To be completely honest with you… I’m kind of over it today. I have other things to do and yeah, I would’ve liked him to be here for it, but that’s not how it is. And him leaving is more about him than it is about me.” He shrugs, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Just because he decided to go back doesn’t mean he wanted to leave me.”

Marlene sets her clipboard to the side, a warm smile on her face. “Well, Bucky, I think we’ll end today on that thought.” She stands up, offering her hand for him to shake as she does everyday. “You’ve done well today. You should be proud of yourself.”

He leaves with a wave and a “See you next week!” as he always does.

He hadn’t known about the storage unit full of his sister’s stuff until about eight months ago, when he asked Maria Hill if there was anything left of hers. He knew that SHIELD had been the ones to take control of her assets when she had no children, since she was the sister of a Howling Commando and the best friend of Captain America.

Becca had died in December of 2013. He’d missed her by less than six months.

It was heartbreaking when he first found out, and still is, if he was being honest. But at least he has her stuff to go through, even though he has no idea what all is going to be in the storage unit. Stevie hadn’t had anything other than what the Smithsonian had snatched up.

The car ride to the storage facility is quiet, Sam at the wheel. Bucky still hasn’t gotten his license, since he doesn’t see a point. Why should he when there’s the subway and Uber and even just good old fashioned walking? “You’ve gotta save the Earth, Sam,” he says when he really feels like irritating the other man.

“You sure you’re ready for this, man?” Sam asks as they stand in front of storage unit 429.

“Yeah,” Buck says, punching in the key code and lifting up the door. “Yeah, I’m ready.” He flips the light switch on the wall, and is shocked by just how much stuff there is. There’s boxes upon boxes upon boxes.

Sam’s hands go to his hips as he looks at it, whistling. “Alright. Let’s get it loaded.”

It takes several hours and three trips to get everything from the storage unit to the Tower, and by the end of it, the both of them just collapse on the couch with a couple of beers and a pizza to share between them.

But Saturday morning comes bright and early, and even though it’s his only day out of the week where he has absolutely nothing to do, Bucky knows he has to start going through her things.

The first four boxes are just clothes. Clothes upon clothes upon clothes. He finds a baby blue dress that she used to wear for church, starched to perfection, and he holds it to his chest for a long time. He cries then.

And he knows that the fact that she’s hoarded so many clothes has a lot to do from growing up during the Depression. He still finds himself falling into old habits of checking the price of food, despite the fact that he never has to worry about money again with his Avengers salary and the backpay from being a POW.

He finds his parents’ wedding rings, and the string of pearls his ma wore for special occasions.

And then he finds an old shoe box, and when he opens it up, he finds letters. Letters upon letters upon letters. They’re in bundles, tied together with fraying ribbon. The paper is yellowed and soft from being folded and unfolded so many times, and he can see the looping black letters that covered the pages.

He takes the ones that look the oldest and unties them, he takes the top one from the stack and sets the rest to the side, before carefully unfolding it.

“Ruthie,” he says quietly as he reads the name at the bottom, not even bothering to read it yet. “Ruthie…” His eyes pop open as he suddenly remembers, remembers receiving letters everyday from a girl in the Bronx. They were never romantic, but it was nice being able to write to someone and not having to hide how bad it was, like he had to with his ma and Becca. She even sent her picture once, so he could know who he was writing to. “Ruthie!”

He spends the rest of the day reading the letters, and passes out sometime around four in the morning with his face on a letter. He takes the letters with him to his family’s graves the next day, reading to them after he replaces the flowers.

It takes him two more days to finish reading all the letters, in between breaks while training and staying up until he absolutely can’t.

He cries a lot while he reads it. He’s not afraid to admit that. But it’s nice to remember that he had a friend to listen to him during one of the worst times of his life.

Bucky’s almost afraid to look her up, to find out if she was still alive, and if he could go see her, to thank her. They wrote back and forth until the day he fell off the train, and he knows that had to be pretty jarring for her.

But then Sam finds out about the letters—it would be hard for him not to, considering that he was walking around with his nose in the letters for days—and it’s all over.

Turns out, she’s alive. She’s alive, and she’s still in Queens.

He goes the next Saturday, taking his bike all the way to the other borough. He looks a little intimidating and extremely different from how he looked back then, but he hopes she recognizes him. He really, really hopes she recognizes him, because otherwise this’ll be real awkward.

He stands in front of the door for a long time, taking his hands in and out of his pockets about eight times before he finally reaches up and knocks.

And then the door opens, and there’s Ruthie.

Well, not Ruthie, though at first glance, you’re the perfect picture of her. You’ve got her hair and her eyes, and the curve of her lips. But the nose is different.

“Can I help you?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at him. You’re wiping your hand on a hand towel, peering at him like you recognize him from somewhere but you don’t know where.

“Hi, uh,” he says slowly. His throat is suddenly so dry that he can barely talk. “I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes. I was pen pals with—”

He’s cut off by Ruthie herself appearing in the doorway. She’s much older—she is ninety-nine, after all—but it’s definitely her. “Did you say Bucky Barnes?” The little old lady’s eyes widened as she saw him, her hand over her heart. “Oh, my stars, it’s really you. I heard about what happened to you, and I…” She shakes her head, clicking her tongue. “Why, it almost gave me a heart attack, you know.”

“Little Ruthie Pratt from Queens,” he says, reaching in his pocket and holding up the letters. “I found these while, uh, going through my sister’s stuff.”

“I still have mine!” Ruthie says, pulling him inside.

It’s nice and homey and everything that Bucky had thought it would be. The front foyer is covered in photos, and there’s quite a few of you. You’re clearly one of Ruthie’s pride and joys, if the sheer amount of them has anything to do about it.

“I used to read these to my grandbaby here,” Ruthie says as she comes back with an old oak jewelry box in hand. “Anytime she stayed the night—her parents worked a lot when she was growing up—she always asked me to read her one of my ‘Bucky letters.’”

“Grandmama,” you say, cheeks flushing as you avoid his eyes.

“It was so cute! She used to recite them word for word along with me!” Ruthie teases as they go to the living room.

It’s quaint, with soft pastel colors dominating the room. He sits on a floral sofa that’s got a circle with dark hair on it, the marking of a furry friend’s favorite spot. He watches as you move to the kitchen, grabbing a pitcher of what looks like tea and a few glasses.

You sit beside her with the ease of knowing that you belong here, pouring yourself a glass. “Grandmama, do you want some tea?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she opens the box and looks for the oldest one. “You keep that monstrosity away from me,” she says. Seemingly remembering Bucky’s presence, she says, “My daughter’s husband is from Louisiana. Ridiculous man got both her and my grandbaby addicted to that absolute sludge.”

The secret smile you give him as the two of you listen to her tirade about sweet tea makes him feel at ease, and sets the tone for the rest of the afternoon.

Things go on as normal, or as normal as they can.

And Marlene happens to think that all of this is absolutely fantastic for him. She loves that he’s now spending time with Ruthie and you, reconnecting with his past while understanding that he doesn’t have to be the person he was in the letters.

He’s different. He’s not the Bucky that Ruthie knew back then.

It’s an unusually warm day in November four months later when he takes you out for a coffee, just the two of you. And it isn’t a date—really, it isn’t—but he finds himself wanting it to be about halfway through his second coffee.

And that’s why he starts talking about dating to Marlene, who had, quite frankly, been waiting for him to realize his feelings for a while.

“I think I’m in love with her,” he says as he storms into his therapy session, eyes wild and hair a disarray. He’s clearly been worrying real hard about it.

Marlene looks up at him, peering over the silver rim of her glasses. “Oh, really?” She says nonchalantly, as though she doesn’t have you in her notes about him. “And why is that?”

Bucky can’t help the frown on his face as he realizes that she didn’t even ask who he was talking about, because she knew. “I… I don’t know,” he says, slumping into his usual chair. “She makes me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. And she always makes me laugh, even at the most inappropriate of times.” His gaze softens the more he thinks about you. “And she isn’t scared of me. She doesn’t judge me. She’s read about everything I did in the war, even before HYDRA, and she doesn’t care.” His hands are sweating as he rubs them together. “Actually, it’s not that she doesn’t care—she does care—but she cares because she… she loves me.”

You love him. And sure, he knows that. You’ve said that you love him multiple times, even if you only mean it as a friend way.

But the thought that he has someone who loves him that doesn’t have to is… groundbreaking.

“She loves me, and she wants me to be okay,” he says, looking up at Marlene then.

His therapist has a pleased look in her eyes, even if she won’t let it show with a smile. “I think she’s good for you,” she says simply, her pen held loosely in her hand. “Are you seeing her again soon?”

“I’m seeing her tomorrow night,” he says, his heart growing light. “We’re grabbing a few drinks to celebrate her finally graduating from cosmetology school.”

It’s a big deal for you, completely something. You’re smart, there’s no denying that, but when it comes to schooling… You’d done well in high school, but college proved to be the bane of your existence.

You’d dropped out in the middle of your junior year, and that had been it. You’d moved to Queens to live with Ruthie after, working various low level jobs and trying to find something that fit.

But you’d fit in at cosmetology school. Hell, you excelled. And you enjoyed it! You enjoyed waking up in the morning and going to your classes!

You cried when you got your certificate, and it was now framed in Ruthie’s house until you start your first salon job in two weeks.

“Are you going to tell her about your feelings?” Marlene asks curiously.

Now that makes him pause.

“... Should I?” Bucky asks, feeling a wave of anxiety coming over him. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way? And she sees me as just a friend?”

“If she’s really your friend, she won’t abandon you just because you tell her you have romantic feelings for her.”

“You sure about that?”

Marlene fixes him with a look, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Fine. You’re sure,” he says, slumping a little in his chair. “Doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

She snorts, making a note on her pad. “I never said it was going to be easy, Bucky. Doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

The next night, he spends an hour and a half trying to decide what to wear. “It shouldn’t be this hard,” he grumbles as he switches shirts for the forty-ninth time. “It’s just drinks.”

Sam, however, is having a great time watching his new best friend freak out over seeing a girl for the first time. “I mean, she already agreed to going out with your ugly mug, man. It’s not gonna matter what you wear.”

And in some way, that helps. A little.

But he does have to threaten Sam with bodily harm if he spies on his date that’s not really a date.

He almost boxes him the ear when he insists for the fourth time that it’s a date.

He shows up at your door with a bouquet of flowers from Sal’s bodega, the buttons of his dark blue henley left open, exposing a smattering of chest hair.

When you open the door, the air is knocked from his lungs. You look absolutely radiant. The light from the sinking sun is giving you a halo-like glow, and he’s sure, not for the first time, that you’re an actual angel.

“Hi,” you say, a flush on your cheeks as you see the flowers. “Are those… Are those for me?”

He nods dumbly, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. “Y-Yes,” he says, pushing them into your arms. “As a congrats. For, you know, graduating. And stuff.”

“Thank you,” you say as you take them, handing them to Ruthie.

She’s standing just inside the door, a giddy look on her face as she holds the flowers, watching you take the motorcycle helmet from his hands. “Have her back by twelve!”

“Grandmama!”

“Fine! Twelve-thirty!”

You’re clearly embarrassed by her antics as he helps you on behind him, guiding your arms around his waist.

“You ready?” He asks, his voice breathy.

A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, wrapping your arms tighter around him as he starts the bike, taking off.

“She doesn’t actually mean that,” you say as he leads you into the tiny, out of the way bar. You’re fixing your hair, trying your best to appear presentable. “I’m grown, you know. I don’t… I don’t have a curfew.”

A slow smile spreads over his lips as he listens to you ramble. “I know,” he says finally, figuring he should put you out of your misery. “Ruthie does like to tease those she loves.”

The bar is quaint, clearly a local place that tourists haven’t invaded. He leads you to a high table, calling out your order to the lone bartender.

“So, I—”

“I like you,” Bucky says, unintentionally cutting you off with a wince. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I really, really like you, and I really, really want this to be a date, but if you don’t feel the same way then I completely understand and we can just forget that I ever said anything and everything can just go back to normal and that might be the best thing because, quite frankly, I haven’t dated since the forties and I have no idea how dating is supposed to work nowadays, but I’d really like to try it with you but only if you—”

His rambling is cut off as you place your hand on his, intertwining your fingers. “Okay,” you say, like it’s the easiest thing ever. “It’s a date.”

He stares at you for an embarrassingly long time, his mouth dry. “Uh… What?” He says quietly. His heart is pounding at an unnaturally fast pace, and he honestly thinks he might be on the verge of a heart attack.

“I like you, too,” you say, smiling at the bartender as he brings you over your drinks. You look so beautiful, your eyes the brightest thing in the dim lighting of the bar. “So this is a date.”

“Okay,” he breathes out, a wave of relief washing over him. “It’s a date.”

He’s a little starstruck as you continue on with what you were going to say before, a pink blush dusting his cheeks. Your hand stays in his for the rest of the night, occasionally giving a little squeeze as though you’re reminding him that you’re still there and you’re not going to disappear.

And it feels good.

And okay, Marlene may have been right.

And yeah, Fridays might be good. But as he sits there with you until the late hours of the night, he’s sure: Saturdays are his new favorite day. Because Saturdays brought him a new beginning when he wasn’t expecting it.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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reylofanfictionanthology · 3 years

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TO FIND YOUR KISS IS NOW LIVE!

Authors will be revealed next week! For now all fics are anonymous. Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21. We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars for abbytheatre08

The prompt: After Ben's death, Rey goes mad and turns to the dark side. Only Ben's not dead anymore. ----------------------- She is consuming fire, magnificent in her rage. She will burn the galaxy to its foundations, until the ashes rain down and pile high as mountains. She will gather them into bouquets and scatter them like petals upon his grave.

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained for AlwaysEverlark

The first time she walked into his club, she was looking for a job. Kylo took one look at her—the stubborn pout of her lip, the determined glint in her eyes, the ruddy glow of her face where the sun had kissed it—and swallowed a lump in his throat that was shaped like the words you’re too good for this place.

They needed a singer. Kira Johnson could hold a tune, knew the old standards, and had a knockout pair of tits to boot. A few slinky ballgowns and a touch of lipstick, and she’d more than do the trick of distracting suckers long enough to part them from their money.

The club solely needed to break even; anything they made on top of the Syndicate’s cut was gravy, and Kylo Ren had been lining his pockets with his own take for long enough that he could see Kira for the lump of clay that she was: rough-hewn, misshapen, but soft and supple and sure to curve under his touch.

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions for Andrina_Nightshade

After visiting an old Sith temple, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has fallen into a deep sleep when he pricks his finger on the point of a red crystal. Rey become is the first to find him, but his rescuer isn't just any general or pilot, it's the woman he shares a soul with, who haunts his waking hours, who still sees him even in his sleep.

- The Dyad for aneighthdomain

Based of the Prompt: Groundhog Day scenario. Ben and Rey keep getting sent back to the first time they met and no matter what they do, Ben always dies so they stop trying to change events and just live a life time in the year between and couple of weeks and run away together.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains for AnneAnna

- The Delegation for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- i don't want you like a best friend for anopendoor

It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming—Rose told her weeks ago that he was invited. It was an inevitability Rey was always going to have to face, she just didn’t think that Rose would be so merciful as to also give every guest a plus one.

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In for Blueyedgurl

Never in her wildest dreams did Rey Johnson think she would ever get to meet her favorite other Kylo Ren. She also would have never entertained the idea of the scenario she found herself in. How did a hike in the woods lead to a snowstorm and taking shelter in a remote cabin in the woods? The idea was so ridiculous but had become reality. Stuck inside with a handsome stranger surrounded by a winter storm, Rey wonders what will happen with no power and only one bed. Will they be polite co-habitants stuck in a strange set of circumstances or is there room for something more?

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance for Crysania

When Rey and Ben, long time co-workers who have never been able to admit their feelings to each other, go on a weekend retreat to work on a movie adaptation script together, a Nor’easter leaves them snowed in. On Valentine’s Day.

- Awake for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) for DoorKeeper9

- The Canvas of Your Skin for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- Fleeing the Storm for driverfever

As the granddaughter of an merciless aristocrat, Rey’s life hangs on a thread at the hands of the French Revolutionaries. When her childhood friend, Ben, offers to platonically marry her in order to take her to his home in England to safety, she has no choice but to accept.

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure for dustoftheancients

When Princess Rey of Coruscant calls upon the cursed Sir Kylo Ren to help her escape her grandfather the emperor’s political machinations, she discovers freedom in the ancient familial magic that binds them together.

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability for Evangel10n

Benimina Solo has never, not even once, had an ounce of Force Sensitivity. She's done a great deal to move on with her life after failing out of her uncle's Jedi training school. So when Rey Palpatine comes into her life and suddenly everything changes, she's not a happy camper.

- Splatter for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary for firelord65

Kaydel pressed her lips together in a thin line, passing a pile of datapads over the desk. “I don’t know what that pretentious nerf herder has put into your brain, but these are tales of the key roles women have played in past rebellions.” She stood, tapping the pile. “They’re great reads,” she added, with a pointed raise of her eyebrow.

- and they danced across the sky for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

They seemed to be calling him, aiding him each instance that icy-cold darkness flowed through his very veins. The magnificent creatures saved him from the voices. They drowned out the incessant chatter in his head. Temporarily cleared away all the anger. During those brief respites, watching those blue wings flutter in the sky, Ben felt free.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable for HopeRebel

The woman in the mirror has blood on her clothes, cash in her bag, and a letter from her husband telling her it's better to forget. Well, he got his wish. She forgot everything-- including her name. And she wasn't the only one afflicted.

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh for irridesca

During the last song in Maxine’s set, a song she announces is called “Soul Companion,” Ben heads back out to the lobby to look for Rey. He finds her not with his eyes but with one broad shoulder, when he bumps into her and knocks her gig bag out of her hands and onto the plush carpet.

- and they were roommates for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- If You Take Me for literallynoonecares

She sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- 3 Days in Vienna for Like_A_Dove

Kylo Ren, trained mercenary Alpha assassin, is on a mission—assassinate Chancellor Palpatine and bring his underground authoritarian regime to an end. It’s what the First Order demands, for the better of society.

It should be an easy task. He’s been getting close to the Chancellor and his cronies for years. So how is it that the unexpected appearance of an Omega, with a seemingly similar mission—and a wholly inconveniencing scent—become a distraction he hadn’t accounted for?

- Confidence and Desire for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves for LRRH17

No one knows since when the giant, black bear has lived in the forest near Theed. Many stories about the origin of Kylo Ren circulate in the small village. After Rey has run away from Jakku, and arrived in Theed she has heard them all of, but has never actually meet the creature. This changes when her and her friends get attacked by bandits on their way back from Otoh Gunga.

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side for Lutrosis

Rey's daughter loses her mother as she wanders around the Supermarket. Ben finds her and the two connect over both being Type 1 diabetics. They find Rey, and Ben and Rey are instantly smitten. As they date and fall in love they discover that Jade and Ben are connected more than they thought and healing is brought to the Solo/Skywalker clan.

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life for maq_moon

“Boys, please stop arguing.” Rose rubbed her temples. “Poe, we get it, you’re childhood best buddies, you’ve got a better grasp on his character than some rando of a rando you met at a party. Finn, for fuck’s sake, we’ve been working with Ben for months. I’m pretty sure if he’s a serial killer or whatever, it would have come out by now.” Finn sat back in his seat, grumbling. “Not how serial killers work.” Rey was going to have a headache if this continued any longer, so she lied through her teeth at the reality of a new player joining their D&D party. "He seems nice." She didn’t trust a single inch of skin on that man. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

- A Mad Man, with a Box for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In for midwinterspring

Kylo Ren, the mysterious senator who appeared from out of the deserts of Jakku and somehow brought them back to life, has spent a long and unproductive session on Hosnian Prime. Now, it's time to go home. After all, there's someone waiting for him and so much for them to do together.

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party for MissCoppelia

Rey goes back to visit her foster mother for a Purim celebration. She meets Ben Solo who's visiting his parents, who are friends with her foster mother. They have an attraction to each other right away, but try to play it cool.

- The Banished Heart for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

Jakku is a withering outpost of the kingdom, and its people hope the new wizard - the mysterious Kylo Ren - will bring them the rains the land needs to heal. Rey is a lonely, clanless girl living in Niima, and she has a secret. One she hopes the wizard will be able to help her with too.

- The Smuggler's Bride for MyJediLife

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- Annabel Lee for myownlittleinfinity

Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.

- with my body i thee worship for niennathegrey

- the losing game for no_big_deal

Sith Princess Rey Palpatine is given a peculiar gift for her Life Day: a Jedi. Not only that, one who is boorish, spirited, and stubborn. But, he presents an opportunity: one that could liberate her from a life under the thumb of her grandfather. She has seven weeks to change his heart before all her freedom is taken from her - forever.

- standing right in front of you for notkellymarie

When Senator Solo's engagement is pushed forward, he and his Jedi bodyguard, Rey, travel to Naboo alone for the announcement ball. The pair despise each other, constantly bickering and disagreeing with each other, which makes spending extensive amounts of time alone together all that more difficult. Until of course, one of them breaks...

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling for OccasionallyCreative

Ben Solo is a seasoned smuggler. And he’s not bad at it, either. But when bounty hunter Rey offers him a temporary partnership he can’t refuse, Ben will find himself pushed to the limits of his skill, patience, and resourcefulness on a job that’s dangerous enough to be his last.

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war for politicalpadmé

“He traded his life for mine,” Rey choked, stomping back and forth in front of him so fast he could barely keep track of her. “He died. He died so I didn’t have to—and it’s not—it’s—after everything he’s gone through—it’s not fair.” Tears were running down her cheeks now, and Poe wanted to do nothing more than hug her, but there was nothing he could say—nothing she would want to hear. Poe remembered all the people he’d lost, all the times he had raged and screamed and cried about the unfairness of it all. “Leia sacrificed herself to bring him back,” Rey declared suddenly, ceasing her constant pacing around the fire as she looked straight at him. “And he sacrificed himself for me—and now no one’s going to know. All he’ll be remembered as is Kylo Ren, but he was—he was so much more.” She exhaled with a shudder and whispered, “He was a part of me, and I—I don’t feel whole without him.” ~

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You for Prix

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. She was starting to show, and her friends would start asking questions. She would have to give them answers, some of them would not understand, and none of them would accept.

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

During her search for the infamous Luke Skywalker — the man who predicted a devastating earthquake in New Madrid, Missouri — Rey finds herself entangled in Luke’s family history and with his brooding nephew, Ben Solo.

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer for Reykenobi68

Rey had started to get used to Ben not living next door anymore by the time the holidays came around. Then he's back for the holidays. Rey is really expecting things to go wrong after the way he left at the end of the summer. ut is it really going to be that bad.

- The Long Way Home for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings. It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight for shariling

I don't know why I followed you here. She wanted to reply. Maybe because you're so tall I couldn't help but notice you. Maybe it's because of your hair or the way you move, or maybe it's because of that kind of melancholic look in your eyes. There is something about you that I find terribly attractive and I don’t know what it is: maybe the moon or the alcohol or the wolf I have met before infected me with some strange parasite and now I am hopelessly attracted to dogs, I do not know. She could have said one of these things, any of them, instead she said: “I've never bitten anyone before, and I want you to be my first.”

- Fallen for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

It's impossible not to have a soulmark. It's not a big deal, not in the lax and gin-soaked speakeasies of 1920s Manhattan, but it's still a heavy weight to bear, as Ben Solo and Rey find out side by side.

- Lips Raw With Love for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes for Takekurabehime

Jedi Knight Ben Solo is sent to Naboo on an errand of mercy (and to visit his grandparents). He arrives in springtime; but will he be able to complete his mission without finding himself distracted and bewildered when love and intrigue waft through the fragrant air?

- Glitter & Gold for TearoomSaloon

Rey is lead singer in an up-and-coming glam metal band. They've finally got steady performances, but that means playing at the same club as the Knights of Ren, whose lead singer definitely isn't interested in any competition.

- To kiss like lovers do for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Ben and Rey spend their formative years growing up together in Medieval Scotland and it looks like they will end up together. Circumstances intervene and Rey loses her chance to be with him. Devastated, she carries on until the day clan Ren attacks Castle Jakku lead by the notorious killer Kylo Ren.

- Snow Turns To Rain for thehobbem

For a moment, he wanted to ask what she meant, but if he was being completely honest, he already knew. He asked himself that same question over the years, and none more often than tonight, since seeing her again. Was leaving worth it? Was going their separate ways worth leaving each other?

“I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head. “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work. I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

“But?”

“But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

“What do you mean no one goes in there?” A chuckle. “It’s haunted. People see all sorts of weird things in there and some don’t ever come out. You’re better off living with your curiosity.” Rey wakes in a shadowy forest with no memory of where she came from, only her name. With the help of the resident guardian she takes a journey to figure out her past, and maybe even discover her future.

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) for Thursdaygirl

As they continue to work together, two things become clear. One: Ben Solo is an enigma. He’s preppy yet humble, privileged yet introspective. He’s the opposite of lazy; she kicks herself every day for assuming otherwise. And two: Ben Solo will never love her.

- show me the stars. for tmwillson3

“I don’t hate Christmas, I just don’t love it the way you do.” Lifting his head, he pulls a face, loosening up a tangled ornament of a poodle with pink, curly fluff. Rey snatches it from him possessively, tossing it back to the cart. “No one loves it the way you do, to be fair.”

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) for writergenie

In the aftermath of the Battle of Crait, Rey struggles to find her place among the Resistance. However, her lingering Force bond with Kylo— Ben— whatever name he calls himself— complicates things, blurring the line between friend and foe.

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) for XarisEirene

The bond snaps back into place, even stronger than before. He is here. With Rey, yes, but with Luke - Luke, who is looking at them now with that same dangerous glint in his eye that haunts Ben’s dreams.

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #to find your kiss #master post #mod post #photo edit

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lackingspace · 4 years

Text

Vindictive (Ghostface x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Danny is jealous and that’s your fault.

Warnings: Rough oral sex, degradation, humiliation, dirty talk, cum swallowing, light daddy kink, Danny just being Danny.

A/N: Had a request for a Jealous Danny. Here it is! I hope you like it. Sorry its taken so long! ･ﾟﾟ･(>д<)･ﾟﾟ･

When you were first dropped in this place you’d been confused, scared, and a little more than annoyed because what the fuck had you done to land yourself here? After the first few freak outs of death and despair, being sacrificed, and the general malaise of being here became your new normal. Falling into a routine became easy after that- trial, struggle, escape if you were lucky, die if you weren’t, and repeat.

Quite frankly, things were getting boring. The others trapped with you made it better, talking, joking around on occasion- friends forged in unfortunate circumstances. It was a tiny slice of normality that you were grateful for because who knows how long you’d been here or would be here. Time didn’t mean anything when there was really no way to measure it. You just knew that it was far longer than you’d have liked. Long enough to become numb to the killers and their brutal treatment. To find them not so threatening and more of an inconvenience.

You missed the real world. Missed the simple things in life- a walk in the park, meeting up with friends, food- God did you miss food. But what you missed the most was an intimate connection. And sex. You definitely missed sex. Relieving tension and having something to distract you from this monotonous existence would have been a blessing.

None of the others trapped with you really appealed to you. Sure Jake was cute, and Yui had that badass look, even Ash had the daddy thing going for him...but none of them really set your nerves on fire. At least not even enough to try it out and spend eternity awkwardly if it didn’t fly. But damn did you need release. so with no options for a partner, you settled on sneaking away into the woods to take care of yourself.

And that’s how he found you. One hand down your pants and the other up your shirt, eyes closed, head tossed back, and softly moaning. He’d leaned against the tree directly in front of you and waited quietly until you opened your eyes. You’d almost had a heart attack when you opened them to see Ghostface casually leaning there while staring you down. It was altogether embarrassing but still had your senses buzzing.

All he did was firmly tell you to keep going. That he was enjoying the show. And something about it, his voice? The command? It just worked for you. Maybe it was the combination of him being dangerous, a killer- someone familiar, but not, an unknown that made your senses tingle mixed with his nonchalant attitude and that damned voice that made your toes curl. So you’d done what he’d asked and kept going.

That marked the start of whatever it was you had going on with Ghostface. At first, it was just hooking up- sneaking away when you saw him lurking and wandering back with a few new pleasurable aches, pains, and bruises. You were sure some of your friends noticed- you knew for a fact Bill, Ace, and David did. The raised brows they’d give you on occasion told you that you were found out. That they knew a clandestine meet up just took place. As long as they knew what you were up to, just not with who, you didn't care. For all they knew it could be another survivor who hadn't wandered back from a trial yet because who would be fucking a killer?

You were content with ignoring them and they seemed fine with not questioning. Besides, it wasn't their business and you have no plans on stopping because it was something you enjoyed- it unquestionably helped deal with the mental stress of repeatedly dying. After a while though, and you really couldn’t pinpoint when, it turned into something a little more. At least for you.

Made you unnecessarily giddy when he was the killer in your trials. Both of you more playful in chases, he had a habit of drawing those out with you, grabbing your ass before letting you run away only for him to ambush you, down you, and then run his hands up all over you before picking you up.

If he caught you jumping through a window? You better expect a few well-placed slaps while he teased all sorts of dirty things he'd do to you once he had you alone.

You didn’t want to admit it, but feelings had reared their ugly head in you for this sarcastic bastard. You caught yourself being soft for him when you really shouldn’t have. Honestly, you felt a little bad because you weren’t the best teammate if he was the killer of the trial. You should have been focusing on gen rushing, saves, or even trying to distract him- which you were more than capable of doing.

But instead, you found yourself being distracted by him. You'd be there staring, sighing while watching him sneak around. Giggle to yourself about how much of a sadistic bastard he was when in a chase. And if he found you? And God did you want him to- you were even more useless. You weren’t fooling anyone with your pseudo-chase. You didn’t really try to escape but that was ok, both of you liked it that way. You always blamed it as an off match when questioned why you’d done so poorly. No one seemed to notice it was only during a trial with him, and you were totally fine with that.

So that was how your existence was for now. Honestly, you weren’t mad about it either. His attention in and out of trials gave you back a spark that had been dulled after one too many sacrifices. This trial was no different, you found yourself relaxed, good-spirited, and snickering at a comment Zarina just made. When the gen popped you looked over to see Jane shaking a hand with a mumbled apology. A second later she let out a shriek and started running away.

You knew what that meant and so you tried to gauge if you should sneak away as well, but you hadn’t seen what she had. Would've been nice if she’d have at least said the killer before sprinting off, but you understood sometimes they just caught you off guard and fight or flight took over.

Cautiously looking around you decided it was best just to move on, Zarina had the moment Jane ran. You probably waited around too long and would get caught, but at least you'd be prepared after you got off the hook. The fact that you hadn’t heard any footsteps or seen anyone usually meant it was someone stealthy too. You really didn’t want the shape. He was always terrible to play against in this underground lab. Harder to outmaneuver him within the space. Hope welled inside you that it was your...boyfriend? well, whatever he was, you wanted Ghostface. Trying to quietly sneak away seemed like it was going fine until you were suddenly stopped.

Something had gripped the back of your shit and yanked. You stumbled and then felt yourself being dragged around a corner only to have your face pressed against a wall. You were pretty sure you knew who it was, but shit why was he being so rough?

“So that’s the game you want to play, huh?” Your wish came true, it was your sarcastic boo, Ghostface- you had no idea what he was talking about though, “What the hell do you mean? What’s th-” he cut you off as he pressed in against your back while placing a hand in front of your smashed face, “Don’t give me that. You know damn well what I’m talking about.” He said it with so much venom dripping in his voice, you’d never actually heard him like that before.

He was usually snide, sarcastic, kinda dark, sometimes angry, but this? He sounded well beyond any of that. And it was all aimed at you….shit.

“Dude, I really” He pressed a forearm to the twisted side of your neck and gripped your shoulder. You winced at the pressure, “Really have no idea what you’re talking about. What game?” There was silence as you felt cold sweat run down your spine. In that same vicious tone, he answered as his grip tightened on your shoulder, “I saw you and that bastard.”

You wracked your brain trying to figure out what he meant. It had to have been something in this trial, he wasn’t upset when you’d seen him be-- oh god it hit you just like that. You’d slipped and would have had a nasty face-first fall into some crates, barrels, and a pallet, but Ace had grabbed you. Unfortunately, it’d been by the hips and as soon as he got you up he’d apologized for the placement while patting a shoulder.

He must have seen that. It had to be what he was talking about….But did that mean....was he jealous? His knife suddenly stabbed into the wall next to your face, ohhh, even if he denied it you could tell, he was. There was no question with the growl in his voice, the tight grip he had- which you’d like to point out was only getting tighter, and now the knife threateningly in your face? This wasn’t his normal rational ‘let me weasel my way in, tease, and manipulate to my advantage’, this screamed irritated topped with irrational.

And even though your brain screamed it was an awfully bad idea, you were going to have fun with it.

“Not even going to deny it? You little fucking whore.” The rage in his voice felt like someone had submerged you in acid. It really did make your skin crawl that he thought you’d do something like that. After everything the two of you got up to he should have realized how much his dick did it for you. And only his dick. That aside, you weren’t going to just lay down and take his attitude. Nope, not at all. If he was going to be a jealous prick then you were going to be a coy bitch. It might land you in hot water, but you were hoping it was the kind you liked with him, “Oh, but Ghostface, I thought you liked it when I was bent over?”

The arm still pinning across the back of your neck lifted off quicker than lightning only to move into your hair and rip your head back with a snarl, “Only when your bent in front of me you little cunt!” You moaned at the pain in your scalp but still enjoyed the feeling. It sent some nice jolting tingles straight to your nipples, “But I was in front of you.” The grip in your hair was impossibly tight as the knife scraped against the wall as it moved from next to your face to press against your newly exposed throat. Ignoring that you pressed on, “You’re just pissed that it wasn’t your hands on me.”

Even with his knife millimeters away from cutting into you and the very real possibility that he was beyond reasoning, would just slit your throat and throw you up to hang- there was still an overwhelming feeling of bravado and the need to tease just as much as his anger was crushing down on you.

With that feeling overflowing, you took the chance before he responded to push just a little more, “In fact, I bet you’re mad because you couldn't make me stay like that.” Wiggling under his tight grip had your hair pulling and the knife pressing harder into your throat- a wet trickle down the side told you skin broke, “Bet you would have fucked me right there too. Let my friends see who's been giving it to me.” The hiss he let out had a smirk clawing its way onto your lips. That feeling of getting under his skin made it impossible to keep your next thought locked inside, “Too bad it was just Ace...His rough hands grabbing me, having him pressing against me, he could have pushed me however he’d wanted...too bad it wasn’t you.”

Growling out, “You little bitch.” he quickly pulled his knife away as he pressed his hips into yours- he must have liked what you'd said because he was half-hard already. Pulling your hair harder had you moaning out at both the rough treatment of your scalp and the hard length now pressed against your ass. A hot flush circulated your system as relief filled you- The fact that he hadn’t plunged the knife in was a good sign. It seemed like your gamble had paid off.

You moved your hips against his as he leaned in to hiss in your ear, “You’re fucking right I would have fucked you right there. Would have shown that prick exactly who you belong to.”

His knife hand grabbed your hip in a bruising grip and directed you how he liked, “I should just throw you up on a fucking hook with your tits out and my name carved across your chest for everyone to see.” Another wave of heat flushed through you at that, Would he? That’d be embarrassing as hell and you really did not want to explain that to your friends, at least not yet. But it sent heat through you all the same. "Show them how nasty you really are." On second thought explaining wouldn't be that big of an issue. Your squirming gave away how much you liked the thought, which he pointed out, “Of course a dirty girl like you gets off on that. I shouldn't even let you come. Should just use you and make you wait until you're really fucking sorry. ”

Ignoring that last part to focus on his phrasing. He had said should, which implied that he was questioning it, so you asked in a shaky voice, “But?” Between his hands and his hips, you couldn’t hold back the moan at the pleasurable drag of him against your ass- he was only getting harder, “But nothing, I might just fucking do that...either way, they're going to talk. ” The hand in your hair released and reached around to hold your cheeks in a harsh grip, “I’m going to teach you a fucking lesson because it seems like my mouthy whore needs to be reminded of who she belongs to and what that means. They get free tickets to the show...Lucky them.”

The venom was still there, but instead of the pure angry tone from before, it was colored by an undercurrent of something darker- something hotter. Something that told you on an instinctual level you wouldn’t be walking the same if the entity didn’t have pity and heal whatever he was about to punish you with. Fuck, you wanted it though. Wanted all the pleasurable pain he was about to dish out to you. “You’re going to regret letting that bastard anywhere near you.”

Your brain wasn’t functioning not when he’d just declared he wanted everyone to hear him fucking you. See the evidence of it. Threatening it like he’d done about carving up your tits was a hot possibility, but he was actually serious about this. You weren’t sure what it was he was going to do to you, but you could tell you most certainly weren’t going to be quiet about it.

Ghostface could get rough sometimes, but it wasn’t the usual. Demanding? Yes. Controlling? Definitely. Explicit? Absolutely. But being rough just to be rough was generally only when he was especially frustrated, and that wasn’t often. Maybe only a handful of times since you’d been together and at this point, you weren’t even sure how long that was, all you knew was that it’d been a while.

Which boasted to how much this affected him. How jealous he was seeing something that really, really hadn’t been anything at all. It should have turned you off, sent you running by how possessive he was, but you ignored that in favor of knowing he got you wetter than anyone else had ever done before. There was no way he’d admit to being jealous though, not outright, but you knew that’s what this was all about and fuck did that work for you. Having him teach you a lesson? All you could do was moan at the prospect.

“Such an eager slut for it even after knowing your friends are gonna see. So pathetic.” You whined, whether in protest or confirmation it wasn’t clear, “You think it’s ok to let someone else put their hands on what’s mine? That’s not going to work, kitten.” at the pet name you knew this was going to be fun- but you couldn’t let him know that though, would have to turn up the waterworks, “We’re going to show them just what a disgusting whore you really are for me. Let them see you taking my cock and how you beg for it.”

He shoved you down to your knees. The impact against the hard concrete making you wince, “Good, feel the sting. Better get used to it because your throat is about to feel it too.” he was going to fuck your face? God. You loved when he made you choke on it and you could tell with how aggressive he was you really were going to choke.

The thumb on the hand on your face swiped across your bottom lip, dipping in to press down on your tongue causing some drool to slip down before regripping your face with the now wet appendage, “You’re going to open wide and let Daddy use this pretty mouth of yours while we let all your little fucking friends know whos been sending you back to that fucking fire pit covered in bruises.” Goddamn that set your nerves ablaze and if your panties hadn’t already been drenched that was added insurance. He was usually subtly possessive but this was flat out plain as day possessive and it had you crying for it.

You didn't care anymore. You didn't give a single fuck if you had to explain why they'd caught you with a mouth full of Ghostface's cock- and maybe more. if this meant him declaring to everyone that you were his you’d happily tell them to fuck off if they had any issues.

You were going to beg him for it, but the hand gripping your face prevented anything escaping outside of mumbled strained moans. He answered for you though because he forcefully made you nod up and down. In a mocking falsetto, he voiced for you, “Yes, sir. I’ll open up like a good girl and apologize with my filthy mouth. I'll show you how sorry I am for letting some asshole put their hands on me.”

Yes, fuck yes! is wanted to say, but all that came out was a garbled moan through your closed mouth. At the sound, his grip tightened, “Such a fucking slut. Would you have moaned for that fuck too?” At your muffled outrage his grip forced your gaze up, “At least you fucking know better on that.”

You thought he would release you to undo his pants, but after a second of silence and you quietly looking at him, he said, "well? Get to apologizing with that pretty mouth before I decide to gut you instead." Ah, he wanted you to do it. That was fine by you, didn't really want him to let go of your hair anyways. You opened his pants with ease, already intimately familiar with the clasps and he squeezed your cheeks forcing your mouth open before he finally released the grip as you took him in.

He was hard and pulsing when you pulled him out, precome just slightly swelling at the tip. He would have shoved into your still open mouth if it hadn’t been for the entranced look you were giving him. The affectionate desperation you wore while staring helped quell the rage clawing through him. He decided he'd let you play for a second, seeing you so willing to drool for him tore against the need to roughly shove down your throat.

Unabashedly licking a hand before wrapping it tightly around his base to give him a rough tug. Staring up at his mask again you pleaded with him, "I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t do it on purpose." Teasing his tip against your lips before you kissed the head, "I don't want him. Or any of them. Wanted it to be you" Licking the underside followed by a few gentle nibbles to the base made his breath catch, "Always you, daddy."

His cock twitched against your tongue as he hissed, "And I like that they'll know. I want them to hear what you're about to do to me." He retightened his fist in your hair to pull your head back slightly. He took himself from your hands to slap his cock across your cheeks, "Yeah? You're gonna get off on them hearing your mouth full of killer cock? Filthy thing." You whined desperately trying to nod against his grip, "Then open fucking wide." You dropped your mouth quicker than he finished speaking and you were rewarded with another slap across your cheek before you felt him rest heavy against your tongue.

It was hard not to close around him and start working on the shaft, but you could tell he wasn't going to let you warm up to it. He wanted you wrecked- a gagging crying used looking mess. And the heat that sent through you had your clit pulsing in want and made you squirm around for some type of relief. But you'd be a good girl and take it for him.

"Keep your fucking eyes on me and don't you dare try to keep quiet. You better make as much noise as you fucking can." Before you could answer he was shoving to the back of your throat and down. The choked sob you made was just what he wanted as you gagged around him. Sliding down your throat, he mockingly cooed, “Aw, is that too much? Don’t lie, I know you can take it, kitten. Just relax and swallow like my good girl. Impress all your survivor friends.”

You gagged hard and sputtered around him while he kept thrusting using the grip in your hair to hold you in place, “Don’t even try to deny it. You’re always gagging for it regularly. I bet those little boys wish they were here in this tight wet heat instead.” His voice was strained and you could hear him holding back his own moans.

Gripping his thighs tightly while trying to relax like he'd suggested, but the burning stretch of your throat was hard to ignore, “But that's why we started this, huh?” his thrusts had been rapid and shallow, but were turning slower while he held in your throat longer, “None of their cocks would do it for you.” Swallowing around him only made him hold deeper, “ For as much of a dirty slut you are, none of them could get you going like I can.”

Tears were freely falling- leaving tracks down your cheeks, drool was constantly spilling out, your throat ached at the persistent gagging, and the obscene noises you were making with each thrust was driving the both of you wild. “None of them. None...of...those...pricks!” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, “No one can fuck you like I do.” You moaned sloppily around his cock in agreement, “ They’re not going to throat fuck you like this. And they not going to bend you over and make you fucking take it like daddy.” crying out around him just as much as you were gagging- near constantly and God did you love it.

You’d be begging for him to fuck you if you didn’t have a mouthful at the moment. So instead you were squirming, tightly gripping his thighs, tears continued to spill down, and taking anything he gave you. He knew you well enough to know what your pathetic looks and sounds meant, but he wasn’t folding, “Aw, do you want something?” all that came out were some choked sobs, “What's that? I can’t really understand you.” He shoved completely down your throat and held your head there causing you to swallow and make some disgusting throat sounds, “You should really learn not to talk with your mouth full, kitten.” He tutted at you while you sobbed harder, “ But I can’t expect any manners on such a dirty girl.”

His hand tightening and his voice gaining a shakiness betrayed how close he was even if he looked like the picture of control, “You’re not meant for them.” His pace quickened, “Your place is right fucking here.” He was using both hands to direct your head now, “On your goddamn knees for me.” He pulled out as he ripped your head back, “Gone on, tell them who fucking owns this you!” It only took you a second to catch your breath before you were rasping out his name, “Ghostface! I’m yours, just yours!” Movement in your peripheral caused your eyes to widen, someone was definitely watching. Maybe they all were, but you wouldn’t fuck this up by looking over to them. Who knows what he’d do then.

You could hear how smug he was when he whispered, “Yeah they’re fucking watching. Saw you choking on it like a professional. Now show them how much of a cumslut you are for me and beg for it. If you do it good enough, maybe I’ll be nice and let you cum before the end of the trial.” Denying him wasn’t even a question, you’d said you wanted them to hear and now they had. The satisfaction that at least one of them knew was sending a burning hot pulse through you.

So you started begging with your raw voice, “Please, I need it Ghostface! I want it so bad! Need your cum! I wanna taste it so bad. Please! Please, daddy, can I have it?!” He was still pumping his cock in front of your face while you continued to say his name like a prayer, “Open that pretty mouth for me, Babe.” You did as you were told and opened wide while staring up at his mask. The hand not working himself gripped your chin, sliding his thumb inside before moving back up into your hair to yank your head where he wanted. Keeping your mouth open as far as you could you moaned for it.

You could see more movement to the side, but you ignored it when you felt the first spurt of his cum splash against your cheek. He covered your face before giving you the last on your waiting tongue. “Keep your mouth open.” You heard the telltale clicks of his camera and embarrassment flushed through you just as a new wave of arousal settled low in your stomach. “You can swallow it now.” You made a show of savoring the taste for him, and anyone watching.

Slowly opening your eyes you could feel your lashes heavy with his cum. You moved to wipe some of it away, but he caught your wrist, “You’re going to leave that right where it is.” You gave him a questioning look that he answered with, “I’m going to hang you up on that hook and you're going to run around the rest of this trial with it on your face.” Your jaw dropped as your face burned. That was so fucking embarrassing. You’d think that wouldn’t bother you since you let everyone watch you be thoroughly face fucked but having to talk to them with cum on you went to the next level. But you wouldn't try to stop him- didn’t want to. It sent a nasty pulse of perverse heat through you, “If you keep it like a good girl, I’ll fuck you in front of them before the trials up.” You were begging before you even realized.

He chuckled while brushing some of your hair back from your face, “Well, let's get you up there on the hook then.” He lifted you with ease and surprisingly gently compared to his treatment just a second ago. You felt the familiar feel of the hook entering you, heard yourself scream, and then you were hanging there and he was patting a cheek of your ass, “Remember, no wiping it off until I say.” and then he was walking off.

You hung there for a few minutes before you saw Jane silently walking towards you. You tried to look away, but she was already lifting you off of it. Settling on your feet had you unconsciously looking up to her. She was taking you in with a raised brow and a slight smirk, “Ghostface, huh?” Hearing her say it was about enough to kill you from embarrassment.

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